Chapter 4

~ Two hours earlier. ~

"I WON'T GO THERE!"

Billy took a step back from the two men that approached him.

"Billy", his father began in a calming voice. "This is only to your advantage. We cannot help you, but they-"

"YOU CANNOT FORCE ME!" his son yelled at him.

It had been a real rude awakening for him this morning. At first he had considered the strange voices talking to him and somebody dragging him towards the door to be part of the weird dreams he had but then had to realize that they belonged to reality. Still drowsy from the drugs he had been unknowingly given a few hours ago he had seen two strange men standing beside him. The sudden surge of adrenalin panic had given him, had nearly thrown him out of the bed and he had put up a fierce resistance to them. At the moment they were down in the kitchen, Billy with his back to the sink, each of the men, who he had meanwhile identified as two strong male nurses, cutting off a possible escape route either to the kitchen- or the backdoor. He eyed them suspiciously but momentarily they didn't diminish the distance between him and them. Maybe it was because of the object he held in his right hand. A big butcher's knife.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see his father taking a step towards him. "Freeze!" he said warningly, nervously playing with the knife.

"You are not going to hurt me with this." His father's voice sounded calm and self-assured, but Billy knew him long enough to hear the slight uncertainty. "Billy, we don't do this to punish you for something – we feel helpless. We don't know what to do anymore. You-"

"What is it? I – I haven't done anything wrong! At least nothing that would justify this!" He was aware of the fact that the weapon wasn't the best way to underline this, but he had no chance. He wouldn't go where these guys wanted to take him to.

"Your behaviour only helps to make your position worse", a female voice said. A voice that made him livid. It belonged to Dr Cole; by trade his psychiatrist since the great crash. She was the one that had persuaded his parents that he needed help. Help. Her misinterpretation of it consisted of trying to 'cure' him with thousands of pills – not sufficient for an overdose but still enough to make him feel so tired he couldn't even get dressed himself. The moment he had seen her entering the kitchen had been the moment he had grabbed the knife. The moment she had seen him doing so had been the one she hid behind one of the musclemen, seeking protection.

"Billy", his mother began, wiping the tears from her face. "Maybe we should-"

A glimmer of hope appeared on his face. "Mom, I promise I'll do anything, anything you and Dad want me to. I – I won't sneak out of the house again, I will s- sleep every night, I – the nightmares …. I'm sure they will stop if – Mom, anything. I swear I'll be a good boy! I won't-"

"I'm afraid that promises are not the solution", Dr Cole interrupted him.

Mrs Hitchcock glared at her. "This is still my son, Mrs Cole and I don't allow you to-"

"It was you who called me up at seven o'clock this morning if I may remind you. You who pleaded me to come for help. And if I take a look at his wrists I just came in time."

"I swear that I haven't a clue where this comes from", Billy defended himself. "Suddenly they were just there. Mom, Dad, you gotta believe me-"

His parents exchanged glances and for a small moment he thought that they might believe him and throw the psychiatrist and her two bulldogs out of the house.

"See Billy", his mother said but her voice gave away so his father continued.

"We really don't want to do anything bad to you. But we are so afraid something could happen to you. You cannot imagine how shocked we were when we found you with your slashed wrists this morning. We just wanted to see if you were alright after you - how we had thought - had taken the medicine last night. But then we had to see that you obviously not only had pretended to sleep and sneaked out of the house again, but had also …. See, we don't think you are doing these things on purpose just to annoy us or for some teenage rebellion or stuff – but we are also of the opinion that this is the best way to help you. It's only three days, Billy, three little days and I guess that's worth it to find out what's up with our son."

Of course Billy understood what he put his parents through but a quick look at the psychiatrist told him that she considered it to be just that – irritating teenage rebellion, nothing more, nothing less. And as for her she was going to do her work. Like an exorcist.

A tear ran down Billy's face and he angrily wiped it away. "You don't understand this." He tried to make his voice sound firm but couldn't avoid that it shivered. "It's not that easy-"

"It's not easy for us either, Billy", his father replied and took another step towards him.

"Dad, I dunno what you expect but it's not like I spend three days in there and suddenly everything will be alright."

"You are absolutely right; I guess three days won't even be enough."

Giving the two male nurses a sign, Dr Cole took something out of her pockets. They approached him again and instinctively he grabbed the knife tighter.

"I know that we agreed not to use this but I think it's the only way."

Billy's eyes widened in shock as he realized what it was the psychiatrist now held in her hands. She stitched the needle of the syringe into a phial, filled with a transparent liquid. He didn't have to read the label first to know what it was. It gave a little 'plop' before she started to fill the syringe. Billy shook his head. "No. NO!"

The odds to get out of this without the injection were a hundred to one if he didn't drop the knife instantly, he knew that. But going to the loony bin wasn't a real alternative. Within a second he made up his mind and raised his hands in a gesture of defence. He looked at his parents. "72 hours? 72 hours and you will come and get me out?"

His father nodded.

"Promise it to me", he insisted. "Both of you."

As his parents had done so he slowly put the knife down on the table behind him gazing at the psychiatrist who was still holding the syringe but put it back into her pocket when she noticed the glare of his father.

"Whatever you say", she grumbled, obviously not entirely satisfied.

With a more than uneasy feeling Billy said goodbye to his parents and followed them outside to the car. Only seconds later he sat in the back beside one of the bodybuilders and watched his Mom and Dad become smaller each minute the distance between them grew as the car drove away.