Saved In Continuance

by Madison Graves1

This is "Saved" in continuance (all 7 chapters)... please tell me what you think. For those not familiar with story: it's Jamie at a drug-rehabilitating youth place called 'Hope' - but a lot more than group therapy happens....

Chapter 1: Group Isolation

Jaime clamped the cold leather seat with his sweaty fingers, slumping down and outstretching his legs into the center of the body-hugging, rigid circle. He could feel the eyes of the fellow teenagers piercing into him. He felt exposed, no partition or table in front of him, only air separating him from the pool of strangers. "Ok," a female counselor sitting across from him initiated. "As you may have noticed. we have a new group member today. Jaime." She nodded in his direction. ." Jaime rose from his brooding slump and gazed up at the strangers, all about sixteen to eighteen. Jaime was seventeen. He sarcastically waved at the ring of faces, hinting at a smile.

"Hello," he said, overly annunciating in a jocular manner, yet somehow managing to contain himself from laughing.

"Hi," the group replied, some smiling and others indifferently observing. He apprehensively folded his arms across his chest and pulled his legs inward, trying not to reveal his discomfort and anxiety.

"To open up this group session, why don't you all introduce yourselves and share one good thing and one bad thing that is on your mind," the counselor suggested, her hands calmly clasped together in her lap. The group did not respond with much enthusiasm, but the counselor didn't appear surprised or disappointed.

"My name is June." a girl to the left of the counselor started, hiding behind dangling strands of auburn hair and baggy clothes. "I guess a bad thing is - that it's still hard to get from day to day without what I'm used to making me feel normal, but a good thing is - I feel like things are, nonetheless, getting better for me." she quietly rambled, but didn't sound nervous, only contemplative. Jaime studied her pink lips and deep brown eyes, and she gazed up toward him as the next person began to speak - he quickly turned away. But he could see her in the corner of his eyes, stealing glances at him occasionally. The flow of discussion continued - and everyone shared profound things and trivial things - but all things that were good or bad. Jaime, for the most part, couldn't remember the details - but he could remember June's sensitive reactions to them. As the voices became louder, gradually climbing towards him, he felt intense heat embrace his body and his hands began to tremble. He grasped onto the arms of his chair for a sense of stability and control. What would he say? Would he make fun, or simply "pass"? Would he just ask natural, what was natural? How could he be natural in such an unnatural setting? Such uncertainty. he didn't like it.

Finally, it was his turn. "I'm Jaime." he mumbled, and then hesitated before continuing. He began to tap his foot against the dull carpet and rub his hands together, "The bad thing is - it seems that drugs aren't allowed, and that was the only good thing about my life. and the good thing is - well, I guess there isn't much of a good thing right now, is there?" His words were wobbly and tired, but undoubtedly bitter. The counselor's eyes looked concerned, yet not surprised - she never acted surprised. She didn't encourage more from him. The rest of the session dragged on, and emotions were poured out - some people cried and others just listened tentatively. And at the end, they held hands as the counselor raddled off a prayer. Everybody bowed his or her head except him and June. She raised her eyebrow and gave him an apologetic look.

After they broke, Jaime rushed toward her as she started to leave.

"June?" he sighed, "That's a pretty name."

"That's what everybody seems to think," she answered, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"You know," he began, "I was lying when I said there wasn't anything good about being here."

"I'll see you next time," she replied, a playful smile sliding across her face. Her voice drifted off as she walked with the other girls to their separate building.

"Yeah, I'll see you!" He yelled back, and although she didn't slow down or look back at him, he knew that she had heard.

He had survived three days of detox, a session of group therapy, and three somber meals in a dismal cafeteria where nobody talked very much - he didn't mind that. The evening neared and all he wanted to do was sleep - forget about his cravings and troublesome memories of the outside world, and wake up to a new group session to see June's soft face. It became routine to grab a seat next to her, and she would always speak first - Jaime, second. The few words they exchanged before and after were all - but he looked forward to them with great anticipation, for it was the only thing to look forward to. He kept his words during the group sessions at a minimal, saying just enough to get by. The meals times, the bed times, the wake up times, the free time. became the usual. He started to listen during group and found it comforting to hear about others' stories, because he could relate to them - however, he still stayed quiet. From the beginning, he had made a pact with himself not to break down or become weak - but to tough it out - he had done it all his life, and it would be a shame to fail now.

One session, the same female counselor opened with a different topic.

"Today, I would like each of you to share with us a relationship that you wish were different." As usual, June started.

"I guess I would like to change the relationship with my mom. I mean, we never get along - it's like we're always on different pages," she hesitated, tears emerging on the rims of her eyes, "It's almost like. she wants me to hate my dad, because she hates him - but I don't, and so that drives a huge wedge between us."

"Have you told your mom that you wish things were different?" The counselor questioned.

"Kind of - but she never listens to me. but I guess I never listen to her either."

"Well, it's very good to look at our own part because then we can approach situations differently and fairly. June, I do believe that you have the power to change that relationship." June was very broken and suddenly a crystal clear teardrop slid down her cheek and Jaime cupped his hand over her hand. A few seconds passed.

"Jaime, how about you?" The counselor continued. Jaime seemed surprised; he had been wrapped up in June. He pulled his hand away and glared down at the carpet.

"I don't know." he muttered, "Can you skip me?"

"Jaime." the counselor's tone suddenly took a serious shift. "You've been avoiding talking for a while now, and you can't get off that easily. Can you think real deep for me? I'm sure there's a relationship you'd like to change."

"Yes, with Britney Spears." he nervously laughed. A few giggles across the circle followed, and the counselor gave him a hard stare.

"What relationship do you have with Britney Spears?" Someone mumbled.

"No relationship, we're perfect strangers. But I sincerely would like to change that!" He thought for a few minutes and then decided to give in, because she wasn't moving on to the next person. "I guess - I'd like to change the relationship with my mom." his words were unsure and melancholy. He didn't elaborate. June gave him an understanding look and he acknowledged it.

"And why is that?" The counselor asked kindly.

"Uh." his breathing started to grow louder and he could feel his heart fiercely pounding his aching chest. He gripped the arms of the chair and attempted to maintain control and keep from visibly shaking. "I don't think I ever really knew her." he started, speaking as though he was asking a question. "I think." he began again, "I think that she kind of departed. when I was little. mentally at least."

"People can change, Jaime." the counselor reassured, "I see it happen each day."

"Maybe in hell. she died," Jaime replied abruptly, but as though he was in full acceptance of the fact and had been for years.

"I'm sorry," she quickly replied, "would you like to talk about it?"

"You know?" Jaime shouted bitterly, "I'm really tired of talking." He bit his lip and gripped the chair arms even tighter, trying to resist showing the frustration that was churning within. June observed in curiosity and wonder. She was captivated by him, and wasn't trying to hide it.

"Okay," the counselor surrendered, and like always - the flow of discussion continued. Like always. He almost felt abandoned each time the counselor gave up on him. Inside, though, he tried to deny that he yearned for her attention - but down deep, he knew he did.

That night, his roommate, David Walker, a blond haired boy of about Jaime's stature, tried to start a conversation - for they usually were always silent in the room.

"You know." he said, "It really does help to talk about stuff in group."

"I figured you'd feel that way. you seem to always find something to share," Jaime was trying to turn the subject around to David, but was unsuccessful.

"I know it doesn't make sense to you right now. but you know, maybe you should try it sometime."

