Jake

"Counselling?" I echoed. "You want me to go counselling?"

My mum looked me up and down, which was hard since I was sitting on the couch. It was my first week back home and my mum just informed me that I have a case of adolescent depression and that my only option was to go to counselling.

"Maybe it's not such a bad idea, Jake," my mum said softly. "It will help you talk things through."

"Why aren't you making Tom go counselling?" I asked, glaring at the back of Tom's head as he ate dinner. He was pretending not to listen, but I knew he was.

"You know what the doctor said, honey."

"I'm not going counselling," I said defiantly. "I am not depressed."

My mum sat down on the couch with me.

"Your father would want you to go to counselling," she said.

"How do you know that?" I snapped. "Did he tell you that?"

My mum looked hurt, but I didn't care.

"How about we give you a couple of weeks to settle in back home?" she said, trying to reason with me. "If I see that you've improved, then you don't have to see a counsellor. But if you don't improve…"

"I'm not going to any counsellor," I said, stubbornly.

"Come on, Jake," my mum pleaded. "You're better than this."

"What do you know?" I shouted, standing up, aware that Tom was no longer trying to pretend to listen.

"Jake, your father…"

"What would you know about dad?" I continued to shout. "You know nothing. You don't know what happened. Stop trying to care."

"Yo, Jake, man, calm down," Tom said, looking a bit freaked out.

"Like you care," I said, turning towards him. "It's not like you care at all. You don't even mind that dad's dead. All you worry about is if you're going to miss another meeting of the Sharing."

"Jake, sit down," mum snapped, standing up. "You're going counselling. No trials, no nothing. That's the end of it."

"What will counselling prove? That I'm nuts?" My mum stared at me. "I'm not depressed, I'm not nuts and I don't need counselling," I snapped. I turned around and before another word was said, I walked out of the house.

They didn't come after me. I didn't expect them to come after me. I don't usually act like a selfish, arrogant, spoilt kid as I seemed to be with my mum, but I couldn't handle it anymore. I mean everyone is trying to help me when I don't want help. Was I depressed? I don't know. I wasn't exactly jumping for joy, but who could blame me? Did that make me depressed? How could anyone tell? All I could tell was that I constantly felt like I was being ripped apart. Like there was this never ending pain and it was unbearable.

According to the doctors, my arm was healing abnormally fast. I wondered if this was because of my morphing ability, but when I thought about it more, I realised I really didn't give a damn. My ribs had healed already and the many cuts were fading faster than normal.

I was walking down a street three blocks away from my house, people were looking at me funny, maybe because my arm was in a sling or maybe because my picture was in the paper along with an article on the accident.

"Hey, Jake, come over here."

I turned around. Three guys from my school were standing outside a 7-11 shop. I walked over to them. They were in a few classes of mine. They were the kind of guys that were harmless but wouldn't be afraid to hurt you if necessary. Maybe that was the impression I got from them, but maybe other people saw him differently.

"We saw you in the paper," the biggest one, Nathan, said. He had a large nose to match his large figure. He was large as in tall large. He was about a centimetre shorter than me, but he wasn't built like a football player like some people have commented about me.

"Who hasn't?" I mumbled.

"You pressin' charges?" Mark said. He was small and had spiked dyed black hair. He wore a lanky grin and I knew he was a Goth. It was hard not to know with all the heavy black make-up he's got going on.

"About what?" I asked.

"You know," Ed said, the last member of the group. "About the autopsy thing." Ed was about Marco's height, but this guy was tough.

I stirred uncomfortably. I wasn't happy at all about what the police had done to my dad's body without my mum's permission, but we weren't pressing charges.

"No," I said. "My mum's not too comfortable with that."

"Too bad," Ed whistled. "You look beat," he reached into his pocket. "Have a smoke."

He held out a cigarette for me. I don't know why I did it, but I did. I took it out of his hand and put it in my mouth.

"You have a lighter?" I asked.

They smiled.

The next couple of weeks I didn't go to school and if I was forced to I think I would have wagged anyway. I hadn't morphed or talked to any of the other Animorphs for a long time, they probably thought I needed space. I spent most of my time out of the house, spending it with Mark, Nathan and Ed. My mum tried to get me into counselling, but every time she mentioned it I walked out on her. Sometimes I'd hear her cry at night, but I'd block it all out.

I'd picked up the art of smoking and had actually gotten used to it. My mum and Tom didn't know about my new found habit. I covered it up with deodorant and hid my cigarettes in all different parts of my room, mostly in dresser drawers. So far smoking is as far as I had gone. Ed had offered me alcohol, but I declined. Smoking didn't take away that ripping feeling I always felt, but I pretended it did. It was the reason after all I had started smoking. I don't like smoking, it's not who I am, but I just felt like I had no control over my life at the moment. Smoking seemed like this was my decision. I hadn't decided for the car to crash, I hadn't decided for my dad to die. I didn't decide for my mum seriously considering me going to counselling. All of that, it wasn't my choice. Smoking was and as funny as it sounded, I enjoyed knowing it. I enjoyed knowing that I was smoking because I had made a choice. I had made a difference in my life. Nobody else.

Mark introduced me to Marilyn Manson's music and I found I liked it. I bought his album and played it whenever I was in my room. The whole anger thing really got me going.

My cast had been taken away to leave a very frail arm. The doctors said I'd be weak for a while. I didn't care what they thought. The cut on my forehead had completely healed, with the puzzlement of the doctors. They were convinced that there would be a scar. Shows how much they know.

"Damn it!" I yelled, but nobody could hear me. Marilyn Manson's song was playing full on in my room as I searched for my lost mobile. "Where the hell are you?"

I was in serious need for a smoke when someone knocked on my door. I didn't answer; I never answered the door anymore. But they walked in anyway.

