Date: Tue, 16 Apr 2013 14:39:39 -0700 From: B.E. Kelley Subject: The Peace Within Chapter 7 This story is a work of FICTION. The events described are my own invention. Any similarities to actual events or persons are strictly coincidental. The author retains the copyright, and any other rights, to this original story. You may not publish it or any part of it without my explicit authorization. This story contains depictions of consensual sexual acts between teenage males. It is intended for mature audiences only. If you find this type of material offensive or if you are under the legal age to read said material; please proceed no further. Comments are always welcome at: hailcaesar2011@hotmail.com The Peace Within Chapter 7 Dr. Hildebrand is dad's business partner, they share an office and consult on each other's patients, he's been treating me and Patton since we were born. I suppose it's like they say about people who defend themselves in court, they have fools for clients, likewise, the doctor that treats his own kids, is probably asking for trouble. After the incident at the university, dad wanted me to start seeing Dr. Clark but his patient roster was full, he'd only seen me, initially, as a favor to dad. Dr. Hildebrand wanted to see me for himself and then make his recommendation for a regular therapist. My appointment started with a physical, then we sat down in his office. I was sitting between my parents, mom having taken the day off, again. "Well Parker you're in excellent physical health although your weight is down a bit. At your last checkup you were 150 pounds, which is an ideal weight for a boy your size, now you're down to 141," said Dr. Hildebrand "He doesn't eat," said mom. "I eat," I objected. "He doesn't eat much," dad corrected. "Why aren't you eating, Parker?" asked Dr. Hildebrand, "not hungry?" "No, it makes me a little nauseous," I grumbled. "I see," said Dr. Hildebrand, making a note on my chart, "what do you think's making you nauseous?" "I don't know, life?" I asked. "Parker, are you having suicidal thoughts?" Dr. Hildebrand asked, bluntly, "if so, I really need you to tell me right now." I could hear my parents take deep breaths and hold them, waiting for my answer. The truth of the matter was, I hadn't considered killing myself, mom and dad already lost one son, I couldn't do that to them. I felt trapped, I wasn't getting better, the guilt was almost crippling and it was compounded by how I was affecting my parents. I shook my head, no. "You know it's natural to feel depressed, after a tragedy like this, right?" asked the doctor. I nodded, yes. "He had a panic attack the other day," said mom, "I took him to the memorial service at the university, I left him for just a minute and found him hiding under a piano in a restaurant on State Street." "What brought that about?" asked Dr. Hildebrand. "He didn't really say much about it," said mom. The doctor's eyes bore into me. "I was just scared, I guess," I replied. "What are you scared of?" "What do you think?" I asked. "I wouldn't ask if I knew," Dr. Hildebrand smiled. I just looked away, if he couldn't figure it out on his own, well, I wasn't in the mood to talk about it. "How about school, you start back in a few days, how do you feel about that?" asked Dr. Hildebrand, changing gears. "I don't know," I replied. "Do you think you're up for it?" "I'm worried about that," said mom, "his friends come over to see how he's doing but he won't talk to any of them, I don't know what's going to happen when he goes back to school." "I just don't want everyone hovering over me," I replied. "People just want to help," said dad. "And that's just it, I don't want help, I want to be left alone. Patton was my brother, not anyone else's, let me grieve my way," I huffed. "That's the point honey, I don't think you are dealing with it," said mom. "Son, we can't even begin to imagine what this is like for you, but you can't keep pushing us away, we love you and we want to be part of the solution," said dad. "Erik, Andrea, you're Parker's support network, he's going to need your help to get through this," said Dr. Hildebrand, "but there's no harm in taking a step back and giving him a little breathing room, he just needs some time to come to grips with things." I was grateful to him for that, at least he seemed to understand how I felt. "I'm going to write you a refill for the prescription Dr. Clark gave you for Xanax and I'm going to recommend Dr. Ryan Kitridge, he's an excellent psychiatrist. I think we're looking at a classic case of post-traumatic stress disorder, but that's good, we know what caused it, obviously, and Dr. Kitridge will