"Thanks," Jaime retorted sarcastically, "but I can handle myself. I have no desire to become a self-help freak like you all; no offense." David then solemnly reverted to the magazine he had been reading and Jaime let out a disappointed breath as though David, too, had let him down - just like the counselor - or had he let his own self down?

That night, Jaime twisted and turned in his sleep, until he finally jolted upward, drenched in sweat and confused to his surroundings. He panted and ran his fingers through his dark, spiked hair. He remembered where he was and desperately threw the blanket off of his body and rubbed his eyes. He felt as though he was suffocating - no drugs or alcohol to turn to, no June to turn to, no friends. alone. he felt like he was reaching and reaching for something: but what, exactly? How did the others survive here? He resisted from answering and tried to go back to sleep.













Chapter 2: Days of June

The next day Jaime rushed to group and met up with June a few minutes before the session started.

"You don't think there's a way to meet in another way, do you?" He whispered to her. A chill raced up her spine as she felt his breath caress and tickle her ear.

"We can't." she whispered back, "I'm surprised the counselors even let us have group together. They're very strict about avoiding boy girl relationships - I guess they want to create a laid back kind of environment."

"You see," Jaime retorted, "I'm not sure that I quite understand the logic in that - you're already dealing with people on the verge of suicide. and I'm not sure how anybody could live without you." She blushed and then laughed at him.

"You really are something!" June sighed, turning around as the session began. "I just wish the rest of the world felt the same way." She seemed as if she wasn't even talking to him anymore - Jaime didn't respond but nudged up closer to her. They will someday, he thought to himself. After the meeting, the two were greeted by the female counselor, who hastily pulled them aside. They both stood close to each other, nervous.

"Now," the counselor started, "the reason why we allow boys and girls to share these particular group sessions - is because it is the only truly supervised time - and we feel that it lightens frustrations when opposite sexes interact - or at least brings people, who would other wise ditch, to the group - but we don't intend for it to be a meeting place to develop romantic relationships. now, if you in fact have - I suggest you keep it at a limited view to others. or else you won't have a relationship at all." She raised her eyebrows seriously and then left the two standing side by side. When she left, the two rolled their eyes at each other, giggled, conversed on whether or not they had romance, and then dispersed.

It was a Saturday afternoon, Jaime knew because he had been keeping his own calendar - it frightened him to think that he could forget the days - he didn't pay attention to the adults that just never seemed to stop talking - he had to rely on himself. And on that day, for the first time, him and his fellow teens, at least the ones in his group session, would go out into the world - to the local swimming pool. All the counselors said how it was vital to let them "go outside and release some energy, as long as it was under proper supervision." Jaime had been dreading this day ever sense the trip was mentioned.

At nine in the morning, the teens gathered their things and piled onto a bus, excited to breathe fresh air that was far away from their prison-like sanctuary. Jaime didn't bother to borrow a suit, due to the fact that he didn't have one, because he didn't swim. However, a counselor practically forced him to. Swimming was one thing he did not do - and he wasn't planning on doing it in the near future. Finally, the bus made a jerky stop after fifteen minutes of jerky ride, and a gleam of hope sprinkled over him as he remember that he could see June's face - she was on the girl's bus. They lined up in the isles and hopped out of the bus, one by one, their eyes adjusting to the bright sun, which spilt off the pool house's roof and poured onto the tops of their heads. Jaime studied the crowd of faces for June - only to observe a circus of diverse personalities, some loudly talking, some very comfortable and anxious, and others solemn and almost scared - like him. But where was June?

Then he saw her. her dark hair contrasting with her somewhat pail, yet angelic, skin. She wore a short flowery top with frayed blue jeans complimenting her thin, light-skinned, bare stomach. "Jaime!" She squealed, racing over to him.

"June." he said. The two were inseparable - although her girlfriend's tried to pull her away. But he began to tense up as they neared the pool and everybody began undressing and edging towards the shallow, clear blue water. His mind became clouded with confusion - he didn't swim, but what if they made him? What about his scars, would people see? What if he couldn't handle being near the water? What if he freaked out? What would everybody think? He had to leave. so after telling June that he'd see her later he rushed to the nearest bathroom, only to have a counselor follow him.

"Jaime, where are you going?" The tall male counselor asked, grabbing Jaime's shoulder with his strong fingers.

"To the bathroom." he laughed, "what? You don't trust me to go and take a piss?" The counselor nodded his head and waited outside as Jaime entered the bathrooms - which looked as though they were built with millions of brown, black, and white pebbles. He instantly splashed some cold water on his face - sensing the irony of his action - and stared at himself in the mirror - his dark eyes, his soft features, predominant lips, and rugged hair - but pale and quivering - how was he going to handle this? After a few minutes, knowing he was being waited on, he hastily exited and tried to sit as far away from the pool - trying to blend in with the others who were also avoiding swimming. But then June spotted him, and he felt that oh so familiar heat overcome him and he blushed, gently rising from the chair that he was sitting on.

"Come on in, Jaime." she sighed, a huge smile revealing her dimples. She had already jumped in, her long hair even longer and even curlier and droplets of water forming around her bright eyes.

"I sun burn really badly, June." he explained, backing away.

"So don't take your shirt off," June sensed his insecurity.

"Besides I don't like to swim." He added, sitting back down. But she grabbed his arm tightly and urged him to jump in with her.

"Do you know how?" She asked. "Because I can teach you - we have a lake house. oh, I love to swim!"

"Yes, I've swam before - but I don't anymore." He suddenly became louder and more defiant - almost angry.

"Why not?" She giggled, pulling him closer to the water. She then jumped in, splashing him. "Please come in." she pouted her lips and then smiled, ducking underneath. He watched her blurred figure dive around underneath the surface, like a mermaid. And then as he glared deeper into the waves. his eyes became more distant and June noticed, climbing out of the waves that she had created. "Jaime?" she sighed, snapping in front of his eyes. He suddenly glanced up at her.

"I have to get out of here." he said, "It's not you." he stormed off and hid out until the trip ended, solemnly returning to the bus, without June - although she watched him the whole time, sympathetically.



During lunch the next day, Jaime made his way to a tough looking group at the center of the cafeteria. The three strangers glared over at him, implying that he wasn't welcome.

"Guys." he stated daringly, "I'm in need of something and I was wondering if you knew how to get it."

"No way," the leader chuckled, as though he had entertained this request quite a bit. He was a big guy with soft blue eyes and bold lips and he rested his elbows across the cold table. "There's no way to smuggle stuff in or get around the security to get out of here - people have tried it, only to get caught and sent to juvie. and if you think this place is bad, you just go to juvie and this place will be heaven."

"Just give in dude." another added, "the food really isn't that bad, and you'll be out of here soon enough." Jaime clenched his teeth together in frustration.

"You mean to tell me there aren't any connections inside?" He interrogated skeptically, his anger rising.

"Not that I know of." the leader replied, "and believe me if anybody knew it would be me."

"I don't believe you. What are you afraid of, that I'll nark you?" Jaime spoke confidently, without hesitation, only to be stared at intently by the three, their dangerous eyes stabbing into him threateningly. "But, I'll be out of your way," he said, getting up and walking away to his original, lonely, cafeteria bench.

That night he tossed and turned again, the covers were either too hot or he was too cold without them. And every time he closed his eyes, all he could think of was getting another fix - not sleep. so he kept them open and tried to envision June. Suddenly, she was hovering over him, and as he felt her warmth - he realized that it was not a dream.

"June?" He said, rising upward. She nodded her head and sat down next to him. Their legs dangled over the mattress. "How'd you get here?"

