During the ride home, my fingers stay laced together and my hands rest in my lap. I didn't talk much because he didn't speak to me. The only sounds that were present were the windshield wipers and the popping of gum in dad's mouth.

Reaching over, I turn the radio on where Jewel's You Were Meant For Me blares and for some reason I thought of Rachel then. My hand drifts over my blackened eye and though it hurt I hoped it wouldn't go away.

Did that mean I missed her? Maybe I missed everyone even Steve- midnight one-way chats and all.

Gulping, I quickly change the station and then cross my arms against my chest.

The Cure's Pictures Of You plays and it only makes me feel worse because I didn't really miss her, did I?

I guess I missed them in theory. Mixed feelings were a weird thing.

Since entering Shadow Brooke I've been on Suicide Watch five times, read fifteen books and witnessed twelve different people wig out. I wouldn't miss Kiley's endless sobs and ear-piercing cries at night which were often my own. I wouldn't miss Steve's habit of chewing on his own flesh and I wouldn't miss Rachel's "love taps"

Sighing, I turn the volume down all the way and then sink back into my seat. I could feel dad's watchful eyes on me so I put a smile on my face and lie to him cheerfully,

"I can't wait to see everyone"

"We're almost home." Replied dad with sparkling eyes.

"Great"

Home... What a fucking joke.

Okay, so I was kind of really bitter. Bitter about them sending me and now bitter about them reclaiming me. I didn't have to go in the first place. Not there, anyway. I wasn't crazy.

It's less then fifteen minutes away from "home" when the sun comes out. Rolling down the window, I let my hand feel the cold breeze.

"Are you hungry?" Dad asks me.

"No." But I was I just didn't want to have to stop at some restaurant and have a real conversation with the man.

Yeah, I'd really like to see how that would go: "So, Seth, how does it feel not being crazy anymore? Was it anything like that Girl, Interrupted movie?"

I couldn't help but snicker at the thought only making dad look over at me strangely.

"What's so funny?" He inquires.

"Oh, nothing" I tell him simply then turn toward the window again.

Looking down at my hands I notice my fingernails are quite long and as I bring my hand up to my mouth, my hospital bracelet catches my eye.

"Well, I guess you can take that off now, huh?" Dad suggests.

What did that mean "I guess"?

"You guess?" I question.

"I mean you can take if off." He rephrases.

"What if I don't want to?"

His jaw muscle kind of throbs and he shrugs his shoulders like he doesn't care,

"That's fine."

But I didn't want it on... acting this way will only make them doubt my recovery.

Lowering my head, I use my teeth to rip off the bracelet and then I throw it out the window. I look over to dad and he looks back at me and he smiles.

I felt somewhat liberated and scared at the same time.

Was I ready? Was I better?

"Seth" Dad suddenly calls.

"Huh?"

Smirking, he nods his head to the left and says,

"We're home now."

Hunching over in my seat, I see our lavish home.

"So we are."

I tried to move, I really did but I just couldn't.

Was I ready? Was I better?

Fear and doubt had paralyzed me and I knew that feeling all too well.

Closing my eyes tightly, I counted to ten just how Dr. Mick had advised.

1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10.

But the crippling fear had not gone away.

1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10.

I hear dad say something so I force myself to get it together. Slowly reopening my eyes, I unbuckle my seatbelt and open the car door, letting my legs hang out over the side while dad unloads my things.

"Is- Is anyone home?" I ask him after noting the lack of cars in our driveway.

"No, mom's working and Ryan's at school."

"Right" I say just before I stand up from the car.

"He wanted to stay but he missed a couple days last week and he just couldn't afford it."

Quirking a brow, I circle around to the back of the car to snoop for details,

"Was he sick?"

He clears his throat and he lifts the heaviest suitcase onto his back,

"No, he was suspended." He explains with a grunt.

I wanted to ask why but I didn't I just said, "Oh..." and then helped him carry my bags into the house.

As I walk into the foyer, I immediately notice something is different. Dropping the bags onto the floor, I look around. I couldn't quite put my finger on it until I stood before them.

"Are, are those new couches?"

"Uh huh" He murmurs out of breath.

It almost upset me; we've only had those couches for half of my childhood.

"Why do we have new couches?"

Shrugging his shoulders, he ran a hand through his thick hair.

"Your mother wanted a change."

Change and mom do not go together. She hated change.

"Right..." I start, "anything else I should know about?"

Chuckling, he pats me on the back, "I'll let you know."

I throw my backpack over my shoulder and head for the stairs which seemed a few steps short. Turning the knob, I open my bedroom door and flick the light switch on. To my utter surprise the room had not been touched since I left.

Christ, it's like I died.

I just stood there for a moment, and then kick a dirty sock across the room.

Smiling, I slowly make my way over to my dresser where I pull out a fresh pair of boxers and a dark green t-shirt.

"Dad, I'm gonna take a shower!" I shout and hear him yell, "Okay" back.

I walk over to the bathroom, where I plug the drain then turn the faucet on toward the faded red "H". After I undress, I cautiously step into the tub then settle myself down into the warm water.

It's so quiet, I couldn't help but reflect.

"Hello, Seth, my name is Mick Richardson. I'd like to talk to you about why you were sent here."

Lifting up my bandaged left wrist, he nods his head.

"Oh... I see." He starts, quickly jotting down onto a pad of paper, "Can I ask why?"

My head drops slightly and he gets the hint.

"Who found you?" He inquires.

"Ryan... my, my brother"

"Oh, how'd he know?"

Looking directly at the thirty-something man, I answer,

"He needed the toothpaste."

"What do you remember?"

At first I recalled nothing almost as if it never happened but in my heart

and on my flesh, and where I was, I knew.

"Ryan..." I start and though I wanted to stop, I don't, "he made them go away."

"Made what go away, Seth?"

With tears running down my face, I tell him,

"The dreams"

Let's go back, say, three years ago... when it all started...