help you work through it," said Dr. Hildebrand. Pssh, you think you know what's causing it. Yes, it was the result of Patton's murder but it went much deeper than that. I was sure that no one had any clue what I was feeling. Dr. Hildebrand gave dad my prescription, he said he'd pick it up after work. Mom took the information for Dr. Kitridge, she drove me home and I went up to my room, while she made my appointment. I lie on my bed and stared at the celling. I was tired of feeling like this but there wasn't much I could do about it. The Xanax helped but I was a little worried about how many of them I was taking, Dr. Clark had written me a prescription for 10 days worth, they were gone in 5. One thing that stood out was the fact that no one could read my mind, no one knew what I was thinking and maybe I could use that to my advantage. The writer Aaron Sorkin once wrote, "Act as if you have faith and faith will be given to you. In other words, fake it till you make it." Maybe that could work for me, if I acted like I wasn't on the verge of a total meltdown, maybe my emotions would even out? With that in mind, I set out on a plan to fake it till I made it. That's not to say that I turned into Mary Sunshine overnight, they wouldn't believe that and it wouldn't be right. My twin brother was dead, I'm entitled to grieve for him, I'm just trying to reengage enough to get my parents to relax and maybe, just maybe, jumpstart my recovery and block out this ever present guilt. It was a good plan and I think it was working. Mom and dad gave me the space I needed and Dr. Hildebrand recommended. I was doing my best not to be so grouchy and forcing myself to get back into the swing of things, like reading and, I even had my friend Danny come over and kick the soccer ball around. I picked Danny because he's the quiet type, like me, and I knew he'd be fine, just hanging out in the back yard, kicking the ball. He wouldn't feel the need to ask how I was feeling or pester me about my emotions. On the Sunday before I was scheduled to return to school, I worked up the courage to go for a run. At first, the fresh air felt good, I'd been cooped up for a couple of weeks and when you're used to being out in the fresh air, you start to miss it when you can't have it. I was doing fine, until I ran by someone's house and their cat jumped up on the hood of their car. Normally this wouldn't be a problem but the cat set off the car alarm and it sounded just like the fire alarm that had been blaring during my last call from Patton. At first, the noise startled me and I dove into a bush for cover. It rained that morning and I quickly found myself covered in mud. The problem got worse when the alarm kept going, evidently the owner of the car wasn't home to turn it off and that ear splitting wail wouldn't stop. I sat in that bush and rocked myself for almost 15 minutes. All I could think about was Patton's dead body and all those poor students and teachers who lost their lives. I wasn't friends with any of the other kids but I knew who some of them were, they'd been in my classes, I'd seen them in the halls and now they were gone. When my latest panic attack finally stopped, I picked myself up and brushed as much of the mud from my clothes as I could. I tried to dry the tears from my cheeks but I only succeeded in turning my face into a muddy mess as well. "Jesus, Parker, what happened to you?" asked mom, when I entered the mud room. "I-I tripped over a break in the sidewalk, landed right in a mud puddle," I lied. I didn't like lying to mom but at this point, I was hiding so much, I didn't think one more lie would matter. I wanted to go to school tomorrow, I thought if I just kept up with the fake it till you make it strategy, I'd be ok. Going to school was a big part of that, I was scared to death to be there but if I could overcome that, it would be a good step in the right direction. "You're absolutely covered in muck, stay there and take your clothes off, I'll go get your bathrobe and then you can jump in the shower," said mom. "But mom..." I objected. "No but's honey, I can't have you tracking that mud all through the house, I'll be right back," said mom, she was gone before I could raise more objections. I resigned myself to my fate, then kicked off my muddy Asics, pulled off my socks and took off my track pants. My sweatshirt and boxer-briefs were wet too, but I didn't want to wait there, naked. I stood there, shivering in my soiled underwear, when mom came back with my robe. "Ok, sweatshirt and undies too," said mom, after she picked up my muddy pants and socks. "I was waiting for my robe, I'll give you my underwear after