"I have my ways." she answered slyly with a devilish smile, as she batted her long eyelashes. "Did you know I was fifth in my class before I got sent here. fifth in my class!"

"I was just thinking about you." Jaime murmured, losing himself in her eyes, not totally hidden by the darkness.

"I couldn't get you out of my mind, Jaime." her voice was quiet, yet seductive and aggressive and she started to caress his chest and push down on him.

"June." he stuttered, "What are you doing?" His eyes wondered to the roommate that lay across the room from him.

"Oh, he'll enjoy this Jaime!" she giggled, lowering down on him even further, her nails digging into his skin. Then she brought her lips to his and they started to kiss - Jaime almost couldn't stop, but somehow he managed to pull away.

"June, you know we can't do this." his voice became louder and he stared at the ground, trying to avoid her eyes. June folded her arms angrily across her chest and shifted away from him. He looked back at her - she seemed hurt, her lips pouting and her eyes blankly staring ahead.

"I thought we had a connection," she said, almost about to cry.

"We do!" Jaime interjected, "But you know we can't do this here. maybe another time. We do have a connection, that's why I don't wanna do it like this." His voice became softer and he shifted towards her, putting his arm across her shoulder. "This is not like you."

"You don't even know me, Jaime. is this about the pool? I didn't mean to make you angry..." she replied, seemingly frustrated and surprisingly defensive - she didn't seem sympathetic, only regretful.

"Look. I think if we were together like this - that I'd be taking advantage of you. because this is not you, you're someone else right now - and I don't want to be the guy that takes advantage of the girl. I don't want to be that guy, June. okay?" His words were stiff and final. Her expression didn't change. "Look, June." he repeated, "I've known that guy - that guy is the person who stuck twenty dollar bills in my mom's panties when she danced at the bars, that guy was the person who beat her, the person who made her so crazy." he swallowed hard, his words fading as he continued. "you see? Please tell me you see? I don't wanna be that guy." He desperately hoped that unveiling some of his soul would win her over - but then he contemplated whether or not saying what he had said would accomplish the contrary. The two sat in silence and she slowly worked her way over to his side and she put his hand over his, gripping it tightly.

"I understand." she assured, noticing his genuine pain and longing for her. "So your mom." she said, "Do you wanna talk about her?"

"No," he answered quickly, yet calmly. He appeared to have forgotten the topic and he carefully tucked a curl behind her ear and caressed her cheek. "You know. you're beautiful. and today, I really did wanna jump in with you."

"That's the nicest think anybody's ever said to me." she whispered, with a slight laugh. "I've never met anyone like you before, Jaime. you fascinate me."

"Is that all I do?" He whimpered.

























Chapter 3: You Get What You Give

Jaime's roommate stirred as he listened to the two talk until they gradually drifted into a deep sleep, lying next to each other on the stiff bed. For what seemed like only minutes, light jolted across the room, forcing Jaime and June to squint open their eyes and see a towering, shadowy figure glaring down at them. The two became stiff like the bed, yet they managed to sit up to see the figure as the familiar female counselor who had been eyeing them during group.

"Alright you two." she said sternly, "Get up. enjoy this walk, because it will be your last together." Jaime began to ponder the future - would it be a future without June? He grasped her hand and they followed the counselor.



"Jaime Waite." The older man mumbled, glaring at him from behind thin glasses that lined the tip of his pointed nose. He looked back down at a stack of papers and sighed. "Can you tell me what you were doing with June Keller in your room last night?" He interrogated casually, slumping backward in the chair.

"We didn't do anything." he answered in an indignant tone.

"You are aware that the only female/male relations allowed at the establishment are during group and even then, it is group, rather than one on one." the man added.

"Sir," Jaime started.

"Dr. Drake." the man corrected.

"Dr. Drake." Jaime started again, "she needed someone to talk to - what was I supposed to do? My intentions have to count for something."

"You seem like a very articulate boy, Mr. Waite, a very smart boy," Dr. Drake observed, "and it puzzles me that you would risk being sent to Juvenile Hall or worse, over a girl." after a pause and a discouraged look from Jaime he continued, "so I'm going to conclude that she must be a pretty special girl."

"So you're going to let us see each other? I mean - in group?"

"Heaven's sake no," he replied, "I'm going to move her to a different living quarters - assuming that she was the instigator of last night's events. now I advise that you don't make trouble and save both of your futures."

"Yes sir." Jaime sighed, sounding a bit defeated and depressed.

"Jaime." Dr. Drake informally addressed, as though he was about to say something meaningful, but then he resisted. "Have a good day, Jaime, and don't take this for granite." The man then proceeded to push his glasses back up his nose and push the papers to the right side of his desk.

"Sure thing, Dr. Drake." Jaime sarcastically smiled, quickly exiting the office.

The already slow, lonely days became slower and lonelier. He kept on hoping that June could somehow find him through her supposed "ways." But she never did and at certain moments he worried about her and missed her deeply.

She was the one thing in Jaime's dull days that shed a little light. And now he felt empty again, emptier than ever. His roommate, David, noticed. He sulked into group, speaking at the very least he could get by, he ate only a little, and he was even more quiet than usual.

One day after group, David accompanied him back to their room.

"This is about June, isn't it?" He inquired, shoving his hands in the pockets of his blue jeans.

"What's about who?" Jaime mumbled, staring blankly ahead.

"All this feeling sorry for yourself. it's about June being gone, right?" He clarified.

"I'm not feeling sorry for myself. that is something I don't do." Jaime corrected, smirking at David.

"Whatever." David replied, letting out a frustrated sigh. Again, somebody was giving up on him. Jaime couldn't figure out why that bothered him. But he couldn't help what he was about to say.

"You know, I don't get you man." Jaime said, "you talk and talk and talk in group like you have this god damn awful life and then you tell me that I'm feeling sorry for myself." David paused.

"You might be right," he surrendered, though not sadly, "but all I know, is I face my fears and I'm trying to become a better person. and then I look at you, trying to grab all this attention by acting up or not doing anything at all, and I think its kind ty."

"Look, I stay out of everybody else's way, and they can stay out of mine - the last thing I want is attention. I don't see what's so ' ' about that. I do think its in' to get into everybody else's business and preach to them about something they think they know about, but really have no god damn clue. and aren't you as messed up as I am any way? If you're so great, why are you here? If you're looking for a charity project to make you feel better about yourself, find someone else. I can handle it alone." His tone was surprisingly calm, but his words were harsh and embittered.

"Look, I'm just trying to help you out. because I do know about it, I do know what its like to feel like your stuck, okay? But if you don't want my help, then that's fine with me - I have better things to do."

"Oh, let me guess - like crying about your poor old drunk mom?" Jaime interrupted. David didn't reply, only glaring at him for a second and then quickening his pace and practically jogging to his room, leaving Jaime behind. Then, when Jaime felt no one was looking he pulled his hair and clenched his teeth in anger. Stuck, was that what he was? Stuck? Who did David think he was, any way? However, he instantly regretted their exchange.

He walked the rest of the way even slower than before, pondering in his head what he would do next. He had to get out of here. he had to see June, the only person who he felt really understood him - even though she knew nothing about him. And he felt like she deserved to know, after all - he knew all about her. But where was she? He had to find out. The next morning, he regretted his conversation with David even more.

"Dave?" He sighed, outstretching his arms and yawning early that next morning. "Dave?" He called again.

"You talking to me?" David answered, rolling over on his side toward Jaime. "It's early, man. go to sleep."

"Wait." Jaime said, "I wanted to apologize."

