Contest entry for the Light the Darkness contest
Title: We Found Love
Pairing: Angela/Jake
Rating: M for language and dark themes.
Summary: Hearing that you need help is never well received—especially knowing that it's mental therapy that's being indicated. When that treatment is actually mandatory, it makes matters much worse. Sometimes, what you least want is what you need the most. This is a tale of broken souls, mending hearts, and finding love in the most unexpected places.
Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.
Please keep in mind that this story takes place in a rehabilitation center; therefore, sensitive subject matter will be discussed. As much as it will pain me, if you have any kind of triggers, I ask that you skip my story and move on to the other entries.
Word Count: 9137
Hearing that you need help is never well received—especially knowing that it's mental therapy that's being indicated. When that treatment is actually mandatory, it makes matters much worse.
Being underage, if your parents take you to a rehab center, you don't have a choice but to stay until you've completed your treatment or you've turned eighteen.
I prefer the latter, because clearly, there is nothing anyone can do here that will help me.
My wounds run deep; they're not something that will heal easily. I mean, how can they if the mere fact of existing is too difficult some days? Mom says that I have to give this program my best, but I don't want that.
I don't want anything.
Not after Ben broke his promises along with my heart.
No, he didn't just break my heart. He took my soul with him.
Everything was lost when he vanished from my life.
Now, the whole world can go fuck itself.
The only thing I wanted afterward was to die, except that I failed at that. And it wasn't because my attempt was feeble—five slashes across each of my wrists should have done the trick—but apparently, I was supposed to remain on this earth and suffer.
All I'm left with now are permanent scars and Ben's broken promises that resound in my head. They're what led me to one of the bungalows in the psychiatric division of Seattle's New Directions Rehabilitation Clinic.
So, here I am, being admitted by my therapist during what seems to be my first session, and to be honest, it's not going that well.
I look at the young woman sitting behind her desk and examine her closely as she speaks to me. She has fiery, copper hair that flows in soft waves, framing her freckled nose and bright green eyes which reflect innocence. She probably has no idea how to handle an intolerable patient as I will be, seeing as I'm not planning on making this easier for her.
My gaze falls on the nameplate on her desk and I read her name: Makenna Jones, PsyD.
Raising my brow at her, I ask, "How old are you, Makenna?"
"Twenty-four," she replies, frowning. "Why?"
"Aren't you too young to have a doctorate already? Are you some medical genius like Doogie Howser?"
"Doogie Howser?" she asks, dumbfounded.
"Never mind," I tell her. "You were probably too busy fast tracking through school to even know who he is."
"Okay," she replies. "How about we talk about Ben, then?"
I stiffen immediately as his name slips past her lips and glare at her. "I don't want to talk about Ben."
Makenna exhales, laying her pen across her notepad as she says, "You're going to have to talk if you want to get out of here, Angela. We can do this for as long as you want, but it's not going to get you anywhere. The longer you refuse to receive treatment, the longer it'll take you to leave."
"I don't need treatment," I snarl. "The only reason I'm here is because my parents are forcing me."
"Your parents want what's best for you; they want to help you."
"By bringing me here?!" I screech. "How can they not know that being here makes me unhappy?"
"You could be happy if you allowed us to help you," she adds.
"How many fucking times do I need to tell you that I don't want your help?" I snap. "During the mandatory psychiatric hold in the hospital, I proved that I wasn't going to attempt to kill myself. I'd promised that I would never do it again—and I'm still holding that promise—so, why won't you leave me alone already?!"
Makenna isn't fazed by my outburst, remaining cool and collected, instead. "I know that you're grieving, and being angry is definitely one of its stages—which is why you're acting out—so if you think you're going to get out of here by doing so, you are terribly wrong."
I don't have any response to that, knowing that she's right. Makenna stares at me while I remain quiet, glaring at her for what seems to be minutes. Finally, she opens a drawer and takes out a notebook.
As she hands it to me, she says, "You don't want to talk? Fine, but you're going to have to write in this journal every day. I want you to write down how you feel, what you're thinking—anything and everything. Aside from this assignment, you will be required to attend group therapy daily and you will come back here every Monday and Thursday for your personal therapy."
Subsequently, she continues to instruct me about the rules that I have to abide by at the clinic, and then shows me to my room. When we reach it, she knocks gently before opening the door.
I look around as we step inside, immediately noticing the withdrawn girl that's sitting in the middle of one of two beds, reading what seems to be a worn book. Her gaunt appearance is a huge contrast to the lilac walls and atmosphere that presides inside them.
The double room is very simple, having only the minimal furniture that are two beds, a bedside table between them, and a large drawer desk—all in white. To the right of my roommate's bed is a large window that allows sunlight to cast a glow in the room. The bedding matches the color of the walls, giving you a soothing vibe in the otherwise claustrophobic chamber.
Makenna looks over to the girl, and says, "Jess, this is Angela; she's going to be your new roommate."
Jess looks over at me, smiling glumly. "Hi," she mutters. It's obvious that her indifference toward me is something normal for her since Makenna doesn't comment on it.
As she remains silent, I take a minute to look her over. Jess doesn't look too old—her clothes indicating that she might be in her early twenties. With her black rimmed glasses perched on her nose, she looks intellectual, but the emptiness that can be found in her eyes allows you to know that not even her intelligence has saved her from landing here. She also seems to be a music junkie, given the Billy Joel t-shirt that she's sporting.