I put it on," I said. "What about your sweatshirt," asked mom. "It's not that wet," I stated. "Parker, it's soaked," mom objected. "Fine," I sighed, then took off my sweatshirt. "Parker," mom gasped, "what happened?" On my left side, just above my hip, there was a series of small, angry looking bruises. "It's nothing," I replied, without meeting her gaze, "it must have happened when I fell." "If it's nothing, why didn't you want me to see it?" said mom. "I don't know, I didn't want you to freak out like this," I retorted. "Put your robe on, give me your underwear, then up to the shower ok?" mom instructed. "Ok," I sighed, then tied my robe around my waist and shimmied out of my Calvin Klein's. Alright, so the bruises weren't from the fall, yes I lied to my mom but it was only to spare her feelings. You see, sometimes I'll be sitting there, staring off into space and I'll start to have a flashback, they're just like my dreams only I'm wide awake when they happen. I can't do anything to stop them, the only thing that's managed to snap me out of it, is to pinch myself as hard as I can. The area above my hip is soft and sensitive, a good hard twist there and the pain draws my attention away from the images in my head. You can see why I haven't mentioned it to anyone, I don't want them to lock me up and throw away the key. I guess mom believed my story about the bruises, or she was ignoring it, either way, she didn't say anything when I came downstairs for dinner and my dad never brought it up either. I tried to be upbeat and enthusiastic about going to school the next day, I guess I was kind of curious to see what Bartlett Academy would be like, Patton and I almost went there. I'd never thought of that before, we'd been given the option of attending the prestigious private school or going to Shelton. We'd both picked Shelton, Patton because he didn't want to leave his friends, I said the same thing, but in reality, he was the dominate twin and I wanted to make him happy. At the time, I really wanted to go to Bartlett, they had some amazing programs and my inner nerd was drooling over the options I'd have open to me after graduating from such a well-regarded school. Patton used to tease me and say that I always got my way because I was mom's favorite, he was only joking but boy was that ironic, if I'd gotten my way, he'd be here right now, instead I let him have what he wanted. Mom and dad tried to make Monday as normal for me as possible. Normally we'd all scramble around the breakfast table before going our separate ways, then Patton and I would drop Patrick off at school before heading over to Shelton. My parents were both running late that day, they'd asked if I wanted them to drive us, but I told them I was ok and they didn't press the issue. After we finished our cereal, Patrick and I walked out to the Volvo. I sat there for a few minutes, my hands on the wheel, remembering the last time I'd been in this car. Patton had driven us home from school, we stopped so I could buy cough drops and orange juice, Derek Carter waited on me, he smiled and tried to talk to me about piano lessons and then, and then... "Parker?" said Patrick. "Huh, what?" I replied, he'd snapped me out of what was sure to be another panic attack. "It's almost 7:45, we're going to be late," Patrick reminded me. "Sorry buddy," I replied, then started the car. "Are you ok?" asked Patrick, "I can call mom on her cell, she's probably not too far." "No, I'm ok, I was just thinking about something," I explained. "About Patton?" "Yeah," I sighed. "I think about him too," said Peter. "Yeah, I'm sure you do, you know he loved you a lot, right?" I asked. "Yeah, I know," said Patrick. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry I haven't been..." I started. "It's ok, you're sad, I understand," said Patrick. "Thanks," I almost whispered, then changed my tone, "right then, let's get going." I dropped Patrick off at school and he reminded me that mom would be picking him up, I was supposed to see my psychiatrist that afternoon, he'd put the address in my phone for me the night before. I thanked him and then let out a little sigh when he closed the door. Just a couple of short weeks ago, I would have been the one reminding Patrick and Patton of their appointments and putting addresses in their phones. I couldn't help but think how low I'd sunk that my baby brother had to help hold me together. The drive to Bartlett was uneventful, I quickly found a parking place and planned to slip anonymously into first period, but that was not to be. Lee and Henry were waiting for me when I walked up to the main entrance, I'd ignored repeated