"No way." he said, almost incoherently due to being so tired, "I stay out of your way and you stay out of mine. remember? No need for pointless apologies." His manner was cold.

"Look, I'm sorry for what I said about your mom." Jaime continued any way, "it was wrong. And I'm sorry for being such an ass - you were just trying to help. And if you know about 'it' so well, than I would think you'd give me another chance."

"What's in it for you?" David interrogated, sitting up and rubbing his eyes nonchalantly, as if he already knew the answer.

"A friend?" Jaime answered.

"A friend?" David mocked, "Since when do you need a friend? I thought you could handle it on your own?"

"Well, I admit." Jaime started, "I do need some information. but to tell you the truth, it would be nice to have someone to hang out with. I mean it can be really boring around here."

"I don't know why I'm doing this. I mean I should have knocked you out for what you said yesterday." he hesitated, "what do you want to know? Let me guess - it's about June."

"Well, yeah," Jaime answered. "I have to find out where she is. I have to see her. you've been here for a while, you don't know where they might have moved her, do you?"

"There's two places in town, one - of course here, and the other is about ten miles away. So forget about seeing her." Jaime looked down in sadness for a second and then he perked back up.

"So, I have to escape then. I mean I wouldn't mind getting out of here for good any way."

"I can't help you, Jaime. and I don't think I would if I could. I'm not going to get involved in this. ask Dudley and his gang, they've got connections."

"I believe I might have already talked to them, and I don't think they like me very much."

"Jaime - why don't you just stay here? It's not like jail or anything, and if you get caught that's where you're going to end up. and believe me, you will get caught, and that's only assuming you can actually find a way out of here. unless."

"What?" Jaime almost smiled, but his eyes were widening in anticipation.

"Well, family day is coming up. and I think you're aloud out unsupervised by counselors, for a while at least."

"That's it!" Jaime rejoiced, "You're my hero, Dave!"

"Oh, and it's David." he declared, "Dave sounds to 'Brady Bunch'."

"There weren't any Daves in the 'Brady Bunch'." Jaime laughed.

"Bobby, Greg. same difference."



Chapter 4: Misguided Hero

Family Day finally rolled around and Jamie woke up, an anxious, yet nervous excitement overwhelming him. He had a plan.

"Don't you find family day sort of like a backtracking irony?" Jamie questioned David, as the two dressed.

"What do you mean?" David heightened his eyebrows in confusion as he paused to look over to Jamie.

"Well. I mean almost everybody's in here because of their ed up parents, in fact a lot of people in here should be switching habitats with them."

"I get to see my little sister, and I get to escape for a little bit. it doesn't seem so bad to me."

"Is your mom coming?" Jamie continued.

"Yeah," David hesitated, "I'm not so enthused about that. but I think maybe the counselor was right about people changing. I mean I know my mom cares about me."

"I'm sorry again - about what I said." Jamie said softly, "I guess I was just a little jealous, I mean your mom has some problems, but she loves you. and I guess I always wanted that."

"How do you know your mom didn't love you?" David asked.

"You can't love anyone till you love yourself. she hated herself." Jamie explained.

"When did she die?"

"When I was eight," Jamie replied, tossing on a plain white shirt.

"How?"

"We better go," Jamie said quickly, walking towards the door. David decided not to interrogate any further.

"Is your dad coming?"

"Step dad," Jamie corrected rather defensively, as though he was offended, "and yes - it makes him look good to show up."

"How do you plan to get out of here?" David and Jamie exited the room, both side by side.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," Jamie laughed as though he was very wise and David was a mere child.

"C'mon!" David begged, "I'm the one who gave you the idea."

"Pride goeth before the fall." Jamie retorted, but after glancing at David's frustrated eyes he continued, "all in good time, my friend." He started walking a little faster, ahead of the curious roommate who was now lost in thought. The two rushed downstairs with the rest of the nervous crowd, into an even more crowded cafeteria where fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, and counselors awaited them. Jamie watched as David rushed over to his happy mother and sister, and as others did the same, while the rest - like Jamie - studied the faces for a familiar one.

Jamie's stepfather was a hard figure to miss. He had been in the army, and was tall and brawny, with a strong jaw and muscular arms. But there was no sign of him.

Soon, Jamie and a few other boys were the only loners. He tried to seem occupied, looking for his stepfather. He edged towards the other boys, hoping to blend in. But, a female counselor, a little over-weight and with curly red hair tied up in a messy ponytail, noticed him. He tried to look away, now studying the ceiling and the floor.

She slowly walked toward him; Jamie tried not to recognize it. She rested her slender hand on his shoulder, and he looked toward her, pretending to be surprised.

"Do you see your parents?" She asked, her southern voice soft and gentle.

"Parent," he stressed, "and no - I guess he decided not to show. Fortunately." The counselor did not respond, but she kept standing next to him, although her hand was now at her side. Jamie was very uncomfortable and he sensed that the counselor was too.

His mind started to drift and he pondered what would happen if his stepfather did not arrive. He didn't want to see him but otherwise his entire plan would be ruined. He started to back away, considering other options. But then, a squeak echoed across the walls and Jamie watched as his towering stepfather entered the room. Somehow, the counselor knew it was his 'parent' and she urged Jamie to meet him, gently shoving him forward.

And Jamie did. He gradually made his way through the families until he reached his stepfather's cold stare. The man wore a careless green short- sleeved shirt and tight blue jean pants that cut off short above his black boots. His hair was parted and combed though, and he appeared very sober. But his demeanor was apprehensive and irritated.

"Nice to see you again, Greg." Jamie greeted sarcastically, stressing the G's in his stepfather's name. "Before you say anything, I have some things to tell you, and I suggest we sit down."

"They've certainly turned you into an even bigger ass than you were, haven't they?" He whispered, his words sharp and strong. He lowered his head towards Jamies'. "Boy, you remember what I can do to you before you go mouthing off." His lips were small and wrinkled and his eyes were steady, heavily focusing in on Jamies'. Suddenly, Jamie became intensely fearful and he almost changed his mind.

"Let's sit." Jamie boldly suggested, as if he didn't hear a word that Greg had told him. He knew that his stepfather was not going to make a big scene, and he took advantage of it. So, the two sat across from each other on the cafeteria table. "You can't do anything to me right now. But maybe you can do something for me." Jamie hinted.

"You better watch it boy." Greg threatened, clenching his big hands together, and almost shaking the table.

"I need to get out of here, and you're going to make that happen. Or else I'll tell these counselors everything you ever did to me - the times you locked me in a closet without food. the times you beat me so bad I missed school." he began strong and determined and then his voice slowly faded and began to shake, tears merging along the rims of his dark eyes, "the times you - you told me I took away your wife and now you had to please yourself with m- me." but he managed to continue, suddenly becoming strong again, wiping away a tear, his voice still a bit shaky and hesitant though, "And these people aren't like the police, these people aren't like all those others you have fooled into believing your some kind of saint. they'll listen to every word I say," he started talking faster, "and then you'll end up in jail. so before you do anything, you think of what I can do to you."

"They won't believe you, Jamie." Greg's voice became angrier and louder, but he stayed seated, an evil smile forming along his face.

"Of course they will." Jamie quickly replied, but unconvinced of what he was saying, and fearing his father was quite right, "it makes sense - you ed me up, they'll see that." Greg was silent for an entire minute, the two both staring back at each other, blinking only a little. Another minute passed. Greg let out a defeated, angry sigh.

"I'll drop you off a few miles away. And then, you don't ever see me or talk about me again."

