Ch. 6
EmPOV
Edward Masen. He was an interesting one, that's for sure. He's only been here for one week and in that week, he had really made me think.
Carlisle and Esme took a mysterious trip last weekend, abruptly leaving Alice and me to fend for ourselves that Sunday. The call we got later that afternoon was, to say the least, shocking.
I happened to closest to the phone when it rang and even through Alice tried to race me to it, I easily held her back and said, "Hello?"
"Emmett, hey. What are you guys up to?" Dad asked.
"Nothin' much, eating lunch. What about you two, find anything interesting on your little escapade?"
He scoffed, "It's hardly an escapade, Emmett. And yes we do have something interesting to tell you. Is Alice with you?"
"Yeah."
"Can you put me on speaker phone?" Weird. I went to the table, sat, and put the phone on speaker. Alice sat next to me, looking highly confused.
"Ok go for it."
"Alright, this may come as a bit of a shock, but your mother and I are currently at Seattle Children's Hospital. You guys remember Mr. Johnson, correct?" He was the social worker who brought us Alice. Nice enough guy.
"Yeah, of course," Alice said.
"Well he called us last night. He wants us to be the foster parents for another child. A boy. Well, he's 16." He sounded nervous, weird for Carlisle.
I stared at the phone, surprised and trying to work it out logistically in my head.
"Ohh that would be great! What's his name?" Alice said, excited already. I thought she was a little prematurely happy, they didn't even say if they were going to do it yet.
"His name is Edward. Emmett? What do you think about this?"
"I mean, I don't really know. Is this like a permanent thing?"
"If everything works out in the next few hours, and you two agree, he would hopefully be coming home with us for good, as long as he was agreeable."
Why would he not be agreeable? Was he being difficult already?
"What's he like? He's from Seattle?"
"Yes…we haven't actually met him yet. We wanted to discuss this with you before making any big decisions. I don't really want to tell you details over the phone, but you should know that he's had a…difficult past. He won't be like any other 16 year old right away, I'm afraid."
"Difficult? What kind of difficult past?" I asked him. That didn't sound good. I knew my Mom would want to help him, but were we really up to that?
"Listen guys, Esme will be home tomorrow sometime to talk to you about all of this. I really don't want to try to explain over the phone."
"Is that why he's in the hospital?" Alice wondered.
"It's part of the reason, yes. Your mother and I have talked about this and we believe that we can help this boy and that he can be happy in our home. That's really all it boils down to right now and we hope you two can trust us and be on board with this."
"I think it's a great idea," Alice said simply, her mind made up.
I mean, if they thought it was fine, I should trust them, right? What's the worst that could happen? He could be really weird or crazy or something but I didn't have to be best friends with the guy, or he could be really demanding on my parents, but let's face it, Alice and I were pretty much grown. We didn't need all of their time anymore, and if they wanted to do this, that was okay with me. I guess. Who knows? I could turn out being good friends with the guy.
"Emmett?" Dad asked, waiting for my decision.
"I mean, I'm on board if you guys are. I'm sure it'll be fine."
When mom did come home the next day and told us who this kid really was, I felt mislead in a way. Edward Masen. The kid who had been a part of the huge murder/kidnap scandal in Seattle? That was who was coming to live with us? Maybe they should have mentioned that.
I guess I should have recognized the name, I mean how many Edwards were 16 year olds in Seattle now a day, but still. They could have said something.
Esme told us about him, as much as she knew. But that left a lot of unanswered questioned. So yeah, I Googled him. Shoot me.
The shit I found on there was unbelievable. There were pictures of the house he was kept in. Now it had police tape and cop cars surrounding it, but it looked so normal other than that. It freaked me out to know that something so horrible had gone down in a house like that.
There was a mug shot of the man who had done it…kidnapped him. Again, he looked normal. He didn't exactly look like a nice guy, more like a grumpy middle aged next door neighbor or something, but still. I would never have picked him out to be a kidnapping murderer.