attempts for them to visit me after the funeral, but I couldn't avoid them now. "Hey man," said Henry, he hugged me and so did his brother. Lee hasn't been the same since the shooting, he used to be loud and kind of obnoxious, now, I don't think I've heard him saw more than three words at a time. The more time I spend around him, the more I see the symptoms, he's suffering too. "Hey," I replied, "what's going on?" There was a large crowd outside the entrance, they were forming a line and I couldn't see what for. "Metal detectors, school board's idea to keep us all safe," Henry said, sarcastically. "Yeah, what's that they say about locking the chicken coop after the wolf's inside?" I asked. "Uh, I don't know, what do they say?" asked Henry, he was Patton's buddy and he was trying very hard to be nice to me, so I resisted the urge to be "the Professor." "Nothing, just something I heard somewhere," I replied. I followed Lee and Henry through the security checkpoint with my head down, I was conscious of people staring at me and it made me nervous. It was to be expected, my identical twin was dead and they were all used to seeing him roam the halls. I've always been the shy one, the uptight, quiet one. I forgot how much I lived in Patton's shadow, he was popular, everyone's friend, some of the looks I was getting said what I was thinking, "why did it have to be him, why couldn't it have been you?" I shook it off, let a security officer search my backpack, then headed off to class. Lee and Henry stayed with me, I assumed their class must be near mine, but I figured out what was really going on, when Marshall Davis walked up to me. Marshall is on my soccer team, he's a friendly sort, but he's got something of a big mouth. "Hey Westergaard, how's it going," Marshall smiled. "Ok Marshall, you?" I replied. "I'm good, grateful for the 2 week vacation, ya know?" said Marshall. "No, I'm sure I don't," I replied, was he stupid, didn't he know? "Oh, right, your brother, man that sucks," said Marshall. "Yeah," I agreed. "You holding up ok?" asked Marshall. "Yeah, I'm ok," I replied. "Are you sure, I mean if some guys blew..." Marshall started. "He said he's ok, why don't you mind your business and go to class?" said Henry. He'd been so quiet, I'd almost forgotten that he was there but after Marshall's comment, he'd put his shoulders back, puffed out his chest and I was pretty sure he was ready to kick Marshall's teeth down his throat. "Yeah, I better go," Marshall cowered, "I'm sorry Parker, really, I didn't mean to be such an asshole." He was gone before I could reply, instead, I directed my attention to Henry. "You didn't have to do that..." I started. "He was being an..." Henry began. "You didn't have to do that," I spoke over him, "but thanks." "No problem," said Henry, the slightest smile spreading across his face. "Anyway, this is my class, see you later?" I asked. "Sure, you wanna have lunch with us?" asked Lee. "Um, you know what, that would be nice," I replied. "Alright, we'll see you then," said Henry. I walked into class and took my seat, a few people stared at me but most of them seemed a little shell shocked themselves. When Mr. Preston, our history teacher, came into the room, it was enough of a distraction to draw their attention away from me. "Good morning geniuses," smiled Mr. Preston, he says it to all his students, not just the honor's kids. "So let's address the elephant in the room," said Mr. Preston, "do we want to talk about it or get back to the French Revolution?" No one said anything, some people sat quietly, others looked around the room and still others looked at the board. Mr. Preston waited a few minutes but when no one spoke, he took out a marker and started to write on the dry erase board. "Alright then, we were talking about Napoleon and the..." he started. "Charlie Baxter lived on my block, I didn't really know him well but he was nice to me when I did talk to him, his parents put their house up for sale," said Tyler Whitlock. "Marion liked to sow, she used to do alterations and she helped me with my prom dress, she was sweet," said Lisa Meeks. "My little brother was in the library, he made it out ok but he saw everything," said Jenifer Sylvester, "it was weird, when he was finally evacuated and my mom and dad were able to take him home, he didn't act like anything happened at all, all he wanted to do was watch TV." "I don't understand why this had to happen, the news keeps saying that Carter and Warner got pushed around a little, but so what, that happens to all of us, high school sucks but you don't see the rest of us going out on a rampage," said Mike Sanchez. "It's the