"That's more than I could've ever hoped for," Jamie stuttered, realizing what extremes he was about to go to. His face was held up, toward his stepfather the entire time. But fear engulfed him again, and as the two sneakily exited the building he almost changed his mind a second time, now turning his head back to the crowd. They did not exchange words as Jamie followed Greg to his shiny, blue pick up truck. He climbed into the passenger seat, and Greg climbed into the driver's seat. "Let me drive," Jamie suddenly commanded. "So I make sure this gets done the right way."

For whatever reason, Greg reluctantly agreed, and the two traded places. Jamie then started up the engine, and the two were off. He got a rush driving through the neighborhood and seeing usual groups of cars and people. He could almost taste it, freedom - June. He was finally out on his own. But as he reared around a less populated area, he felt a sharp budge in his stomach.

"Stop the car." his stepfather demanded calmly. Jamie immediately obeyed, pulling to a grassy shoulder. "Get out of the car."

Jamie's breathing became intense and heavy, and he stumbled out of the vehicle. His stepfather met him on the other side, holding a knife in his hand. Jamie's expression was angry and scared and he leaned up against the car as Greg hovered over him, getting closer and closer. Greg hid the knife as a silver Toyota flew by, and then he pulled it back out.

"What did you think you were doing, my boy?" He laughed, overjoyed that he, rather than his stepson, had the power. Suddenly, without hesitation, Greg flung his fist across Jamie's high cheekbone. Jaime's skin instantly cracked and started bleeding. He knelt to his side, resting his hands on his knees and then wiping his bloody cheek. He knew better than to fight back, it would only make it worse - his stepfather had a weapon and he was defenseless. But it wasn't over, Greg proceeded to kick Jamie with his sharp boot in the ribs, sending the boy to the rocky ground coughing and grabbing at his chest. Now that he was vulnerable, Greg continued to kick him. "Get up, Mr. Tough Guy - you think you can threaten me?" When Jamie stayed on the ground, feeling intense pain and feeling as though he was about to throw up - and starting to remember how detox had some of the same affects - his stepfather grabbed his shirtsleeve and threw him up against the car, Jamie's sore back indenting his truck.

"Greg." Jamie managed to say, his voice trembling, "think about this." his eyes started to roll in the back of his head, but he tried to keep focusing on the familiar, yet blurry, monster. His head gently swayed back and forth, and his stepfather had to grab a hold of his bruised chin to keep him from falling back down.

"What?" Greg replied, "Think about this?" He repeated the phrase with each sturdy punch and kick and at last he allowed Jamie to keel over. Jamie was almost un-conscience and he found it was much harder to deal with a beating without drugs or alcohol in his system. "I kept my promise, so you better get where your going fast before those damn counselors catch up to you. and remember, you don't see me or talk about me again."

Jamie's only sounds were coughing and he started to roll over, but found his body ached too much move.



Jamie lay in the grass for what seemed like hours, falling in and out of a light sleep. His heart was un-relentlessly pounding his aching chest, and his head throbbed. He felt sweaty and dirty, but most of all he felt pulsating pain all over his body and his stomach was weak. How did it happen? His stepfather always won. What was he to do now? He thought he had it all planned. His secret dream that his stepfather was a good man when sober was shattered and so was his dream of easily escaping and seeing June's face again. Now, he felt more alone than ever - more alone then he ever could have imagined.

He almost let out a defeated cry, but he resisted as a speeding car flew by, the sound piercing his tender eardrums. Why wouldn't anybody stop? Ten cars must have zoomed right past him, without even slowing down or noticing. Or, even worse - perhaps they did notice, but just didn't care. it was the story of his life.

Not knowing how or why, he managed to gather the strength to sit up, and spit out a glob of blood mixed with saliva. His mouth was parched and he could taste still the red blood. He almost collapsed onto the ground again, dizziness overwhelming him. But he blinked his eyes hard and tried to be really still; then he stood up a bit too hastily, hopelessly grabbing at the air for balance and then grabbing his head which suddenly hurt even more. Yet he maintained his stance, though rocking left and right a little.

His already rugged attire was soaked with sweat and mud, his hair was tossed, and his blue jeans were torn. He gazed towards the street, hoping a car would drive by and stop. And a car did drive by, in fact - that's exactly what it did. As Jamie was about to give up and settle on the ground, he watched a copper mini van appear in the distance. 'Probably a family,' he thought to himself, 'they won't stop.'

However, he was astonished to see it gradually slow down and come to a halt, about five feet away from him. He didn't respond physically or vocally to the stopping vehicle, only glaring at it, seemingly surprised. But he soon recognized the driver as the same pretty female counselor who had tried to reach him every day during group and he was relieved.













Chapter 5: Turning Back to the Future

"Oh my God!" The counselor yelped, hurriedly jumping out of the car and rushing over to him, her tennis shoes cracking against the scattered rocks. "What happened?" She cried, throwing her hands over his shoulders. He didn't reply, but his stone expression changed to one of deep sadness and hurt.

He raised his eyebrows, turned the edges of his mouth downward, and he started to shake; the sound began in his chest - a faint wheezing - and then it rose through his throat and it became a cry. Jamie fell into the counselor's arms, at first, limp, cold, and lifeless. But as she gradually embraced him back, he wrapped his arms tight around her stomach and he started to sob. Tears for every smothered memory. and he sobbed so hard, that his attempts at speaking were almost smothered too.

"I don't wanna be alone," he cried, his voice high pitched and loud and sure, "he always told me I killed her. that I made her . that I could have saved her, her and my brother. I'm so sorry!" he wailed. She let him ramble without interruption, gently rubbing his back. "I didn't save them. why did I live? God, I wish I died with them." She let him weep into her shoulder for a while, his fist softly pounding her arm as he stressed certain words. until finally he subsided. He bent his head downward, and she caressed his neck, letting him fall into her and then she pulled him upward, letting his vulnerable body lean onto her strong one.

She gripped her arm around his and led him to her car. He was drained, exhausted, and limping. sniffling every once and a while. "What's going to happen now?" he whimpered, in acceptance that his life would be different from now on and ready, but very scared at the same time. They slowed their walk as she answered.

"Well, we're going to have to bandage you up." she said.





"You know what I mean. I know you know it was my stepfather - who did this," and with that, she knew she had to be candid.



"You're going to have to talk to the police about your stepfather. and then probably a judge, you're going to have to tell them everything." her words were slow and not too pressing. He didn't say anything as they continued their saunter to the van. "You're going to be alright, Jamie," she assured, giving him a hard stare - as hard as his stepfather's was, but instead, of love and genuine concern.

"How'd you know to find me?" he suddenly wondered aloud.

"No one is allowed to leave," she explained. "You were missing."

"Davy boy." he mumbled.

"Huh?" she asked, quite puzzled.

"It's nothing. " He mumbled. She patted his hunched over shoulders, and helped him into the back seat where he instantly laid down, before she quickly took the driver's seat and put the car into reverse. And as she sped away, she noticed in the mirror that he had already fallen asleep and she couldn't help but smile.

Jamie awoke, wrapped in a light, white blanket and laying on top of a soft mattress, his head propped up with a fluffy pillow. He wore a hospital gown, and he could feel an itchy bandage encircled around his ribs and another one digging into his ankle. But his right arm was in a heavy, hot cast. He fumbled over his body with his left hand fingers, assessing his condition and he was surprised to find stitches along his cheekbone, and a band-aid on his chin. Besides that, only the blanket, the bandages, and the air, which flung at him quite strongly due to a hovering fan, covered his wounds. After glancing around his blurry surroundings, he realized he wasn't alone. A nurse was rummaging around some supplies in the far back of the room.