What stands out to me the most, though, are the black rubber bracelets that adorn her wrists.
I wonder if she has scars similar to mine underneath…
"So," Makenna begins, bringing me out of my reverie, "dinner is at 5:00 PM, giving you about an hour to unpack and get settled in. Dinner is served promptly, so don't be late."
I just nod, looking over at the small closet that's parallel to my bed.
"Okay, I guess that's it," Makenna sighs. "I'll see you two later." After that, she makes her exit, leaving Jess and I alone.
.
.
.
Once I finish putting my things away, I lie on my bed, looking up at the ceiling. I didn't expect Jess to talk to me, so it doesn't bother me as me much when she remains quiet. I don't mind the silence, though; there are a million thoughts running through my head whilst I scrutinize the painted material above my head, noticing its textured brush strokes.
How long is it going to take me to go truly mad in here? I ponder.
There's only so much one can handle being confined in a house full of crazies, right?
Sighing, I turn in my bed to look at Jess. She's still reading her book, so she doesn't notice as I stare at her, wondering what kind of demons are haunting her, and mulling over what could have driven her to land at a place like this. Nobody knows what's truly going inside our minds, so no one's aware of what can make us snap.
Some people bottle their anger or sadness, allowing it to fester for a long time before they unleash it upon themselves or others and sometimes both. But there are also other people that only need a little push for them to lose control of everything, presenting them the opportunity to wallow in the darkest pits of their mind.
If I were to be honest with myself for a second, I would admit that being here terrifies me to my core.
And I don't even know why.
"I'm not into girls, roommate, so stop making googly eyes at me," Jess grumbles.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I snap.
Not at all affected by my remark, Jess continues to read, flipping a page casually as she replies, "You're staring at me, and I know that many girls that come in here are actually depressed lesbians—there might actually be a couple of them in the bungalow right now—so yeah, excuse me from thinking you're hitting on me."
"You know what?" I say, sitting up. "I don't have time for this shit. I'm gonna ask Makenna to move me into another room."
"Well, good luck with that. We all know how much therapists like to bend to our every will," she deadpans.
Shaking my head, I mutter, "Fuck you."
Jess chuckles darkly. "I already told you I'm not into girls, so no thank you."
I stand, ignoring her as I turn to go into our small ensuite bathroom, when she calls me out.
"I was just kidding," she says to my back. "And if you're gonna use the restroom, make it quick. We need to head over to the dining room soon unless we wanna be the last in line."
"Sure," I mumble, heading toward the bathroom.
.
.
.
Around five minutes later, Jess and I head over to the dining room, passing the other girls' rooms. I look around, taking everything in again. When I arrived with my parents, Makenna gave us a tour, showing us the amenities of the rehabilitation clinic that truly make you feel at home, which they should, considering how much they charge you during your stay.
Once we finally reach our destination, I look around, expecting people to be gawking at me, yet it doesn't happen. Everyone goes about with their business, making it seem as if they're ignoring me on purpose. I don't know whether that's good or not, but it gives me a small reprieve.
After Jess and I have collected our meals, we head over to a table and eat in silence. Ignoring everyone around me as I'm lost in my thoughts once again, I clearly miss some sort of announcement since everyone is gathering their things and making their way out of the dining room.
"Come on, we've gotta go," Jess tells me, as she stands.
"Where?" I ask, bewildered.
"To your first house meeting," she explains. "We have it in our group therapy room every Sunday night after dinner."
"And I'm guessing this isn't optional, right?" I point out, standing and gathering my dishes.
"That's right," Jess says. "And make sure you pay attention because Makenna's going to give us our weekly schedule."
.
.
.
Upon entering the group therapy room, I spot Makenna already seated at the head of a circle of chairs. There are six other girls there, too, and they're finally looking at me expectantly. The only two seats left are next to Makenna; therefore, Jess and I take them.
"Alright, girls," Makenna says. "Everyone's here, so let's get started, shall we?"
The other girls nod or mumble their agreement, waiting for her next instruction.
Makenna shifts in her seat and looks around at the girls. "First of all, like all you have already noticed, we have a new member in our bungalow. Her name is Angela and she's going to be staying with Jess." She looks over at me and instructs me to say "hi."
I wave my hand dejectedly as I do so, scowling lightly.
A blonde, tough-looking girl scoffs. "Oh, she's a fucking peach, man."
"Rosalie," Makenna scolds. "How many times do I have to speak to you about your language?"
"Sorry, Makenna," Rosalie deadpans, looking over at me. "I will try to watch my mouth."
"I don't know why you don't," another girl adds. "You keep losing points for not doing it, yet you continue to curse."
"Bella," Makenna exhales, looking pointedly at the freckled brunette.
Bella looks at her apologetically. "I won't do it again; I promise."
Makenna shakes her head, "Do it again and you'll lose two points."
"Fuck," Bella mutters under her breath, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
A girl with short, blonde hair laughs lowly, shaking her head at the girls' antics; she's sitting to my right.
"Alright, so let's all introduce ourselves, shall we?" Makenna prompts. "Everyone say your name and what you're in treatment for."
That's totally uncouth, in my opinion, but I guess that's how they do things here…
Rosalie starts first, saying that she's in here for posttraumatic stress disorder, but she doesn't share what caused it—not that I expected her to, though.