I read a few articles about the case. There wasn't much new information. Most of it was just a recap of what had happened eight years ago plus a "The surviving victim, Edward Masen, who was thought to be dead, reappeared on Saturday morning. Reportedly, he ran to a neighbor's house, who then called the police. James Owen's was identified as the man who had held Edward captive since the death of his parents in 2002 and was arrested Saturday morning. Masen is now being cared for at a local hospital."
It was beyond bizarre that this kid, a national news story, was now a part of my life. He would be coming to my house in a few days to live with us. He wouldn't be just a news story, he would be in my life.
When Esme told us about the media attention and warned us not to go spreading information of Edward around town, I instantly felt guilty for reading about him. The media was obviously going to be an enemy here, as soon as they figured out where he was it was sure to be trouble. Now I was just another person supporting their invasion into his privacy. Hopefully, he would have some time before they found out where he was.
And then Dad's statement aired. He looked pretty good, very professional and he spoke clearly but kept it short. He said that Edward was doing well but was not going to be taking questions or making a statement. He asked them to give him some space and respect the family's wishes of privacy. Yeah right. And now, surely people would be able to find him through Dad.
When Edward got here, he looked like he had been through hell. I guess he had, but I just hadn't pictured him being in such rough shape. I had seen the cute little kid picture on the news- the one that was used in the missing person's stuff. The Edward now didn't really look anything like that.
The guy was quiet, that's for sure. I think I heard a total of like five words from him in the first few days. Alice and I rarely saw him, and I wondered if he was spending all of his time sleeping or if he was scared to bother us.
Mom and Dad had warned us that he might need some space and that we weren't to bother him. Let him come to us type deal, but it was a little bit frustrating.
When he came down for breakfast on Saturday, he looked so nervous and freaked, I really wanted to cheer him up a little. So I made a stupid joke, not thinking about it what it meant. A pale joke? About someone who had forcibly been inside for eight years? Yeah, good one. Mom and Dad were pissed and I was scared for a minute, but thankfully, Edward grinned and chuckled a little.
I couldn't help but be thrilled that he thought I was funny. I wanted him to like me. I found myself trying to think of more things to say to make him laugh, but I came up with nothing. Everything seemed stupid and unimportant. So I didn't talk to him anymore, until that night.
When I came to stay with Esme and Carlisle, I was only seven years old, so I didn't exactly mind so much that they were way overprotective. At least at first, but when school came around, they were all over me about everything. It was highly annoying. I recognize now that they were just trying to keep me safe, but in the moment I would have sworn they were trying to punish me.
So when Carlisle started shushing me, it brought back some residual anger. Edward didn't need life to be censored. He needed to see things for what they really were, and if that freaked him out at first, well he would have to get used to it.
He had been smothered for way too long as it was, he deserved to have an honest experience here. So I had to get him out.
The pizza thing was probably a little lame for his first outing, but whatever. Got to start somewhere.
Carlisle obviously didn't want him out, but luckily let it go in hopes of avoiding an awkward confrontation.
Edward was a little….jumpy. To say the least. But I talked to him on the drive and he, while sometimes reluctant to answer, let the conversation distract him. He even made a vague comment about the whole kidnap thing. It was like he wanted to talk about it, but didn't think anybody wanted to hear it. At least he wasn't pretending like it didn't happen or something.
I tried to hurry when getting the food. I didn't want to leave him alone when he was obviously freaked out, but I also didn't want to baby him.
He was an interesting one, that's for sure. I wanted to watch him…not in a creepy way, but something in me just wanted to understand him. He was all dark and misunderstood…it was just intriguing.
I got a mouthful after he went upstairs about pressuring him to go out. I didn't think I was pressuring him. He wanted to go, right? I was just giving him an opportunity.
"He was totally fine, you guys are overreacting," I told them, hoping to cool them down.
"Even if he was fine, the fact remains that he is in a fragile state of mind at the moment and he doesn't need these spur of the moment outings, especially when he doesn't have hardly any experience leaving this house or with you for that matter. He needs to set the pace right now, not you," Dad told me, clearly getting more and more upset the longer he had to think up reasons.
"I didn't make him do anything! I just asked, he could have said no. I didn't force him to go." This conversation was ridiculous. I was sitting on the couch, Mom and Dad both standing in front of me with their arms crossed like I was a little kid getting a scolding.