guns, anyone can get them, if we had better gun laws..." Shannon Levy began. "Don't be stupid, they got guns illegally, they trespassed, committed arson and oh yeah, let's not forget MURDER, you think they would have just changed their minds if we had one more law for them to break?" said Aaron Geringer. "Maybe they were..." Shannon began to defend herself. "We don't need any more gun laws," I practically whispered it but everyone heard it and everyone looked at me. "Did you want to say something, Mr. Westergaard?" asked Mr. Preston. "We don't need any more gun laws, there aren't any laws we can pass to protect ourselves from this, this...evil," I muttered, "if you took away the guns, they still had bombs, if you took away the bombs, they'd just find something else, you can't legislate against evil, evil finds a way." I put my head down after that. My class kept talking about everything that happened since the shooting but I'd said my peace and I didn't want to listen anymore. None of them knew what this was like, sure, some of them knew people who died, some of them had friends or family who had come under fire, but none of them had lost a brother. I was surrounded by people, but I was all alone. I didn't fall asleep but I never heard the bell ring, Mr. Preston had to tap me on the shoulder so that I could go to my next class. There were more stares and more awkward glances throughout the day, but I guess I was getting used to it, it wasn't bothering me as much. I ate lunch with Lee and Henry but I just listened to them talk to their friends. Kelsey came into the lunch room just as I stood up to leave, she looked right at me, then turned and went the other direction. When classes ended for the day, I found the address Patrick had put in my phone, then drove across town to Dr. Kitridge's office. My first appointment didn't inspire much confidence, it was so, clinical. I sat there and went over the symptoms I'd manifested, talked about how the Xanax was affecting me and that I was having trouble sleeping. Dr. Kitridge was nice enough, he was kind of young, he was pleasant but he wasn't telling me what I wanted to hear. I wanted to hear that everything was going to be ok, that in a few weeks I'd be back to normal and my heart wouldn't feel like it was torn in half and running on life support. Of course, I wasn't telling him everything he wanted to hear either. I wasn't telling him about the guilt I was feeling, I didn't tell him about my encounter with Derek Carter the night before the shooting and you can bet I didn't tell him about Parker's phone call. At the end of our session, if you can call it that, Dr. Kitridge gave me a prescription for sleeping pills and a refill on my Xanax. He said that therapy is a process and that we'd start getting into the meat of my problem, when we met next week. Mom and dad were full of questions that night. How was your first day? How are the other kids holding up? What did you think of Bartlett? Would you like to transfer there next year? What was Dr. Kitridge like? Did he say anything about the bruises on your tummy? Yeah, I guess mom hadn't forgotten that after all, and judging from the look on dad's face, he already knew, he didn't skip a beat. I don't know what Dr. Kitridge would have said about the bruising, I didn't tell him. I answered the questions as best I could, fake it till you make it, but as soon as dinner was over, I headed to my room. I didn't have any homework, none of the teachers wanted to be the one to do that on the first day back. With nothing better to do, I pulled Patton's jacket from under my pillow and fell asleep cradling it in my arms. For the rest of the week, school was pretty much the same, awkward stares, random crying, discussion after discussion of the shooting, lunch with Lee and Henry, and then there was Kelsey. I ran into her every day, she came into the cafeteria just as I was finishing lunch, she looked at me, then turned and walked out. You can imagine my surprise when I came home Friday, and found her waiting at my front door. Mom and dad were both still at work and Patrick had baseball practice, he was getting a ride from Simon and his parents and wouldn't be home until dinner time. I parked the Volvo then sat there for a second, I was afraid of Kelsey, the last time I'd seen her, she'd latched on to me and practically clawed my face while calling me Patton, over and over again. I didn't know what I would do, if she wigged out on me again, but I couldn't just sit there. "Hi Kelsey," I stated, when I walked up to the door. "Don't worry, I'm not going to freak out on you," she smiled. "Oh, I wasn't worried about that," I