The blonde girl that is sitting to my right is next, sharing that she tried to commit suicide because she was diagnosed with leukemia and she was going to die anyway—her name is Jane. Looking at her closely, I see all the telltale signs that I hadn't noticed before: the dark circles surrounding her sunken eyes, the pale color of her skin, but the most notorious sign has to be her short hair. Now I know that her chemotherapy is probably the cause for it to be of that length.
Bella goes next, telling me that she's a lesbian and she's having a hard time coming to terms with it because her mother doesn't accept her sexuality. That, in turn, has caused her depression, leading her to intern herself in the clinic.
The next girl to go is Lauren; she's a washed out blonde that says she's a recovering addict, which doesn't surprise me in the least since she's got "junkie" written all over herself. And I don't say that with disdain—I really hate labeling people—but Lauren is literally the poster child for troubled teens.
Then, it's Irina's turn. She confesses that she's been battling bulimia for a long time, but that she hopes this will be the time she succeeds battling her disease. She also goes on to explain that she's in a ballet company; therefore, the pressure to stay thin has been greater. I can absolutely see that she's a dancer; it's shown in her poise and her delicateness. What's striking about her, though, is her dark hair—that color is not what you'd expect a girl with fair skin like hers to have.
The penultimate girl to share her story with me is Charlotte; she's probably the shiest girl in our group. She's also a brunette like Bella, but Charlotte lacks the brightness that Bella has in her eyes, which is perhaps a result of her introversion. Charlotte doesn't tell me what her ailment is, but I can see its effect on her in the scars she wears on one of her cheeks.
Lastly, Jess tells me that she has bipolar disorder and she's also coming to terms with it. She doesn't elaborate more, but that's fine. It's not as if I'm going to spill my guts to them, either.
I simply say, "I'm Angela, and I'm depressed," when they're done.
And that's all that they get from me.
=][=
"Well, you're certainly writing out your emotions," Makenna tells me as she reads my journal. "I'm glad."
"It's because I don't want to mess up," I tell her honestly. "I don't want to get into trouble."
"You won't," she says. "There is no right way to do things here, but you're certainly gaining points by doing what you're asked. You have yet to share your story in group therapy, but there's still time for that."
I simply nod, watching as she continues to look through my words. They're a lot given that I've been here for two weeks, yet it feels like eternity.
A long, dreadful eternity.
As Makenna said, I have been doing everything that is required of me. I get up early in the morning when I'm supposed to, and I make my bed before leaving my room. During the various therapies that I'm asked to assist, I do my best while still keeping to myself. I haven't made friends with anyone, yet that wasn't my purpose when coming here—not that I actually have one, though—so that's not surprising.
I also eat all my meals and take my meds willingly, and that is a huge feat in comparison with the other girls in my bungalow. From all of them, I would say that Irina is having the most trouble keeping up with the rest.
But that's not something I worry about; it's not my problem anyway.
Makenna looks up at me eventually, and says, "Carmen told me that you participate the most during music therapy."
"It's true."
"You like music," she states, raising her brow.
"I do."
"That's something you had in common in with Ben, right?"
"Yes, he played the cello just like my father."
"And you play the piano?"
"Only sometimes now," I say.
"During music therapy," she states once again. "And that's good. Music can heal, too."
I doubt that, but whatever.
.
.
.
"I love you," Ben said, wrapping his arms around me.
I gave him a small kiss and whispered, "I love you, too."
"Do you want to go in the water?" he asked.
I silently looked past him as I considered it, taking in the ocean which was a few feet away from our bonfire. The day had been gloomy since the morning, so I assumed the water would be cold. A shiver ran up my spine, making me hold onto Ben a little tighter.
"No, we'll probably freeze to death if we go in the water, baby. Let's just stay here."
"You're exaggerating," he chuckled, pulling away from our embrace as he tugged on my hand. "C'mon, scaredy-cat, let's go in the water!"
I pulled my hand back and said, "No, Ben, let's stay here. Please."
"Whatever, I'm going in," he scoffed, turning in the direction of the ocean.
I crossed my arms, and yelled, "Ben, come back here!"
He looked over his shoulder and smirked. "Nope, not happening!"
"Ben, I'm not kidding! Come back!" I said, stomping my feet in a petulant manner.
He just ignored my pleas and continued walking in the opposite direction, getting closer to the water and away from me. As he did so, the sea became pitch black, mirroring the color of the sky. A thunderbolt broke through the sky, deafening everything with its resonance as it flashed like a camera whilst capturing a photograph. I chased after him as he sprinted toward the ocean, but I could never catch up; Ben dived into the water and swam away from me quickly.
When I finally reached the wet sand that linked to the sea, my feet seemed to have been cemented into the sand, ceasing me from movement. Ben submerged inside the ocean, entangling himself in its waves which seemed to have transubstantiated into blood as the lightning continued.
The sea swallowed him into its depth while I stood, watching and crying out his name in an attempt to save him, but it was of no use. My heart shattered once more, realizing that he's gone and all that is left is the air that I clutched in my hands.
Loud sobs escape from deep within me as my body trembles and tears stream down my cheeks. Two arms surround me, holding me together as I awake. "It's okay, Angela. It's gonna be okay," Jess chants, stroking my hair.
She rocks me back and forth until my tears cease and I pull away.
"Why did you do that?" I ask shakily.
"Why did I comfort you?" At my nod, she continues. "Because I've always wanted someone to do that for me when I've been scared yet nobody ever has."
I grimace. "I'm sorry."
She looks down and frowns. "What are you apologizing for?"
"For not having someone to be by your side, but most importantly, for how mean I have been to you. There's no excuse for what I've done."