"He might not understand that he can say no right now," he came back at me.
"So what, you're just going to let him sit up in his room until he figures out that he can leave on his own? That could take forever."
"Then it'll take forever Emmett, we'll encourage him, but it needs to be his choice."
"Ever think that he might just need to be treated like a normal person? He doesn't need all this analyzing. Just let the guy do what he wants."
"He's not just a black and white case Emmett, he's not like you."
"You don't know that-"
"No. He's not like any other kid. He hasn't had the same experiences as you, he hasn't been taught the same things as you. You have to face the fact that he will need to move at a slower pace."
I looked at him. He wasn't giving him a chance. I wasn't saying that Edward could do everything just like any other teenager, but he's earned the right to try.
"Whatever," I said as I stood up and went to the stairs. "I think he deserves a little more credit. By the way, he told me that he's already done high school, so I don't think he's as inexperienced as you think he is."
EPOV
Monday, November 22
Monday at 3:00 p.m. found my in Carlisle's office again, talking to Dr. Garrison. I think I spent more time in here than him. She was a bundle of fun today, barely saying hello before she jumped right into it.
"Tell me about your medicine." She looked at me.
"What medicine?"
"Well..." she looked at her paper, "There's the pain medication for your concussion and dislocated shoulder, the Ativan for your panic attacks, the cold medication, and the sleeping pills. You can pick one to talk about if you want."
"You think I need all of those?"
"No, you don't need any of them, because you haven't taken them and you are still here, however I believe that all of these, given in the right circumstances, would help you."
"Well I don't want to take anything." I said simply, looking away from her analyzing eyes.
"I gathered that. Why?" I shrugged. "It's a valid choice to want to deal with minor medical problems without the use of medication, to an extent of course, if that choice is made for the right reason. I'm wondering what your reasoning is." I shrugged. She opened her mouth to protest so I quickly gave a more vocal answer.
"I just don't want to. I have to have a reason?"
"Something influenced this decision. Have you had a bad experience with medication?"
I glared at her this time. She obviously knew that I didn't want to talk about this. So clearly there was a bad experience. Duh.
She stared right back. Fine. "Yes." I said.
"Will you tell me about it?"
"No."
Without missing a beat she went on, not surprised at all. "Like I said, you may have perfectly valid reasons for not wanting it, however I would like you to consider something else." Instead of continuing, she asked another question. "Did you enjoy having a panic attack in the parking garage?"
I didn't reply, but she knew the answer. "Ativan would have helped you in that situation. It would not have put you to sleep or made you defenseless. It simply would have calmed your heart rate enough for you to be able to see things more clearly, not to mention ease the other effects of your anxiety."
She paused, and I couldn't help but resent her for telling me how I should feel about this. She had no idea, how could she judge me and my decisions when she knew nothing about my reasoning for this.
"Edward," she said, softer than before and leaning forward. "I know that you are scared of giving up your control, but I think that if you tried, you would see that it would help you, not hinder." She paused while I said nothing. "How about this. You try it out for yourself. Don't wait until you're already panicked. Take one while you have some time to yourself, up in your room. Close the door and just try it out. See what it makes you feel like. If you like it, keep it in mind for later, if not you don't have to take it again."
It pissed me off that she thought I wasn't trying. I was trying. This was hard to just sit here. I didn't like being in this room with her, I didn't like talking to people, I didn't like anything really other than hiding under the covers in my room. So yeah, I was trying. The fact that I was here was all the proof she should need. But apparently that wasn't enough.
"I'll think about it." No way I was giving her a definite answer.
"Thank you, that's all I'm asking." She smiled and leaned back, writing something on her paper. I couldn't help but squint my eyes at her in annoyance. She had a job to do, she had done it, now she was just so pleased with herself. She hadn't really done anything. This was still easy. When was she going to get to her real questions?
She looked a little smug still, so I tried to knock her down from that pedestal. Just a little.
"So when are you going to ask what you really want to know?" How long was she going to keep up this beating around the bush stuff? It was a little annoying and it made me feel more awkward, like I was hiding something.
"And what do you think I want to know?"
I could play that game. If she wouldn't say it, I would.
