Life after hospitalized is better. Things are getting better. I mean, I'm not gonna tell you I love the whole god damn world and everyone in it, but I don't hate everyone. They tried to explain what was wrong with me, to tell you the truth I didn't understand all of it. Most of it even. They said I had depression and anxiety issues and that's part of the reason I'm nervous all the time. They also said I might have posttraumatic stress syndrome due to Allie's death. I didn't like that, them blaming Allie for anything. I had to go to therapy every single day I was there. To talk about my problem, my ambitions. Sometimes I would make stuff up, like real depressing stuff. I would go on for an entire session about something really depressing and dramatic. But, I would usually tell them it wasn't true at the end. That got me into some trouble and they told me I was a compulsive liar. I thought that was really something. I laughed about it all the time.
Right now, I am sitting on a train writing in this journal, on my way to my newest school; Georgetown Prep. They started making me write in this thing at the hospital, said it was a healthier way to unload. I hated it at first, but now I'm used to it. I took a long time off of school to stay at home. My therapist said I needed my family because I was more messed up then I knew, just like said. My mom always looked at me weird while I was home, like she never knew what went wrong. She was the only one who refused to come see Allie with me. I feel bad for her.
Phoebe and I hung out this "vacation". After my mother and father went to bed we danced, and we stayed up talking. That's when she told me about her new "boyfriend". I kept on about how she was too young to date but she just rolled her eyes at me. She was beginning the whole teenager phase and I could only sit there and watch it happen, I felt helpless. All I could picture was Stradlater and his girls, what if one of his girls was my innocent baby sister?
I made another date with Sally Hayes over my break because I started to feel a little lonely. She may not be the best company, but she is some company. I apologized and all for calling her a pain and she forgave me when I offered to take her to the new show coming in town. I don't like her, not in a passionate kind of way anyways but I have this ache that I need to fill and sometimes a substitute for a companion gives my ache a rest. Sometimes she gets into talking about the future, and how I'm going to have a great job and we're going to live in a big house get married and have kids. I get nervous when she talks like this. I want kids, I think. But, getting a job and settling down just seems impossible for me. I refuse to be like my parents. I wonder if Allie would have turned out like my parents, or been just like me, doomed to rebel conformity.
Finally, I hear them announce my stop. I can not decide if I should get off or just stay on and see where it takes me. I decide that my parents can not take any more disappointments and I promised myself I would at least fake my way through the rest of high school. I step off the bus and take everything in. It's no New York I can tell you that much. I take out my wallet and check how much cash I have on me. I 'm pleasantly surprised to see my parents have me fully taken care of. I hail a taxi over and step inside. I take deep one breathe and realize my cab driver made the personal decision to never step inside a shower. Good for him. "Georgetown Prep." I said in a rude tone.
"Ah. Nice school I hear preppy." The cab driver said sarcastically. I can barely stand the horrid stench coming off his body.
"Maybe you could roll down a window?" I said curtly, hoping the ride to this stupid school would be a quick one.
"Sure thing preppy." He rolled down my window with a cheesy grin plastered on his face. I sure am glad he was enjoying the slightly nauseating smell. I begin tapping on my knee to a tune me and Phoebe had danced to last night. God I need a cigarette. My therapist told me about the dangers of cigarettes, and how my addictive personality would one day get me into trouble. So I quit for the time being. I stick my hand in my pocket and rub my fingers on the cardboard container the need growing. I start to sweat and try to distract myself.
Finally, I'm wrenched out of my thoughts and distractions when the taxi driver calls out "Here we are good luck preppy." He turns around and smiles at me revealing heaps of stained teeth.
"Thanks and here you go," I hand him a wad of cash "have a nice day". I take in a wave of fresh air and cherish it. I look at the school in front of me, it was massive. There are heaps of phonies walking around like they own the place, I wouldn't be surprised if half their daddy's did. I go up to a half decent looking girl and ask for directions to the main office.
"Third building over there, first floor." She gave me a small smile.
"Thanks very much." I said. I stuck my hand back in my pocket again feeling the cardboard touch my fingers. The temptation was returning and again I start to sweat. God damn I was an idiot for even bringing them. I briskly walk behind the first building I see and am relieved to find I was quite alone. I pull out the container and reach inside grabbing a cigarette from the middle. I twist it in my hand for a second, and inside my head is screaming to just put it back, but I find it impossible. I put it in my mouth and scramble in my bag to find my trusty lighter. I reach the flame to my mouth and lit the cigarette. I take a long drag as my body instantly relaxes. I was a hopeless bastard, I really was. But hey, some things are impossible to change.