Chapter 26: Date Night

I can't believe I'm going out on a date with Jackson. I'm ready for one, but I wasn't expecting myself to say yes after he asked me out again since I said no during the first round. However, I'm not ready to be his girlfriend. Not yet, though. You can't expect me to say yes to be his girlfriend. I'm not used to having a relationship with a boy. It's all new to me.

Let me just say that I'm...slow when it comes to these things. It's how I am. I can't say I blame myself until now.

I should've stayed in school. I can ask Stine to enroll me into real school instead of doing it online. I'm sure he'll won't mind it. He may look scary, but he's really nice, even though I thought that he was an abusive father towards Hannah... But it turns out I was wrong. He just lost control over the argument that he and his daughter had.

I was expecting to see marks and bruises all over her. Manely bruises in the shape of a wooden spoon... or from the leather strap that Jeff used on me.

I remembered what his weapon looked like at the top of my head. It was black, leathery, and he always holds the two ends with one hand, right or left, having it fold in half for him to able to...hit me with it.

I can remember the stinging pain every time he used it on me when I was really little. It hurts each time he does it, and when I'll scream in pain, he'll hit me even harder until he was done. He wouldn't say anything. He'll only give me a hateful look from his eyes that would trap mine...staring at me when he'll leave out of my sight with Travis watching the whole thing with the cruel smirk on his face.

Of course, when I'm in the way of Kelly, she would scream at me, scaring me up to my room where I'll spend all my days in... and my god brother getting his dad to beat me whenever he had the chance...

He likes it when he sees me getting tortured everyday. There had been times where Jeff would hit me during the night time!

I don't know why those people hated me. What did I do? I have never done anything to them. All I did was came into the family… all I wanted was love from them like my real parents would do. My real mom would never scream at me and my real dad would never smack me in anyway, so...why my god parents and my god brother? What made them hate me? The questions rolled around like a rolling stone inside my head.

A lot of the times, I'll do my damn best to stay away from them. However, it'll just be a big flop. Kelly would keep yelling and screaming with anger… Travis would tell crushel fibs to Jeff... and Jeff would just...finish the job...

Why? Just why do they dislike me!? What have I done to deserve to be treated...that way? It's... I can't even think about that word. It's awful and a lot of kids have been through it.

I'm lucky that I didn't get killed at that stupid house that they lived in and they still live at that house to this day. I just know it.

Good thing I never came back to that disgusting place because I'll never in my life would ever return myself to those...cruel people on earth.

They don't even care anyway... Don't care for me at all... They...forgot about me. I bet they don't even remember me...

I rested my right cheek on my hand, staring at the night sky as Jackson drove us to the restaurant, my stomach rumbling. My mind went over with food, pushing the bad memories from my childhood out of my brain.

Will I keep remembering the awful past? Probably. At least I don't have anymore flashbacks... I don't want to remember the bad times. I need to fill my soul with good things...like my first date with this boy. I'm not sure if it'll raise my spirits. Maybe a little, and that's fine with me.

"What's the restaurant called?" I broke the silence and asked.

"It's a seafood restaurant," Jackson answered, stopping at a red light, waiting for it to turn green. "Have you had fish before?" he said.

I thought about it, but I can't remember the last time I had fish. "I wish I can recall it..." I replied truthfully. "I bet I never had fish in my life, and I have never been to a seafood restaurant in my life, too," I added. "What do they have anyway?" I asked in full curiosity.

"All kinds of seafood. You should get troute." The light turned green, having him continue driving. "Troute is the best fish ever to eat," he smiled. "It's one of my favorites, too." His smile was placed with a frown when he glanced at me with the corner of his eye. "You don't have any allergies to seafood...right?"

"Huh? What?" I responded quickly. "No, I don't," I told him. "I don't have any kind of food allergy," I clarified. "Why'd you asked?" I questioned, looking at him.

He shrugged. "I was just wondering, that's all," he simply spoke, the worry leaving his face.

"You don't have to worry, Jackson," I assured him the best as I could. "I don't have allergies to anything. Not even food." I looked out the car window, seeing some clouds, one of them going over the moon. "We have to remember to get back at mental hospital around eight sharp," I reminded him.

"I'll check my phone and we can leave the restaurant around seven or seven-thirty," he clearly noted. "We have plenty of time, too," he gestured at the radio clock, reading five fifteen. "I'm in the mood for crab legs," he beamed with excitement. "What about you?"