"When are you going to ask about him? How he treated me, what he did to me, how did he made me feel?" Those questions weren't really the worst ones she could ask. If she knew the right questions, I wouldn't be so confident right now.
"Are those things you would like to talk about?" I didn't answer because I assumed it was a rhetorical question. "I'm trying to start you off a bit easy, Edward. I realize you've never done this before, and until last week, you've never even heard of me. I'd like you to trust me a little before I go asking those questions. Do you agree?" I shrugged. "The things we're talking about now are important as well, and I assume easier to answer. Which brings me to my next topic." She paused, as if waiting for me to confirm that she could move on. Whatever.
"Let's talk about testifying against James Owens." I, embarrassingly, flinched. I'm sure she saw it, but she moved on anyway. "Have you come to a decision about that?"
"I don't want to ever be in the same room as him." I would testify if I didn't have to. If I did, then I wouldn't. She probably already knew that.
"Reasonable. Do you understand what it would mean to testify?"
"Esme said he would be there, so I don't want to."
"I recognize that, but I think it would be best if you were fully informed on the choices you have in regards to the legal proceedings. Soon, we will need to set a date for the Seattle Police Department to come here and interview you. Before that happens, I would like you to meet with the Cullen's attorney and go over the questions that are going to be asked."
She went on to explain what testifying meant, that I would appear for a court date during his trial in a few months, I would be questioned by both sides, he would be there, he wouldn't talk to me but his attorney would, there would be a jury and other people in the courtroom, listening. My testimony might take several days to go through, Carlisle and Esme could be with me, I could take breaks and go at my own speed.
She was obviously trying to make it sound more appealing than it really was. To be honest, I didn't want to do any of that, but if James wasn't there, I would feel obligated to do it. The fact that he was going to be there was a nice excuse I could use to get out of the rest of it. I refused to see him anymore so the rest didn't matter.
"If you choose not to testify, you will still need to give a statement to the police. You won't have to go anywhere or see Owens, but your account will not be nearly as useful in the trial."
Something was bothering me about all of this. "I don't understand why they need me anyway. Isn't murder worse than kidnapping or whatever? Why do they even need to know what happened after that?"
She looked at me, almost sadly, and didn't answer for a moment. When she did, it was clear that she was holding something back, only giving me part of the story.
"Edward, you happen to be the only witness to the murders also. I'm not a legal expert, but I do know that it will be much harder to get him even on the murder charges without your testimony. There is other evidence, but the best chance of putting him in prison for the longest time is with your testimony."
Blood drained from my face and I felt my head spin with those words. He could get out? I hadn't known that. All those people at the hospital kept saying that he could never hurt me again…I thought that meant he would be locked up forever. As soon as he got out, he would come straight for me, I knew that.
"That doesn't mean they can't convict him Edward. It's your choice whether to testify or not. It's completely up to you." Yeah, I knew that. I had already made my decision. I couldn't see him again. Even if I went, as soon as I was sitting in front of him, I knew I wouldn't be able to say the truth. I couldn't blame him while he was watching.
"What are you thinking?"
"I can't testify in front of him. Sorry if that screws up the trial or whatever, but I don't want to and I can't."
"I could help you, Edward. We could prepare, go over the questions, know your answers, prepare you for facing him…you can do this, if you want to." I shook my head. She didn't know.
"Okay….well like I said, we need to pick a day for the police to come regardless. If you change your mind, it won't be too late, okay?" I nodded.
"Do you feel like you could give a statement to the police soon?"
"Yeah. I want to get it over with."
"You do?" she sounded surprised.
"Can we do it soon? Like this week or something?"
"Sure…but you don't have to rush this. You can wait until-"
"Until what? I feel better about this? Nothing's going to change. What he did is done. There's no use waiting for anything."
She paused again, this time looking a little shocked that I had gotten so irritated.
"Okay. I'll tell Carlisle he can call and set up the appointment for later this week?" she asked. I nodded, giving her permission to tell Carlisle.
It was annoying how people couldn't make up their minds about this. They wanted me to move on, to get used to this whole new life but then they kept bringing this shit up. Every other day I was in here with this lady, talking about all the stuff I was trying to forget.