And his mind was suddenly flooded with memories - of the beating, of the counselor, of the trip to the infirmary, of the painful stitches, and then of him falling asleep so easily, partly due to his exhaustion and partly due to Tylenol - for that was all his drug-free body was to take in. He instantly realized that was probably why he was still so incredibly soar. And, after he remembered, he gripped his sheets with his weak hands. He was scared. He had finally given in to the counselor and he knew that everybody would look at him differently, especially after he told everything, which is what the counselor had prepared him to do. How would his stepfather react? Would Greg retaliate and would he lose? He always lost. why should it be any different now? And, for the first time in his life - he felt naked, relieved, but naked and he didn't like it very much. and he yearned for June more than ever.

The nurse finally revealed her big red lips, dark green eyes, and pudgy face. "Hello," she greeted cheerfully. She seemed truly happy to see Jamie awake. "How are you feeling, honey?"

"Like a train hit me." he mumbled, laying his head back down on the pillow.

"Well, in thirty minutes I can give you some more pills." she assured, walking closer to him, her high heels making a loud noise against the title floor. She gently patted his leg and then gave another huge smile, showing her bright, white teeth.

"You have really nice teeth," Jamie remarked, with no warning, yet sincerely.

"Good genes," she replied, not at all surprised by his compliment. And then her face turned to one of a more serious tone and she let out a long breath. "I need to tell you, that there will be some police later, who will need to ask you about your stepfather, okay?"

"Do I have to talk to them?" He inquired, although he already knew the answer.

"I'm afraid so," she answered, edging closer toward him. "You were hurt pretty bad and it's out of our hands and it's out of your hands," she explained further. He swallowed hard.

"I know." he sighed, "I guess I knew this would happen eventually."

"Unfortunately," she almost interrupted, "this doesn't happen for everybody. you have a chance of surviving this Jamie," For whatever reason, Jamie instantly trusted the nurse and didn't mind listening to her and interacting. Even he didn't understand why. perhaps he knew that the wound was already open and there was no turning back. And perhaps he was finally ready. "A David Walker is waiting outside. Would you like to see him?"

"David?" he gasped, "I can't believe he's here. yeah, I guess I have to."

"Okay," she smiled again, and swiftly exited. A few minutes later, David entered. Jamie was startled to see him with combed back hair and wearing a nice, collared shirt with cackie pants.

For a while they didn't speak, only looking at each other, searching for the right words. Finally, David broke the agonizing silence.

"I know we haven't known each other for very long," he said, "but I consider you a pretty good friend of mine and I'm really sorry about what happened. How're you doing?" It seemed honest, yet rehearsed.

"It's not your fault - it's mine." Jamie replied.

"How can you say that?" David asked, rushing over to him and settling on a chair a few feet away. David felt more comfortable, now that Jamie had spoken.

"I had a plan to get out of here - and it backfired on me, I don't know why I expected it not to."

"So your step dad did this to you?" David stuttered, seemingly baffled.

"Look man," Jamie sat back up, resting his back against the pillow. "It doesn't matter. I don't even know how you figured that out. thanks for coming by. you don't have to be my friend though." His tone changed so quickly and it puzzled David.

"What do you mean?" David stuttered again, even more baffled.

"This is what I come from, this is what I am." Jamie explained.

"It may be what you come from, but it isn't what you are," David retorted, arising from the chair, "it's not your fault, man." he shouted. And suddenly, the roles of Jamie being leader and David - the follower, were almost switched, if only Jamie had followed.

"And how would you know? Could you just leave?" Jamie requested, fatigue overwhelming him. He looked away from his friend, down to the dull sheets.

"Okay," David said, "I'll leave - if that's what you want." and he did. But, as he opened the door, the female counselor, who he at last learned was 'Rhonda', trotted in, the two almost bumping into one another.

She waited for David to shut the door before saying anything. "You look much better," she laughed, filling in David's spot on the chair. "How are you doing?"

"Why does everybody keep asking me that?" He yelled.

"Because we care." the counselor answered, a little taken aback. She tucked a blond curl behind her ear and folded her arms across her chest.

"Shouldn't I have a male counselor any way? I mean isn't that how it works?"

"Well, this wasn't really all planned, but if you'd prefer a male counselor to be here, I can arrange it." Rhonda had thought her and Jamie had a connection and that he was coming around, and now she felt extremely hurt and helpless.

"I don't care," Jamie mumbled, quite ambivalently. Rhonda gulped and a tear almost ran down her cheek. "Why couldn't you have just let me be?" he said, almost as though he didn't mean for it to be heard aloud though. "I wish you would have just let a car hit me."

"Don't say that, Jamie." Rhonda ordered, with unwavering authority. "Look, the police are here." And her hurt from Jamie's behavior, turned into simple worry and compassion. She didn't want to lose him and she feared she would. "Would you like me to stay in here with you?"

"Do what you want." Jamie answered, his expression bitter. So she did, assuming he was to stubborn to say yes, and she stayed, standing in the background.

Two tall, male police officers huddled around his bed, notepads and pens ready. Their bushy eyebrows, square jaws, and muscles reminded him of his stepfather. "I'm very sorry we have to ask you these questions now, but the earlier we find out the information, the sooner we can bring your assaulter to justice.. Now, he is your stepfather, Greg Denim, correct?" The first officer, bald with a furry mustache, asked.

Jamie hesitated for a very long five seconds. "Yes." he sighed.

"Will you be prepared to address a court about your stepfather's abuse?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Can you tell me what happened, son?" the officer questioned, a little bit more informally and sincerely.

"Are you guys gonna put me in some kind of witness protection or something, because if he finds out about all of this." Jamie's hand started to shake.

"Don't worry, our job is to protect you," the second police officer, a little younger and with thick black hair, assured.

"It's my fault though." he mumbled, "I told him that if he didn't get me out of this place, I'd tell the counselors about everything he's ever done to me. and so I was driving, and he had a knife." And Jamie told the story.

"Has your stepfather ever abused you physically before yesterday?" The first officer interrogated. Jamie hesitated again.

"Yes," he finally managed to say.

"Was it a common practice for him to abuse you?" The second officer added. Jamie hesitated again. How could he reveal so much with just one word? How could they be so calm, while he was panicking inside?

"Yes." he said again, a little bit more defensive.

"Did your stepfather ever neglect you or sexually abuse you?" Jamie's heart started to pound. He didn't expect that question. He gripped the bed sheets even tighter and glared down its flowery design, something he hadn't noticed before.

"Yes." he answered in an almost incoherent high pitch. He felt droplets of sweat trickle down his chin and onto his chest.

"Did he ever sexually molest you?" The first one asked.

"Can you just stop?" He cried, pulling the bed sheets to his chest. "I can't do this. I thought I could, but I can't." the officers looked very disappointed and they sighed together.

"How about I come back another time?" The second officer suggested. Jamie didn't reply, but he knew the officer was asking Rhonda any way and she nodded her head. And Jamie then felt as if the officer cared more about catching his stepfather than about what his stepfather had done to him. He noticed that he was shaking now, and he felt warmer than ever. And although he had a nurse, a visitor, a counselor, and two police officers he felt alone. again. so alone.









































Chapter 6: Dudley Do-Right

Rhonda started to walk over to him; her expression was different than usual. She appeared to have figured out what she needed to do. Jamie anticipated her words.