Jess scoffs and shrugs. "It's okay, I guess. It's nothing compared to what other people have done to me."
"What other people? Your family?"
Silently, she stands from my bed and walks over to hers. "I don't want to talk about it," she says, slipping under her covers and turning her back to me. "Goodnight, Angela."
"Goodnight," I reply as I snuggle back in bed.
.
.
.
Hours have passed after our exchange, and while Jess fell asleep almost immediately, I have been awake, mulling over everything that happened.
While I did that, I came to a realization: I'm going to get help.
Most of the girls in my group have little to no support from their family or friends, and I do, but I'm being stubborn and keep refusing to accept their help. So, as I sit between Jessica and Bella in group therapy, I speak up for the first time when Makenna starts our session.
"I want to share my story," I say.
Everyone turns to look at me, their expressions showing shock and amazement, but it's Rosalie's remark that breaks the tension.
"Oh, my God, she speaks! The mute girl speaks!" she sneers.
I roll my eyes at her and retort, "I'm not mute, you jackass; I just didn't want to talk to you."
"What the fuck did you just say?" Rosalie asks, glaring at me.
"Girls, girls, watch your language, please," Makenna urges.
"Sorry, Makenna," I mutter. "It's just that she really gets on my nerves."
The girls snicker and Irina actually even smiles while Rosalie remains in her seat, enraged as she pierces me with her hateful gaze.
Makenna clears her throat and says, "Okay, so, what did you want to tell us, Angela?"
"The reason why I'm here," I say in an exhale. "I want to tell you what happened to me before I was admitted."
"Alright, go ahead," Makenna says.
Looking around the circle of girls, I nod. "My boyfriend left me, and when he did, I tried to kill myself," I begin. "I loved him so much... I still do, even though he's gone."
I go on to tell them how we met in the sixth grade after his family moved to Seattle and we became inseparable neighbors and best friends; how our relationship transitioned during our last year of junior high when we went to our commencement dance together. We danced all night on that occasion, and during the last song, we shared our first kiss.
I also tell them about how he was my first everything, but most importantly, how he was my everything.
And that's what nobody understands.
.
.
.
"What happened?" Makenna inquires, crossing her legs as she shifts her weight in her armchair.
We're in her office, during my personal therapy hour, and it's the first time that we've had the chance to discuss the changes that have taken place.
"What do you mean?" I ask in return.
She smiles cautiously before asking me, "What happened that made you participate in group therapy for the first time since your stay here?"
Nervous, I look down, contemplating how to answer that loaded question.
I had a nightmare and having Jess console me caused me to have an epiphany…
I realized that there's no point avoiding this—I need help…
I'm scared shitless that I'm going to go crazy if I don't deal with this despair…
There really is no other way to respond than with the truth, so I do so. "I had a nightmare the other night, and despite the fact that Jess and I haven't really become friends yet, she comforted me." I flip my hair, exhaling as I continue. "She didn't have to do it, you know? She could have just let me deal with it on my own, but she didn't, and when I asked her why she'd done it, she said that she wished someone would have done the same for her."
"Okay," Makenna nods, jotting down some notes in her legal pad. "You were comforted by her, and then what happened?"
"Well, she said that she'd always wanted someone who'd do that for her, and it got me thinking," I tell her. "My mom's always been very protective when it comes to our family; she'll try to avoid us any pain if she can. So, I have that—I have my mother's support, yet I'm turning my back on her. Well, my dad too; they both want what's the best for me and all I've been is inconsiderate and ungrateful."
"I'm pretty sure that they don't see you that way, Angela. They know that what you're going through is not easy."
"Do you talk to them often?" I ask, nervous to learn to the answer to that.
"As often as is necessary," she tells me. "Do you feel that you're ready to speak to them again—to tell them that your prospect has changed?"
"No, that's still too soon for me." Closing my eyes briefly, I shake my head. "I'm not ready to face my parents yet."
"That's okay," Makenna reassures me. "You can take all the time you need, alright?"
I nod, smiling gratefully.
"Now, tell me about this nightmare that you had," she prompts.
"I've had it before," I admit.
"Before you came to New Directions?" she asks with a pointed look.
"Yes."
"How often did you have it?" she asks, annotating something again. "Was it a recurring nightmare?"
I look down at my hands, fidgeting. "Sometimes."
"Tell me about what happens in this nightmare."
I proceed to tell her about it, describing everything in detail. She doesn't comment anything about it, only taking more notes as I do.
Finally, she looks up at me, and says, "There's one thing that I wanted to point out regarding something you said during our group session."
"Okay."
"You said that Ben left you, but he didn't leave you—he died."
"I know."
"So why did you say that?"
"Because it does feel like he left me," I explain. "It feels like a huge part of me is gone with him, too." I close my eyes as a tear slips down my cheek. "He promised that he'd never leave me."
"Nobody can control fate, Angela. Was it wrong of him to promise you that he'd never leave you? No, because he didn't know that he wasn't going to able to make good on that promise, but he also didn't break that promise willingly."
"I know," I say again. "But knowing that doesn't change how I feel."
=][=
"I think we should try something new," I tell Jess.
Looking up from her book, she gazes at me from above her reading glasses, raising her brow. "Something new?"
"Yeah." I nod. "Maybe we should go outside today."
"You mean the visiting area, right?"
"Mm-hmm," I assent. "We could hang out with the girls, and—"
"And what?" she scoffs. "Interrupt them while their family is visiting them?"