Marco, Cassie, Rachel and Tobias in human morph walked in. Tobias blocked his ears when he walked in and Cassie put on a disgusted face.

I smiled to myself and went back to looking for my mobile. The cigarettes would have to wait.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Marco shouted over the music.

I ignored him and tipped over my bed mattress.

"I SAID WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Marco shouted again.

Still, I ignored him. Having enough, he walked over to my CD player and pressed the stop button. The music stopped.

"Hey," he said angrily. "I asked what you're doing."

I walked over to him and pushed him out of the way.

"I heard you," I snapped, pushing the play button on the CD player.

The music started playing again and I continued my search for my mobile.

Rachel walked up to the CD player pressed eject and took out the CD.

I glared at her. "What's your problem?"

"I hate Marilyn Manson," she smiled. "And since when did you become a fan?"

I turned to my drawers and started tossing clothes out on the floor, ignoring her.

"We came to see if you're alright, Jake," Cassie said.

I continued throwing clothes on the floor. "I'm fine, and I'd be a lot better if you were gone."

Marco was looking down at the floor where my clothes lay. I looked down at what he was staring at. In the mixture of my clothes was my hidden cigarette packet. I quickly made a grab for it, but Marco was faster. He looked at the cigarette packet in disgust.

"You smoke now, Jake?" he asked.

I snatched the packet out of his hands. I was aware that my friends were looking at me with something between surprise and pity. I ignored their glares and pocketed the packet. But I missed the look in Rachel's eyes which told me she had stopped pitying me.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she shrieked. "Since when has smoking been your thing?"

"Keep it down," I snapped. "I'm not getting caught because you can't deal with it."

Cassie walked to the door and closed it.

"You're smarter than this, Jake," Cassie said.

I was so sick of people telling me that I was smarter or better than something, I almost exploded, but I kept it in.

"Obviously he's not," Marco spat at me. "How'd you get it? Fake ID? Do you do drugs now too?"

That wasn't fair. He stared at me like I was dirt on the bottom of his shoes. He sent me a look the equivalent of flying daggers.

"Get stuffed," I said, turning back to my search.

"Answer him, Jake," Cassie said firmly. "How'd you get it?"

I turned to face them. "This is not a big deal. It's not drugs or alcohol. It's not like I'm stoned."
"Yeah, maybe not," Tobias agreed. "But this is you we're talking about."

"So?" I said.

"The Jake I know wouldn't do this," Cassie said softly. "The Jake I know hates smoking."

I gave her a dirty look. "The Jake you know is dead."

"What, so you're just going to smoke?" Rachel demanded angrily. "What about the Animorphs? You can't just be our leader like this."

"Who says I'm your leader?" I challenged. "I never wanted to be your damn leader."

"We can't do this without you," Tobias said softly. "We know this war has been leading to your depression…" He stopped suddenly, looking shocked.

I felt my face go red with anger.

"You still spy on me?" I said angrily at him. "Who told you could do that?"

"He didn't spy on you," Marco interrupted. "Rachel and I did."

I turned to him and Rachel angrily. "You spied on me?"

"Yeah," Rachel said, staring me in the eye. "Is that alright with you?"

"Oh, yeah," I said sarcastically. "I love how my life has no privacy. Everyone is always in my face. Why don't you people just spread the word: Leave me alone."

"Nobody's against you," Cassie said. "We're trying to help you."

I laughed. "What am I to you people?" I asked. "A mental case?"

"How about we come back when you start acting normal?" Marco said. "I liked you better when you weren't such a jerk."

"Well I'm sorry if I'm not exactly saint material," I shot back.

A ringing sound filled the room. It came in the direction of my desk. I walked over and pulled open a drawer. There, sitting in between two of my school books, was my mobile. I picked it up and answered it.

"Hey, Jake, man," Mark's voice filled my hearing. "How's it hanging?"

Usually I would have criticized anyone who said that, but now I couldn't really care.

"Hey," I said. "What's up?"

"Me and Ed are gonna meet up with Nathan in half an hour," he said. "Wanna come?"

"Sure," I said, and then I glanced at the others. "Got nothing better to do."

"Great," he said. "We're meeting at that alley behind that comic book shop. Seeya."

"Bye," I hung up and turned towards the others. "Alright, I'm going out, so you need to go right now."

"Where are you going?" Marco demanded.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm meeting a couple of friends," I informed him.

"Who?" Rachel asked.

"Ed, Mark and Nathan," I said absently.

"Mark?" Tobias said, thinking, and then it clicked. "He was the guy that stuffed my head down the toilet before you pulled him off me."

I turned around and looked at him. I studied his face, trying to remember. I saw myself pulling a black-spiked haired kid off a spluttering Tobias.

"Oh yeah," I said, smiling. "Now I know why I like that guy."

"You're a jerk," Rachel snapped. "You've gone from all around nice guy to a complete jerk."

"Thanks for the compliment," I said. "Now can you get out?"

"Come on, Tobias," Rachel said, giving me a dirty look. "Let's get out of here." She slammed my Marilyn Manson CD on my desk.

She whirled around and walked towards the door. She opened it and waited calmly. Tobias gave me a hurt look before walking out the door. Rachel followed.

"That was low, Jake," Marco said. "Really low."

"This coming from the guy who calls him bird-boy every chance you get," I snapped.

"Jake, what's happening to you?" Cassie asked. "You were never like this."

"I have to be somewhere," I said impatiently.

Marco walked out without a second thought. Cassie gave me a pitying look and walked out after him, closing the door behind her.

I walked to what was left of my bed and sat heavily on it. I buried my face in my hands.

Just go away, leave me alone, I willed the pain silently.