"My brother ," she suddenly blurted out, very calmly. Jamie jumped a little at her words, and began to fumble his fingers and glare down at the warm blanket. "I used to blame myself." she continued.

"Why?" He asked, his voice low.

"I thought if I had been more of a loving sister," she started, "that he may not have done what he did."

"You're right." Jamie smirked, "if you'd been there for him he probably wouldn't have ."

"No," she instantly retorted, "See - that's where you're wrong. It's rather selfish to think that one has that much power and control over another human being, don't you think?" Jamie seemed a bit puzzled; he had never looked at it from that perspective. "It took me a while to figure that out. that there are going to be people who are confused, who are sick, who are wrong. and sometimes we can't do anything about it. And we can't blame ourselves when bad things happen."

"During the first few days. you told June that she had the power to change a relationship and you told me the same thing." Jamie rambled, "but no one has the power to change someone else, do they? Why would you give someone that kind of false hope?" Rhonda brought her finger to her lips, searching her memory.

"I guess you're right," she sighed, "I'm sure I learn more from you kids then you guys could ever learn from me."

"How'd he do it?" Jamie asked, surprisingly curious.

"What?" She asked, confused.

"Your brother."

"He jumped off a cliff and into a shallow river," she described, still calm. Jamie shuddered at the thought, similar memories flooding his mind.

"Why do you blame yourself for your mother's suicide?" She inquired.

"I could have saved her," Jamie answered quickly.

"How?"

"She told us, me and my older brother, that we were going to our grandmas - we always did when my step dad. you know. but we didn't, she drove out to this lake. I can't really remember it well," he clenched the bed sheets once again, "And we were confused. then she put the car locks in and asked if we had our seat belts on and when we said yes. well, I didn't have mine on, but I fastened it right when she asked us that. well, after that." He gasped for a breath of air, and swallowed hard, "she sped off into the lake." Rhonda took in a huge breath of air, and as she let it out, it was shaky.

"And she and your brother died, but you lived?" She concluded.

"Yes. my brother, he pushed me out, he gave his life for me. I could have saved him, but I was too confused, too scared."

"How old were you Jamie?" Rhonda asked sympathetically. He hesitated.

"Eight."

"And you mean to tell me, that an eight year old kid is expected to," she cut off, clasping his hand. Rhoda noticed his nervousness and she watched a droplet of sweat cling to his chin and then fall. "Can you promise me something?"

"I may not be perfect. but I always stay true to my word," he replied.

"I need you to promise me that you'll never blame yourself. for your mother's suicide, your brother's death, for your stepfather. you got cheated in life, Jamie, but it's not your fault.. And I need you to tell that judge about your stepfather, so he doesn't do what he did to you to anyone else, but most of all - so you can be free from of all of this. I need you to know that there is love in this world."

"I don't know if I can do that," Jamie stuttered, on the verge of tears.

"I will be with you the whole way, Jamie," Rhonda reassured, "I won't leave you alone. I will be here for you." Jamie looked into her eyes, seemingly about to surrender.

"I don't know," he squeaked. And she immediately bent over to hug him, and he wrapped his arms around her neck and managed to hold back from crying. She smiled, for she hadn't lost him.

Jamie didn't mind being fussed about at the hospital - it was new to him, and he found it somewhat comfortable. A few days passed by, and Jamie became more and more eager. The court date was nearing.

David came back to visit Jamie.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" David asked.

"Better," Jamie sighed, "how about you? I'm sorry about what happened last time. I was taking other stuff out on you. you know I've got to go to court?"

"No kidding," David laughed, "and swear to the bible and everything?"

"Yeah," Jamie laughed back.

"I have something for you," David changed the subject, sitting next to his friend.

"Flowers? How nice." Jamie joked. But David pulled out a crumpled up letter from his left blue jean pocket instead.

"It's from June." and at that Jamie rose from the pillow and reached for the letter.

"I've been thinking about her all the time." Jamie whispered, like a giddy child ready to open a Christmas present. "Where'd you get this?"

"From Dudley and his gang," David explained, "I think they took pitty on you." A smile slid across both of the boy's faces.

"You read it?" Jamie asked.

"No desire to!"

Dear Jamie,

I'm sorry for how I acted our last night together. I mean otherwise, we'd still be together. It's just whenever I love a guy; I do to them what I did to you. I know that's all guys want and I figured you'd want it. I thought about how you didn't. I'm doing okay. I hope you are too. Write back soon.

Love, June

"What's it say?" David questioned.

"I thought you had no interest." Jamie mocked.

"I don't," he responded.

"You wouldn't understand."

"You think it's a bright idea getting hooked up with a crazy girl?" David raised his eyebrows.

"June's not crazy. not any crazier than I am." Jamie argued. David left it at that.

"I've gotta go," he informed, rising from the chair.

"Hey," Jamie said, a little bit more serious. "Thank you for this. and you'll be there? In court, I mean? I need a friend there."

"Of course," David replied, without hesitation. And then he left.

At that moment, Jamie felt overwhelmed. He didn't know how to handle Rhonda, June, David, even Dudley's compassion. He had lived a life full of rejection, beatings, and years of people telling him he wasn't worth anything. And now, in a period of a few days, people were telling him that they cared, that they 'loved' him. And he felt mixed emotions, of intense fear and uncertainty. He felt it was almost too good to be true, and as though he didn't deserve it, and therefore these people would let him down - they would get hurt or they would abandon him - he knew it couldn't last for very long. Just like his grandmother, his only light in his life, who passed away soon after he was taken into his stepfather's custody. He knew better than to trust it. But he also knew that he hated his stepfather and had been waiting for revenge since the man had first hit his mother.

The court date finally rolled around. Jamie had rehearsed the process with a state employed lawyer. But nobody else had heard the details, and he almost fainted every time he imagined being on the stand, revealing to the few in the courtroom memories and feelings he'd kept bottled up inside for more than half of his life.

They had found his stepfather, who wasn't expecting retaliation and was probably too unstable to be organized enough to flea. Jamie had been moved to protected custody, a cleanly facility with minimal furniture and resources, but enough. Greg was to be jailed until the hearing, which was the morning Jamie woke up feeling sick.

He felt as though he was about to throw up, and his body shook and he was cold. He knew it wasn't an illness, only his nerves. He did throw up. 4 times that day. Rhonda was immensely worried about him and kept on telling him that she wasn't leaving. Jamie found himself comforted by her words, but he was still scared, anxious, nervous, and tormented the entire afternoon prior to the hearing. He had been told about the limited number of people in the court room, he had been told what the judge was like, he had been told where his stepfather would be, he had been told about what the defense attorney would ask him. and yet he felt unsure, and he never liked to feel unsure.

In the opening of the hearing, Jamie glanced through the courtroom, to see David, Rhonda and a few others from the hospital viewing, two policemen standing guard, a few lawyers, and then the towering male judge at the very front. He was bald, with a big noise, and stereotypical over- sized glasses along with an oversized black robe. Jamie watched his small, wrinkled hand clasp the hammer and pound it onto his desk. But he didn't hear any words as exchanges were made and he was asked to sit and stand at various times. His mind had drifted off and the whole ordeal was un- comfortably surreal. He couldn't help but look back at Rhonda and David often, looking for support and making sure they were staying there and not leaving. He was surprised to see them every time he glanced over.

"Jamie!" he heard the lawyer nudge him, as though he had been trying to get a hold of him the entire time. And then Jamie realized he was standing, not sitting and the judge was looking at him, expecting something. "It's time to take the stand."