I faced away from the window. "Hm?"

"What about you?" he repeated. "What are you in the mood for?"

"...Food." Yeah... I didn't care what I ate. Seafood is food and food is good. "I'll just get a simple troute," I decided, knowing what to order before we got there. "Do you even know where the place is at?" I was almost worried that we'll end up getting lost.

"I've been there before, Hazel," he said, helping my concern. "I know my way around this state, too," he smiled.

"Oh, okay, good." My direction was now back out the window. "Good." I sighed, resting my eyes, closing them. I didn't fall asleep, all I did was...relaxed. "What happens if you go home before me?" I suddenly brought up out of nowhere. "What should I do then?" The worry came back to me.

"Well..." He began to think as he made a turn after letting a car past him. "If I do leave before you... don't worry about it," he advised. "Not only that, you'll get a new roommate," he brighted out. "I get new roommates all the time, and it's cool having new friends."

"I guess that's cool…" Not really. I can barely say anything to a new person. "When I do get a new roommate, will that person not like me?" I saw his face filled with shock. "It's something that I go through," I explained the reason on why I asked that. "I don't trust new people unless I get to know them such as you...Hannah… Champ...Zach...Stine... and everybody else that I met before and after the monster attack in Madison," I listed off their names. "Those are the ones, including you and the people who work at the mental hospital, that I can only trust. With the rest of the people in this world, I cannot trust them. You can't trust everyone, Jackson," I told him seriously. "There are people that are complete jerks out there."

"Yeah, I can agree with you there... but not everybody is bad," he pointed out, bringing up a good topic. "You can't say that every single person is cruel unless they are."

"Like my god family?" I put in.

"Like your god family," he nodded. "Have called the police on them?" he asked me.

"...no..." I shook my head. "I'll get in trouble for doing that anyway..." I rubbed my arms, the memories flooding back to me. "I never told anyone about my past life… I always kept it to myself in fear of being...rejected. The first person I ever told was Hannah. At first I didn't want to, but she insisted that I tell her so... I did." I began to tear up. "I can never know why my god family hated me... Like, what did I ever do to them? Why do they dislike me? All I wanted are..." I sighed. "...answers."

"What happens, you know, when you end up seeing them?"

I gritted my teeth, clenching them tightly where they're now starting to get sore, having me to release the grip from them. "I do not want to see them..." I seized, curling my fingers into fists. "I will never see those jerks in my whole entire life!"

"But... what happens if you do...?" Jackson hesitantly continued to ask.

"It'll never happen," I disbelieve, uncurling my fists, relaxing my fingers. "I ran away from that home, and I'm-" I stopped, not knowing how to finish the last part.

"Glad?" he helped out.

"I would be glad..." I looked down. "...only I can't... I can't ever put a...grin on my face..."

"Don't worry." He gave me a gentle nudge with his elbow with an assurance. "You'll be happy. It takes time for it to return. It took me awhile to smile," he told me with great attitude.

With that feeling coming off from him, it didn't bounce over to me. "Yeah," I somewhat replied, glancing at the window for like the third or fourth time. "You're right. It just takes time..." I spoke with...some hope. I didn't want to be really hopeful about it. Although I took my new medication, it'll take about a week or two for them to start working.

I put my hand on the side of my head, my elbow resting on the car door. My head being emptied out while I did my best to think of good things before the bad things that ever happened to me.

There's been a few tries where I tried to put on a smile when I forced myself to live by myself when I was five years old. Really. I tried. But the beatings and the yelling and teasing got in my way to where I...gave up. Like that.

When someone will tell a joke, the other person laughs. For me, I don't. I hadn't laughed in years after my real parents died in that car crash. Nobody will laugh with me, just at me. A lot of my classmates would make fun of me, calling me names.

At home, Travis would make sure my life is miserable. He wanted to make sure that I won't have a great time living with him and his parents. Hey, just because I'm not their biological daughter and sister, doesn't mean they can treat me differently.

The things they did to me wasn't punishment. It's abuse. Like, who comes into a child's room, drags them out of their bed, and hits them repeatedly? It never teaches a child anything. The thing I learned from those people that I had lived with is to stay away from them as possible.

But they always made sure to take advantage of me in someway. They never left me alone. Ever. They do whatever they wanted to do to me.