"Oh, please, Jess, like all the girls have visitors," I say exasperatedly. "Makenna said we could also go outside and hang out."
She mumbles something unintelligible under her breath, shaking her head as she rolls her eyes.
"Ugh," I groan. "You're such a pain in the ass, Jess. Let's go outside, soak up some sun, and have fun! Aren't you tired of being cooped up in here twenty-four/seven?"
And it's true—even though we've been spending more time with the other girls, we still have been staying together in our room for the majority of the time. That's where we are at the moment, actually, and I'm getting somewhat tired of doing the same thing over and over.
Things have obviously changed between us, so our banter has become more playful, too.
Jess returns her gaze to her book, muttering "no" unconvincingly.
Narrowing my eyes, I point a finger at her. "You're lying, liar-liar-pants-on-fire!"
"Did you seriously just call me a 'liar-liar-pants-on-fire'?" she laughs, looking up at me once again.
I shrug. "Maybe, but at least I made you laugh, right?"
"I'll give you credit for that," she says, smiling.
"So, what do you say, huh? Wanna go outside with me?" I bat my lashes dramatically. "Please? You can even take your book if you want."
"God, you're so annoying!" she cries.
"But you love me that way," I tell her.
"I must really love you if I'm even contemplating on going outside for the first time since I've been here," she mutters.
"Is that a yes?" I ask, hopeful.
"Yes, but if I don't like it, you can't make me stay there, alright?"
Nodding, I say, "Deal."
.
.
.
When we exit the bungalow and make our way to the clinic's patio, I take everything in. The patio actually looks like a park, to be honest, given that there are many trees surrounding the property. There's a designated area for families that'd like to have lunch with patients, and there are also benches around the garden for others who'd like to sit with friends or individually.
From our group, I can see Irina with her mother at the visiting area, but she looks truly uncomfortable. I can only presume that Irina's mother is scolding her about something because Irina seems completely uninterested in what's being said. She simply shrugs her off, rolling eyes as she remains silent.
Feeling as if I'm intruding, I look around the patio once again, searching for a bench where Jess and I can sit when I spot Bella sitting at a picnic bench with a couple of guys. One of them is muscular and dark-skinned; he has black, cropped hair and a radiant smile. The other is the complete opposite, and although he isn't as muscular, he is definitely fit. He has fair, alabaster skin and reddish brown hair that seems to be untamable from the disarray in which it is. What stands out the most about him to me are the black-rimmed glasses that he's wearing—they're almost identical to the ones Jess is wearing.
Bella looks over to us and waves us over, smiling. "Come sit with us, girls!"
"Are you sure?" Jess asks. "We don't want to intrude in your private conversation."
"Oh, you're not intruding at all," Bella says. "We were just talking about movies."
"Yeah," the dark-skinned boy says. "I was just telling Bella how Avatar was created only for commercial purposes."
Jess scoffs, "Uh, yeah." She rolls her eyes as she crosses her arms. "James Cameron totally knew he was gonna make bank with it. And don't forget about the award nominations—as if he did."
We all laugh as the other boy stands, offering his hand to Jess. "Hi, I'm Edward, nice to meet you."
Jess takes his hand, shaking it, as she says, "Nice to meet you, too; I'm Jess."
"Oh, my God," Bella exclaims, standing. "How rude of me! I completely forgot about introductions."
"It's okay." I shrug.
"No, it's not," her other friend says, shaking his head. He too stands, extending his hand to mine. "I'm Jake."
"I'm Angela, nice to meet you."
Jake grins at me as he says, "Nice to meet you, too."
We all sit then, and Jess resumes the conversation. "So, you spend your visitation time discussing movies? How interesting."
"Well, I'd rather discuss movies over books any day," Bella responds. "Edward here won't ever shut up about that topic."
"Oh, really?" Jess asks, raising her brow at him.
Edward just shrugs. "I'm an English major—of course I'm going to be passionate about books."
"You're an English major?" Jess asks, surprised. "What college are you going to?"
"U-Dub."
"I go there, too," Jess says. "Well, I'm taking a break now, but my plan is to return next semester."
"And you guys have never seen each other on campus?" Jake asks her.
"No, I definitely would have noticed him before," she replies.
"Well, maybe that's because Edward spends most of his time holed up in the library reading books," Bella says.
"Are you gay?" Jess inquires Edward as she looks at him.
"Jess," I hiss, warningly. "What's the matter with you?"
"There's nothing wrong with being gay," she amends, looking over at Bella. "In fact, I think both of you boys make a cute couple."
"That's nice to know," Jake says, "but no, he's not gay nor are we a couple."
"What would make you think that I like men?" Edward asks, narrowing his eyes at her.
"Have you seen yourself in a mirror?" Jess exclaims. "You have great skin, great hair, and you like to read books."
Edward blushes, pushing his glasses up. "Is there something wrong with that?"
"No," she scoffs. "You're just too perfect."
"Thanks?" he says puzzled.
"Oh, don't thank me just yet," Jess snickers. "I don't think you'll be doing that if we ever get in a heated debate over authors and writing techniques."
"I'll be looking forward to that," he says, smirking crookedly at her. "When you're done here, I'm gonna invite you over for coffee so we can have long debates about anything you want."
Jess blushes slightly, nodding at him as Bella and Jake smile at each other.
"So, how are you all related?" I ask, trying to take the attention away from Jess.