blushed, like hell I wasn't. "Sure," she smiled, "can we talk?" "Yeah I guess so," I replied, then stood there like an idiot. "So can I come in?" she asked. "Right, sorry, come on in," I blushed. She followed me inside and stood there while I turned off the alarm system. "So uh, I'll be right back, I just have to throw my bag in my room," I stated, then ran off. I ran up to my room and tossed my bag over by my desk, when I turned around, she was standing in the doorway. I was pretty jumpy, I hadn't heard her follow me and I almost leapt out of my skin. "Relax," said Kelsey, she put her hand on my chest and gently walked me back until my knees hit the bed and I fell into a seated position, "I just came to talk to you, that's all." "Ok," I nodded, as she sat next to me, close, very close. She didn't say anything for a minute, she just reached over and stroked my hair, just above my ear. "You guys look so much alike," said Kelsey. "I'm not him, Kelsey." "I know Parker, I really do, I just thought, Patton was special to both of us and we should be friends, is that ok?" said Kelsey, she was massaging the back of my neck now. "Yeah, I guess that would be ok," I replied, shyly. "Parker?" "Yeah?" I replied, turning to face her. She kissed me right on the lips and I was too stunned to do anything about it. I felt her tongue pressing against me and on instinct alone, I parted my lips and let it slip inside. She kissed me for a long time and then she pushed me back so that I was lying on my bed. She straddled my body and started to nibble on my ear, I didn't know what to say or do, then she unhooked her bra. "Uh, uh, Patrick's going to be home any time now..." I muttered. "Kip's on his baseball team," that's her little brother, "they won't be finished with practice for another hour." She started kissing me again and I wished I had the courage to stop her. I was afraid of what would happen if I said no and afraid of what would happen if she kept going. I am so damn tired of being afraid. Kelsey rubbed my chest and then moved her hands lower, massaging each of my abs before her nimble fingers found my belt buckle. She had my belt open so fast, then she made short work of my button and zipper. I felt her fingers pull at the waistband of my underwear and then I snapped. "No!" I exclaimed. "No?" said Kelsey. "I-I can't do this, you don't want this, I'm not Patton," I spluttered. "I thought you wanted to be friends," said Kelsey. "Friends don't make out, friends don't pull each other's pants down," I retorted. "Sure they do," she smiled and then kissed my neck. I felt like I was about to cry. "Kelsey, please don't, I can't do this," I whined. "Don't be silly, of course you can," said Kelsey, then she grabbed my dick and groped me, "oh, maybe you can't." I was soft, not even semi hard and I pulled away from her. I backed up against the headboard and found myself in a now familiar position, my knees up to my chest, while I rocked back and forth. "I-I'm sorry Parker, I don't know what came over me," Kelsey blushed. "Can you leave me alone, please?" I whispered. "Sure, are you ok?" she asked. "I'm ok, I just want to be alone," I replied. "Ok, Parker, I really am sorry," said Kelsey, then she was gone. When she left, I jumped out of bed, pulled up my zipper and ran downstairs. I locked the door so that Kelsey couldn't change her mind and come back, then I went back upstairs and paced in front of the window. I was really upset by the encounter, it was wrong, she was Patton's girlfriend, I'd never even thought of her sexually before, she was off limits. But, a nagging voice in the back of my head kept saying, she's a pretty girl, why didn't you get an erection? Even if she is Patton's girlfriend, she kissed you, she was touching you, didn't that do anything for you at all? What's wrong with you, Parker? I couldn't talk to mom and dad about this, they'd freak out, they'd call the Millers. I couldn't tell Dr. Kitridge, I didn't trust him. The solution presented itself when I opened my desk drawer, Peter's email address was lying there on top of a stack of DVD blanks. I turned on my laptop and fired off a quick email. "Something's wrong with me. I'm scared all the time, I've had panic attacks, my brother's girlfriend practically raped me and I couldn't even... You said I could talk to you, that you knew what this was like, were you serious? Parker." It was a rambling note, I probably sounded like a psycho and I'd be lucky if the Secret Service didn't kick down my door and bust me for harassing this guy. I was kicking myself for sending the email, when I looked up and saw a reply in my inbox. "CALL ME! 555-3125, Peter."