I hate my life. I hate the way I am. It's their damn fault for making me this way. They could've let me live with a foster family or let me live with the other people who are part of my family. They don't have to have me live with them.

Except, I wasn't old enough then to make my own choices. I had to wait to make my own choice. The only choice I made was to run away from the dreaded place.

Now that I'm a teenager, I can make any choice I want unless I have permission. I can ask Stine to let me go to the movies by myself. Only I don't have a car. Neither does Hannah. We can ask him to let us go to driving classes...

"I'm hungry," I mentioned, my stomach now getting on my nerves from all the rumbling inside.

That made Jackson chuckle. "We're here," he announced. I looked up to see a decent looking restaurant. It wasn't your fancy type of food place that some of you would like to go to. This, however, is more simple. Not too small and not too big, either. "Come on." He parked the car on to of the parking sections right close to the building. "You're going to love it," he promised me, taking off his seatbelt. He went to do mine when I stopped him.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I can do it myself." Taking off my own seatbelt, I pushed the car door open, making sure I don't hit the other car that is right next to me. Getting out, I shut the car door in the process. "Better hurry before I starve to death," I bluntly stated.

All Jackson did was gave me a friendly smirk. "You're not going to starve to death."

The vibe he gave off had me change my attitude. I kept my dull look, but my annoyed expression faded away.

Better be like this instead of ruining this 'special night'.

"Let's go." I began walking to the door, wanting to get food in me. But he got to the door first before I could.

He opened the door, stepping to the side. I didn't move, standing there with confusion. I mean, I could've grab the door myself. I know that he likes me and I like him back, and I can do things myself. I taught myself how to survive on my own at a very young age.

He seemed to sense my feelings, moving his hand forward, directly towards the inside of the restaurant. "You go first," he politely let in.

"Oh... Um..." I walked in the building. "Thanks," I accepted with a simple nod. He came in after me, letting the door go. I sniffed. "It smells like...fish," I mentioned, almost not liking the scent.

"What do you expect for this place to smell like? Chicken?" he joked amusingly. I didn't laugh, the frown maintaining my face. "Okay, well, let's wait till we get seated," he changed the subject, breaking the short silence between us.

It didn't take long when we got a seat. A booth right next to the window.

"The waiter will come and take your order," the guy told us, handing out our menus. When he left, I opened mine up.

It seems like since I've been surviving on my own, I suddenly realized that I never read a menu before. I never looked at one in my whole life.

"What are you going to have? Troute?" Jackson spoke.

"H...Huh?" I set my menu on the table, leaving it open. "Um..." I replied. "I have no idea what I want now... I never looked at a menu before," I explained with bashfulness, my face turning pink on the cheeks.

"You never looked at a menu before?" I nodded my head. "It's not that hard, all you have to do is choose what you want," he expressed. "You don't have to be embarrassed about it. I sometimes have trouble deciding what I want. It's not a big deal," he assured me. "You can tell the waiter that you don't know what to order and he or she will let you take your time."

"At least that helps." I picked up my menu. "We can get drinks first."

"Great idea," he seemed to agree with me. "What types of drink are you going to get? They have a lot of options." He flipped his menu over to where it shows the drinks. "They have root beer, coke, mountain dew..."

"I'll take water," I preferred.

"Water? You don't want any soda? They serve hot chocolate here."

I shook my head. "Water's fine. I'm not a big fan of hot chocolate anyway." Looking at the menu, the words seem to swim in front of me. "So many choices..." I murmured, having trouble what I wanted to eat, my stomach growing impatient by the second.

That's when the waitress came up to our table. She wore a uniform and her hair was blonde, tied up in a bun that's in a tight braid. She took out her notepad, clicking her pen that is the color of red.

"Is there anything you like to drink?" she asked.

We both told her what drinks we want. She left and a second later she came back, handing out the drinks with straws to us. After that, she let us look through our menus for time.

"Why can't we go to Mcdonald's or Wendy's?" I whispered under my breath. "I'm used to those restaurants. The same goes the buffet restaurants. That way I know what to pick." It felt like I was talking to myself because Jackson didn't cut in.

What a polite boy.

"Have you decided what to order?"

I dropped my menu, having land on the table top. I slammed my fists on the table, having my full cup of water wobble, almost tipping over. Jackson grabbed the cup right on time, and some water made a puddle next to it, the napkin getting soaking wet.