"Edward here is my brother," Bella informs us. "And Jake is my best friend."
"Oh," I say surprised.
"Her best friend that's not gay," he says, "just in case you're wondering."
"I'm not." I laugh. "Jess is the only one here that apparently has a problem with that," I say in a teasing tone.
"Hardy-har-har," she grumbles, rolling her eyes.
When Jess eventually turns to look at me, I flash her a grin. "I bet you're happy now that I convinced you to come outside, huh?"
=][=
"My parents think that by committing me here, I'm going to magically become heterosexual," Leah—a new patient—says. She's completely different to the other girls here, obviously, and it's not only in her looks, but also in her attitude. Leah is very easy to read since her face is an open book—and what a pretty face it is if you ask Bella.
When I saw Leah for the first time, her striking features made me feel a bit insecure, to be honest. She has dark skin just like Jake's, and her hair is also black; she's taller than most of us, so that paired with the confidence she exuberates, makes her a bit intimidating.
Right now, we're all in group therapy, and I guess this girl has no qualms about sharing details of her private life, because she's opened up a lot more than we usually do.
"I'm only going to stay here for a month—it's what I promised them," she continues, "and after that, I'm going to have to figure out what I'm going to do. Maybe then, they'll be a little more supportive, you know? I mean, being gay is neither a crime nor a sin."
"Definitely," Bella agrees wholeheartedly.
She'd obviously say that, of course. I can just imagine them in the future given that just now they're looking at each other intently, smiling coyly and fluttering their eyelashes like two blushing schoolgirls.
Makenna sighs, probably coming to the same conclusion as I have, and looks over at me. "Both of you girls are correct, but that's something that we'll discuss privately during your therapy hour, okay? Now, Angela, do you want to share anything with us today?"
Exhaling deeply, I close my eyes for a brief moment, finding the resolve I need to tell her about a new decision. "I think I'm ready to see my parents this weekend."
"Really?" Makenna inquires, smiling brightly. "That's excellent news."
"It's just what feels right." I shrug, giving her a small grin. "Besides, it's about time that I see them."
"I'm pretty sure that they'll be excited to hear about this," Makenna comments. "I'll call them tonight."
"Thanks," I say.
"That's a huge step, Ange," Charlotte mumbles. "I don't think I could do something that drastic so quickly."
It hasn't been quickly given that I've been here for a month, but I guess she thinks that since I've just started participating in group therapy this week. Making progress with my treatment is good, yet I don't want to rush it now that I've decided to take advantage of my time here. There is still so much that needs to be done before I'm even ready to go out into the world again.
Smiling once again, I turn to my right, facing her. "Don't belittle yourself, Char; you're one of the reasons why I've decided to give my treatment a chance," I say truthfully.
.
.
.
It's been almost a month since I last saw my parents, so as soon as I see them in Makenna's office, I run to them crying. My mom is the one that comes forward first, hugging me close to her and I reciprocate the embrace, holding onto her tightly.
"God, baby," she sniffles, "I missed you so much."
"Me, too, Mom," I admit. "And I'm so sorry… for everything."
Stepping back, she cups my face in her hands in looks into my eyes. "It's okay, really; I'm just glad that you're doing better, sweetie." She gives me a small kiss on my cheek and turns to look at my father who's been standing to the side, watching us.
I offer him a teary smile as I gaze at him. "Hi, Daddy," I whisper.
"Hey, Princess," he says, giving me a crooked smile.
Walking over to him, I give him a tight hug. A shudder rips through me as I finally allow my walls to come down, unleashing the flood of emotions that I'd tried to reign in during the past weeks. My father returns my embrace just as fiercely, placing a kiss on the top of my head. When we release each other, I step back and wipe my tears away, feeling abashed.
Makenna looks over at me, giving me a reassuring smile. "Are you ready to get started?"
I nod. "Yes."
My mother gives me a questioning look as she walks over to take my hand in hers. "What's going on, Angie? Is everything okay?"
"Don't worry, Mom," I say, trying to appease her. "Makenna is just asking if I'm ready to begin my session."
Realization dawns on her, yet my words don't seem to have achieved their desired effect. She shakes her head, closing her eyes briefly. "I'm sorry, but is there a reason why we need to have our reunion in your presence? Why this needs to be a 'session?'"
"This is just regular protocol, Diane," my father tells her. "It's in case—"
"In case of what, Michael?" my mom asks alarmed. Her eyes turn to mine, expressing the panic that's building up inside her. "Oh, my God, baby; did you have another breakdown?"
As those words slip past her lips, I realize what a mess I have done out of everything. It's because of my previous actions that she's freaking out as she is. I need to remedy this—to make things right with both of them—and it's also the reason why Makenna and I agreed it would be best if I were supervised while I reconvened with my parents. Lord knows that I need all the support I can get while I discuss my previous actions.
"No, mom," I tell her, tearing up as I do so. "Calm down, yeah? I just… I need her here, okay?"
My mother nods, sniffling as she wipes her tears.
All three of us take a seat then—each one at my side as I sit between them in Makenna's large couch. I then proceed to tell my parents about my plans to follow through with the program I need to complete before I'm discharged. I also apologize for putting all I've put them through, starting with my suicide attempt.
"I was so selfish," I tell them. "All I thought about was my pain, and by doing so, I completely ignored yours. I never took a second to contemplate how my actions were going to hurt you more than all the pain I could possibly endure."