Chapter 7 Courage In Court

Jamie stood still; glaring at the eager judge until the lawyer softly nudged him. "It's time." the lawyer whispered. Jamie mumbled an incoherent reply and gradually made his way to the high chair, hidden behind the railing to the left of the judge. A chubby bailiff followed him to the stand, and Jamie expected to see him stick out a bible. But he didn't.

"Please raise your right hand," the bailiff ordered, as if he had said the words a million times. Jamie hesitated at first but then obeyed. The bailiff seemed irritated at his slow response. Jamie watched the bailiff's lips move, the man's eyes embodying no emotion, puzzling Jamie - who felt as though he was about to throw up a fifth time, as though everything familiar to him, everything comfortable was about to be mercilessly stripped away from him any moment. He automatically answered, "I swear," even though he hadn't consciously registered the bailiff's question.

He then noticed his lawyer, whom he had been practicing with daily, approaching the stand. The lawyer's name was Dennis Growdey. Growdey was a handsome man, and Jamie imagined that worked in his own favor. The lawyer wore a nice black suit that complemented his short, jet-black hair and white shiny teeth and fit like a snakeskin on snake. But he wasn't evil like snakes had the reputation of being, yet a genuinely strong believer in justice. He imagined Growdey believed in justice, because he was young - an idealist, and of course - he was state employed and was probably not as distracted like other lawyers by money. Like the nurse, Jamie instantly had begun to trust him.

"Jamie," Growdey started, pacing around the tiled floor. "Can you tell me a little about your stepfather, Greg Sanders. how he came into you and your mother's life?"

Jamie paused and studied his reflection in the wooden railing. "One day, my mom just brought him home."

"How old were you Jamie?"

"I guess almost seven," Jamie sighed, a little bit unsurely.

"Did you like him?"

"Yeah, at first. He seemed okay." Jamie nervously twiddled his thumbs.

"When did your mother marry him?" Growdey asked.

"After a few months or so. She married him almost right away it seemed." He shifted his weight to his left side, and breathed heavily.

"Do you remember your childhood pretty well, Jamie?" Although rehearsed, he felt like this was the first time he actually really thought about the question. It was a hard question to answer. It had been relatively easy up until this point, but he hated remembering his childhood.

"I think I blocked some of it out. I mean, until recently. It's kind of blurry to me." He rubbed his eyes with his fingers, partly because he couldn't keep still and partly because he was exhausted.

"Why do you think you blocked some of it out?"

"I guess there are just some things little kids can't handle," he explained, pressing his finger against the railing and looking down.

"What can you tell me about your childhood?"

Jamie hesitated once more, and then took a deep breath and began.

"My mother loved me and my brother a lot, but she wasn't very healthy." He bit his bottom lip hard.

"How so?"

"She was a druggie, alcoholic. she was a stripper at a local bar, I don't think it was very good for her. One night she took me and my brother out in the car, and drove off into a lake. She and my brother drowned." The words flowed a little easier and a little quicker, a bitter tone emerging.

"Why did she marry your stepfather so soon?"

"I think she felt he was secure, he had a lot of money and he seemed decent at first." He then ruffled his shirt and shifted his body weight back to his right, slumping down in the chair.

"You're mother had a history of choosing abusive men as her boyfriends, am I correct?"

"Yeah," Jamie reluctantly answered, sitting upright.

"And was your stepfather abusive to you, Jamie?"

"Yes," he mumbled.

"Would you mind sharing with us how he was abusive?" Jamie's dark eyes followed the lines on the floor, searching for a place in his memory to begin, and the bravery to begin.

"At first he just hit my mom. he took advantage of her a lot, she never really was there for us any more - because of him. But then he started to hit me and my brother. and worse." he hesitated.

"It's okay Jamie," Growdy encouraged.

"He'd lock us up in the closet without food or water for a day or two while he was with other girls. he'd." Jamie began to shake. "He'd rape my mother. and after she died, he'd." Jamie began to shake even more, and he drew his trembling hands into his lap and looked down at his feet. He couldn't bare to look at anyone - not Growdey, not the judge, and certainly not June. He then brought his hands up to his quivering lips and tried to resist the tears that threatened to fall.

"Did he sexually molest you, Jamie?" How did the lawyer stay so calm?

He couldn't answer, but he nodded his head, and looked up at Growdey.

"I need to hear you say it," the judge ordered, his deep and loud voice surprising Jamie.

"Y-yes," he stuttered, feeling extremely cold and even shakier after his words.

"And when the two of you left 'Hope', did he proceed to beat you on the side of the road, threatening you with a knife?"

"Yes," he sighed in a high-pitched voice, as though he was incredibly shameful of the fact.

"Thank you Jamie, you may step down." Growdey gently smiled, and directed Jamie to his seat. He couldn't look at Rhonda or his friends. Instead, he stared blankly ahead, gripping his chair with his shaking hands and trying to keep from throwing up. But suddenly he felt a warm hand, clasp over his shivering shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," he heard. It was June's voice. He pulled away, but not bitterly, just sadly, and bent his head forward, glaring at the wooden desk and then burying his face in the palms of his hands. The lawyer was soon seated beside Jamie.

"It's over. you did it." Jamie didn't respond vocally, but he nodded his head in gratitude towards Growdey, a look of fear, though, still surmounted on his face. "It's over, kid. I'm proud of you."

After the judge adjourned, and before any conclusions were made as to his stepfather's fate, he and the lawyer quickly exited.

"Have they found him yet?" Jamie asked, his voice weak and tired.

"I don't know," Growdey replied, concerned, "I'll find out."

"I'm going to let you go to your friends, alright?" He suggested, "I'm sure you've had just enough of me."

Jamie smiled sadly, and turned away toward the huddle of bodies that eagerly waited outside the courtroom, observing him from a distance.

"Thanks for coming," he said.

"You were very brave," Rhonda complimented, "that took a lot of courage."

"Did it?" A hint of irony in his tone puzzled the three.

"How bout we go to eat?" David clasped his hands together, and walked toward his friend. "A celebration meal, of." he paused, "to new beginnings." Jamie managed to smile again, a little bit more encouraging to his patient observers. June had been silent, and the two had been glancing at each other and looking away, and then glancing at each other again. But neither had addressed each other. Suddenly, her chest arose as she took in a deep breath, and she practically raced toward him - as much as one could run in the small distance. She threw her arms around his frail body, and Jamie wasn't surprised - but somewhat relieved, as he let his head fall onto her shoulder. David and Rhonda both backed away and waited. He finally embraced her back, not tightly - very weakly. They didn't exchange any words. There weren't any words. they had already been spoken. He whimpered into her soft neck, and she solemnly sniffled in return. Tears streamed down both their cheeks.

She gracefully pulled away, still clenching his arms with her hands and staring at him intensely, and Jamie stared back at her. And then she nodded and smiled through her pain. His face was pale and defeated, but he had survived, and June was gazing back at him with her wonderful eyes. And he knew that everything was going to turn out right, somehow. because if he hadn't drowned yet, he knew he could keep on swimming. Finally, the two started to walk toward the entrance to the outside world, hand in hand, David and Rhonda trailing behind.

And he was no longer hiding.

"I think we should go to my lake-house sometime," she boldly stated, "I can teach you how to swim."

"I don't like to swim, you know that. and now you know why."

"Exactly why I have to teach you."

"I already know how."

"If you're drowning, I'll save you Jamie." she assured.

"I told you - I already know how to swim."

"Then swim."