"I don't know what I want to eat!" I shouted out in full depervasion, causing our table to have looks from other people.

"Hazel." Jackson freed my cup. "What have I told you?" he said. "Tell her you need more time." He pointed at the waiter who wore a shocked look on her face. "You don't need to yell," he told me.

"Sorry..." I hung my head and apologized. "Can I have more time, please?" I didn't look at the waiter. I didn't want her to see her face, knowing that she's now angry when I yelled out at her like some kind of bad person.

"Of course." Now I was looking at her, unexpected to see a bright grin plastered on her face. "Don't worry, I'll give you more time," she smiled politely. "Call me when you're ready."

Leaving me and Jackson alone, I began to sink in my chair. The people continued to stare at us, not breaking the eyes off of us.

It felt like a long time, but soon they went back to eating, going back to their own types of conversations.

All I did was sat there, my face all burned up, and mumbled something for Jackson to hear. "Can we leave?"

"Why?" He put down his own menu with a questioning look. "We just got here like five minutes ago," he frowned.

I teared up. "I know..." Getting up from the table, I was about to walk away when he grabbed me by the shoulder. "What?"

"It was only one shout. No one is mad at ya," he reassured me. "Besides, we have to be back around eight. It's five thirty," he pointed to a clock on the wall.

Seeing that he was right, I sat back down. I didn't talk. All I did was sip my water, feeling how cold it is down my throat.

"Make sure not to drink too much," he chuckled. "Or else you'll be too full of water." He took a couple of sips of his coke.

I didn't answer as I went through the menu for the sixth time. "I'll get a simple trout with steam carrots and mashed potatoes." I closed up my menu. "You can call the waiter over. I don't want to shout again," I avoided.

"No problem." He turned his head. "Waiter, we're ready now," he called out in a normal voice.

She came up to us, notepad and pen ready at hand. "Okay, what would you two like?" She clicked her pen.

"I'll have crab legs with a side of salad. Nothing on the salad," Jackson casually ordered.

"And I'll have trout with steamed carrots and mashed potatoes," I added, making sure that she heard me.

"Alright, I'll be right back. You're order will be here in twenty minutes," she told us, taking away our menus.

"Thanks." I didn't look at her, but she seemed to take it well. She left our table with us waiting patiently for our food to arrive. Well, Jackson is. Not me. I don't like waiting for long periods of time. I get very fidgety when it comes to this stuff. It's like waiting for a package to arrive at your house. "They better bring the food here before twenty minutes," I stated. "I don't like waiting for that many minutes."

"It's for twenty minutes. Give them time to cook our food. We don't want to go back with a stomach virus, do you?" he said, playing with the wrapper from his own straw, making small crumpling sounds. "I rather eat my food when it's all cooked up." He let the straw wrapper fall threw his fingers. "Except for my salad, of course," he heartily chuckled.

I didn't respond back. Guess I'm too hungry to say anything else to add into the conversation. I'm starting to feel like this 'date' is a complete flop. I should be talking, saying things. But I guess I don't have lots to say this evening.

Ugh. Why did I agree this time to go out with him? This isn't going to make me happy. I cannot wait twenty minutes for our food to get to our table. All I can do is give my stomach water to keep it satisfied. I don't care about how much I'm gonna eat. I'm used to eating less and not big dinners unless I'm really hungry for it.

I'm not saying that I don't like our date. I just don't like waiting for a long time. The next time he asks me out, we'll go to a fast food or buffet restaurant. Nothing fancy whatsoever.

Our food came by like in twenty minutes, just like our waiter promised.

I picked up my fork and began eating. The trout cuts up nicely, so it looks like I don't need to use a knife for it. The steamed carrot and mashed potatoes are good, too.

After we finished, Jackson paid. I had no idea how he has money in his pockets, but he did. Paying for our meal, he told me to go to his car.

"I'll be there. Go on ahead and wait for me," he encouraged, giving me a little push towards the same doors that we use to come into this building.

I nodded, heading right outside the restaurant, making my way to his car.

By the time I got to his car, I got in the passenger seat right after I opened the door. Closing the door, I made sure it was shut tight before placing my seatbelt on. I would check the time, except the car is off. Jackson didn't check the phone while we ate, so I have no idea what time it is.