My dad places a hand atop of mine as he looks at me. "I'm going to be honest with you, sweetheart; when you tried to take your life away, I felt that I had failed as a parent. Your mother and I—"
"No, please," I interject. "Don't blame yourselves for my mistakes. As I said before, I was only thinking about myself when I did that. I promise I won't ever do something like that again, okay? I'll never, ever make that awful mistake again."
"I hope so," my mother says shakily as tears gather in her eyes. "I don't know what I'd do without you, baby."
Hugging her, I sob. "Oh, Mom, I'm so sorry," I tell her once more. "Things will never be that way again, okay? I'm going to get the help I need in order to get better—I promise you I'll do everything I can to do so."
"That's all your father and I ever wanted," she tells me.
Makenna gives us a moment to ourselves and then informs my parents that I'll need to be in treatment for at least another month.
"But what about your birthday?" my mom inquires. "Will you still be here, then?"
Makenna is the one to answer. "It's highly probable that she will still be in treatment, but if you'd like Angela to go home with you for the day, we'll consider it an option when the time comes."
"Thank you," my dad tells her, "for everything."
I smile at Makenna and then look over to my father. "What about my graduation?" I ask him. "Did you speak to Principal Banner yet?"
My dad nods. "Yes, and he said it's alright if you don't want to assist the ceremony. You'll still get your diploma regardless seeing as you had completed the credits to do so."
Yeah, I definitely do not want to go to an event where everyone will look at me like a freak. I don't even belong with those people anymore either way, and it's not that I feel superior than them, it's just that I'm not the same person they knew before.
=][=
"Do you ever think about doing it again?" Jane asks me.
I turn to look at her, and ask, "Do what again?"
We're sitting on a bench in the patio, watching other girls with their families during visitation, and up until a moment ago, we'd both been quiet. It's surprisingly sunny, so the sun's warm rays feel good on my skin.
"Commit suicide," Jane says, catching me a bit off guard.
"No," I tell her resolutely. "Have you?"
She shakes her head. "No, not since I got here."
"Yeah, this place changes you a lot," I agree.
"What do you think will happen once we leave?"
Sighing, I answer her with the truth. "I don't know, but we can't go back to how we were—that's for sure."
"Yeah," she simply says.
And we're silent once again, observing the other the people around us as we usually do when Jane and I are together. We've become pretty close in the last couple of weeks given that we've gone through the same thing recently. I'm pretty sure that we've helped each other open up even more than we already were, and it's been an obvious and helpful transition. Hopefully when Jane leaves next week, we'll still be in touch.
As I briefly contemplate what my future holds, I'm approached by Jake.
"Hey," he says, smiling down at me. "Do you mind some company?"
Mirroring his smile, I say, "I don't mind if Jane doesn't."
Jane smiles at him, too. "I don't mind at all, but I'm actually going to go lay down for a bit. I'm feeling a bit tired."
"Do you want me to escort you to your room?" I ask worriedly.
"It's okay," she replies, shaking her head. "I'll be fine, really."
"Alright, but please don't hesitate to ask for my help if you need it."
"I won't," she says as she stands. "I'll see you later."
I grin at her. "Okay."
"So," Jake begins as he takes a seat next me. "What have you been up to?"
"Nothing much," I shrug. "Jane was keeping me company since Jess didn't want to leave our room."
"Rough day?" he inquires with a knowing tone.
"Yeah," I exhale. "She's been having trouble sleeping the last couple of days, so she's feeling all messed up right now. I tried to convince her to come out, but she just wouldn't budge."
"Sometimes what they need is space," he tells me. "Bella was like that. And I don't mean to imply that you're smothering her with attention, just so you know."
I nod. "I do, and you're right; that's exactly what Jess needs."
Sighing, he turns to look at me. "You're a good friend, Ange. You should know that."
Blushing, I gaze down at my hands. "You are, too. Otherwise, you wouldn't bother coming to visit her here."
"Yeah, well, she's been there for me when I needed her, too, so it's only fair that I reciprocate," he says, shrugging. "Besides, that's what friends are for, right?"
"Right," I agree. "So, how was your visit today?"
"As good as it can be expected given that she's a bit nervous about leaving soon."
Frowning, I say, "I didn't know that."
"Well, I don't think she's exactly told anyone yet," he confesses. "She's unsure about whether or not she'll actually leave, so she doesn't want people to know in case it doesn't happen."
"She's stalling," I say disappointedly.
"She is," Jake agrees, "but hopefully with this new girl that she's met here, she'll find some motivation to keep going upward."
I smile, thinking about her and Leah. "If they continue seeing each other, Bella will definitely continue with her treatment."
"It's that serious, huh?" he asks.
"You have no idea. Just this week they got caught making out in Leah's room." I smile remembering that fiasco. "Makenna wasn't too happy about that."
"Yeah, I bet," he laughs.
After a beat of silence, I tell him, "I'm going to miss you, you know."
He frowns as he turns to looks at me. "When?"
"When Bella leaves."
Jake just flashes me one of his radiant smiles. "Who says I won't come back to visit you?"
=][=
This week hasn't been good. First, Jess had a manic breakdown, and yesterday, we lost Irina. Nobody saw it coming since she was apparently eating all her meals, but somehow, she cheated the system and lost the battle with bulimia. Irina passed away in her sleep due to cardiac dysrhythmia; she was found by one of the aides who checked up on her when she didn't show up for breakfast.
Most of the girls are pretty shaken up about it, but I think I'm the only one that is angry about the situation. I never expected to be this affected by her death since we weren't especially close, and that's what we're discussing with Makenna during my session right now.
"It's okay to be mad, but you have to channel it." Makenna tells me. "You're only hurting yourself if you allow it to take over you."
"How can I channel it?" I snap. "I can't bottle it up, give it to someone, and say, 'Here, you take my anger because it's too much of a burden for me.'"
Makenna remains calm as always, as she tells me, "Of course not, but you can write about it. You haven't done that in a long time."
"In my journal?" I look at her, puzzled. "I still write in it."
"Yeah, but you haven't used it to vent as you did when you were first admitted—you do that in group therapy now."
As I recall the words that I used to write in it, I begin to cry. My journals were the only thing that kept me sane when everything around me was crumbling. I remember spending hours in my room, writing as Jess would read the same book over and over again. Makenna didn't press me for much, allowing me to do things at my own pace, and that greatly helped.
I also remember that I had once thought I wouldn't express much in them, but I had been wrong. I poured my anguish in every word that I wrote—in every page. I confessed how much it hurt to be alive when Ben died in a car accident that we were both in.
"This is so fucking unfair, Makenna," I sob, referring to both my situation and Irina's.
In an uncharacteristic move, Makenna sits next to me, holding me in a tight embrace. "It's okay, Angela. It's going to be okay."
"I didn't want them to die," I say between hiccups. "All I wanted was the best for them and they both died."
"Ben and Irina?" she inquires, knowingly.
"Yeah," I sniffle. "Ben had so much potential, Makenna. We had just been accepted at Julliard. And Irina? She was on her way to being a prima ballerina."
"I know, but as I've told you before, nobody can control fate, Ange."
I remain silent, allowing her to comfort me as if I were a child, yet I'm not embarrassed because it's exactly what I need.
"Have you ever heard about the Serenity Prayer?" Makenna asks, as she breaks the silence.
"I think have."
"Well, it goes like this," she begins, "'God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.' I think it's time that you memorize it."
"Was I supposed to learn it before?"
"Yes, a long time ago," she chuckles lightly, releasing me from her embrace as she looks at me. "But you weren't ready then. As it is now, you're just at the beginning of a full recovery, and I can't tell you how proud I am of how far you've come."
"Thanks," I mumble, looking down at my lap while I wipe my tears.
"You don't have anything to thank me for, Angela. I know that this is my job, but it's something that I'm happy to do. Now," she says, standing up, "let's get you a new journal."
=][=
The following weeks pass by quickly, and I'm soon at the end of my treatment. Many things have happened during these past weeks—some are good while others are not.
One of the good things has been the new relationship that I've developed with Jake. He made good on his word when he said that he'd be returning to the center even after Bella left, coming to visit me almost every weekend. He's been here alone sometimes, but he's usually accompanied by Edward—who also spends time with Jess.
Those two think that they're fooling everyone, but they're only fooling themselves. Yeah, their mutual attraction is so obvious that even Makenna teased Jess about it once. Edward and Jess keep to themselves most of the time when he comes to visit her, but once in awhile they'll hang out with Leah and us.
Bella comes to visit her as well, and right now, they're steadier than ever, already planning to move in together when Leah is discharged. We all presumed that Leah would be leaving the clinic quickly, but it turns out that she had lots of things to work through, and Makenna hasn't given her the green light to do so yet.
What's one of the bad things that happened? Rosalie's meltdown—it's probably the worst thing to happen besides Lauren's relapse. Yeah, Lauren had finally completed her required treatment and left the clinic, only to be back in a couple of weeks. Things with her have been so bad that Makenna didn't allow her to return to our bungalow, choosing instead to send her to a correctional reception center. Meanwhile, Rosalie was admitted to a mental health institute after she attacked one of the male aides at the clinic. It was decided then that she wasn't apt to continue staying with us, so they referred her there.
Focusing on the positive, though, Jess and I will also be moving in together. We've already discussed that we'll be both be attending U-Dub in the fall, so my parents are going to pitch in with the rent for a small apartment. They both want us to focus on our studies, so they don't want us to work while we go to school.
As for Jess's parents, they're a whole other matter. They still haven't been here to visit to visit her even once. Yet it doesn't matter, for Jess has decided that they'll no longer be a part of her life. I never would have imagined that she'd take that decision, but I am proud of her for standing up for herself.
These are the changes that we've made while being here, and they're changes that we never knew would happen so soon. Because when you think about time, you usually think about it in large expanses. During that expanse, change is most likely to take place, yet when it happens in less time, it is absolutely unforeseen.
If someone would have told me three months ago that I would be leaving New Horizons with a new outlook on life, a new best friend—and possibly a new boyfriend—I would never have believed them.
But that is what's going to happen.
Jess and I have become great friends, and we're going to start a new life—one that's free of self-inflicted anguish.
Now I know that I was wrong when I thought that Makenna had no idea what she was doing when I was admitted at the clinic. I completely underestimated her then, because, somehow, she was aware that the bond created between Jess and I was exactly what we both needed. Spending our time together had its effect; we confided our biggest fears to each other, and helped overcome them along with Makenna's help.
The other girls at the center helped in their own way, too. They showed me that it's okay to be a little broken, and that there is no right or wrong way to do things, but the most important they thought me is that we have to love ourselves above anything and anyone else.
I came in here hopeless, thinking that there was nothing that could help me, but I was truly wrong.
I came in here and found love—true love.