While I waited, I tried to find different shapes from the stars. I didn't find any because of the night time clouds hovering over the ground.

"I'm back." My attention was distracted when Jackson came back. "I got us cookies," he proudly smiled, holding up a bag.

"Cookies...?" I wasn't in the mood for cookies. "Why did you got cookies?" I questioned.

He shrugged. "For dessert," was all he can answer with. "Do you like sugar cookies?" he asked, setting the bag between us.

"I don't like cookies," I honestly shared. "I'm not much of dessert fan of any kind. I don't even like candy very much." I got a strange look from his eyes. "Why are you staring at me like that?" I asked, feeling very uncomfortable. "Can you please stop looking at me like that?" I wanted to be free from his new gaze. "All I said is that I'm not a big fan of desserts and that I don't eat candy that much."

"So..." he started speaking. "...you don't want a cookie?" He took one out, offering it to me.

"Later," I quickly told him. I didn't want to be bothered by some type of cookie. "I'm full right now. I might eat it tomorrow."

"No problem," he took in. He dropped it back into the bag. "I'm full, too." Starting up the car, he drove us back to the mental hospital. Although it should be called something else... I don't like the word 'mental'. It sounds mean. But what can I do about it? I can't ask them to change the name.

"Did that date made you less sad?" Jackson spoke, cutting off the silence.

I shrugged. "I'm not sure..." I barely answered, resting my head against the seat. "I don't think it worked." I sighed. "You did your best, though. I thought it'll help get me to smile again..." I flicked my hair. "...only it didn't," I finished.

"You'll smile someday. You need to have patients. The new treatment will kick in no time. Sometimes people who take the new treatment and they'll start being happy right before it kicks in," he told me, getting onto the bright side.

"Yeah..." I glanced at the front window. "You're right. I will be happy again someday..." I blew a strand of hair out of my face. "It'll take time...but I don't know when it's gonna happen."

We returned back to the building just in time. We came back within two minutes before eight, which I wasn't expecting. I was expecting us to be late, preparing for us to get shouted at. Turns out I was wrong.

We entered the building. Nobody was here, indicating that all the patients and employees are asleep. I closed the door as quietly as I could.

It made no choice. I good sign. I don't want to wake anyone up from their slumber.

"Come on," Jackson said in a low whisper, leading me back to our room, being very quiet, almost tip-toeing. "Good thing we came back on time," he said by the time we got to our room. He grabbed the door of our room, letting me enter first. "I'm going to bed," he yawned. "Normally I'll sleep around nine or ten-ish, but I'm going straight to bed." He set the bag of cookies onto the dresser. "See you in the morning, Hazel."

"See you in the morning," I returned softly, going through my books, picking up one of them. I'll read until it's time for me to take my night pills to help me sleep, I decided. I have plenty of time to read, anyway.

Going over to my bed, I plopped onto the mattress, almost knocking the stuff bear over onto the floor. I caught it in the nick of time with my free hand, setting it on the other side to me close to the wall.

I went to the first chapter of The Cuckoo Clock Of Doom. Hm. This book reminded of that clock in Stine's creepy basement... I wonder if the clock works the same as this book, letting people travel back in time.

If it did, I'll go and change my life back when I was a small child. However, that's impossible. You can't change the past. You can't change anything to make things right.

It's also hard for me to leave the bad past behind me.

While I read my book, I couldn't concentrate on it. The question Jackson gave me about my god parents, about what would happen when I run into them... I don't know. It's the only answer I can come up with

I would never ever see those people again. I don't want them to start... Sigh. I don't want them to start torturing me like they had before…

Getting through half of the book, I checked the clock. I wasn't surprised when it read nine sharp. I set my book down, making a note to myself to where I left off.

I took my night time pills, and laid back down on the bed, facing the stuffed bear who looked back at me with its beady, black eyes.

When sleep came to me, I closed my eyes, wanting to have good dreams instead of the strange and real dream I had before.

The dream of Travis sent shivers down my spine. He scares me, he really does. I'm not afraid of his irritating smirk. I'm afraid of his appearance. What frightens me the most is that the dream felt...too real... Too...predictable.

Am I psychic? I wondered in thought. I shook that away. No, I'm not. Only...how does that explain when I sensed that evil dummy months ago in Stine's study room?

It's more like a mystery to me. A simple mystery that cannot be explained until later on in my life.