"Edward, you're right that what he did is done. There is no changing what happened. But maybe one day you will be able to accept what happened and move on. I'm not saying that you need to be okay with what happened. The goal of these sessions is to get you to have some hope, even coming out of the awful situation you were forced into. To be able to live your own life, be happy and successful and not think about the negatives of this situation, but what you can make of it. You'll get there one day Edward. You can be happy with life. You just have to let yourself."
I didn't want to think about being happy. I wasn't. Just like when I was locked in that room, I didn't think about getting out when I could help it. I wasn't, so why pretend or fantasize? It just made real life more painful.
When I walked into the kitchen for dinner, only Emmett and Esme were there. They didn't see me right away. Esme was by the stove, preparing the food and Emmett was there but seemed to be hindering the cooking process. He was stealing carrots from a bowl full of the vegetable and potatoes.
I looked at the cliché picture in front of me. Mother and son, him misbehaving and her scolding playfully. I wanted that. So bad. I wanted it to be me and my mom. I wished she could have seen me grow up. I wished I could have grown up, period. Instead, I was thrown into some aspects of adulthood way too early and others never at all. My life was so unbalanced.
I wanted to be Emmett. I wanted his life, his relationships, his experiences. I wanted to not have my memories and have his instead. I hated that I couldn't wipe out my brain and start over. Why did memories have to stick like they did? It wasn't fair.
Out of nowhere, I felt something bounce off my face. Looking down, I saw a carrot roll away from my foot. My mouth was wide open in shock when I looked back up and saw Emmett grinning at me. He threw a carrot at me. What the hell?
But then he laughed, and I had to smile. It was so random, and casual, and…comfortable.
"Nice of you to join us," he said sarcastically. "Have a carrot." He threw another at me. I was ready this time and caught it.
"Emmett! Stop wasting my food! Wait until dinner is ready."
I smiled again, bending down to pick up the other carrot that he threw at me. When I stood back up, Emmett was still looking at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to retaliate.
They were trying. Harder than I was. They wanted me to have a good life too, and I was over here feeling sorry for my pathetic existence. Emmett was trying to help me into his life. The least I could do was try to enjoy it.
So I threw the carrot back at him. It hit him on the jaw. For a second I thought he was going to catch it in his mouth. He looked shocked for a moment before turning to Esme and saying in a voice more appropriate for a ten year old, "Mooommm, Edward threw a carrot at me!" I knew he was joking, but I was still offended that he would tell on me.
"I'm sure you deserved it," she said in an uninterested voice, focused on her meal again. Emmett looked at her like she had just committed a horrible act of betrayal.
And for the first time in way longer than I could remember, I laughed. Not a chuckle, not a humorless scoff, a laugh. It sounded odd, but good. It felt good too.
"Well what do you know? He can smile," Emmett lightly mocked. That shut me up and he chuckled a bit before saying, "Come on man, help me set the talbe. I'm fucking hungry."
"Language!"
Tuesday, November 23rd
I woke up in a strangely good mood on Tuesday, despite the irritating session with Dr. Garrison the day before…with another one promised for tomorrow. I took a shower and got dressed like usual, heading downstairs for breakfast.
Esme, Carlisle, and I had eggs and bacon. Afterwards, Esme let me help her with the dishes. It felt rude never helping her with the cleaning when she made these nice meals for me. I had offered on other occasions, but she insisted that she wanted to do it. After a little prodding, telling her I wanted to feel useful, she agreed.
"Edward…can I ask you something?" Uh oh. That didn't sound good. After a shrug, she went on, "Emmett mentioned something to us the other day but…how much schooling have you had?" she sounded confused.
"Oh…um. Why?" I wondered if she was going to try to make me go to school or something. I didn't want to go.
"Well you know it doesn't matter to us, we'll help you catch up if that's it, but Emmett sort of indicated that you've had more than one would expect…."
I figured Dr. Garrison would have told them by now. I guess she actually kept that to herself for once.
"Yeah, I had these books for homeschooling or whatever…"
"Yeah? What did you learn? What subjects, I mean."
"Uh…I did math, science, english, and history I guess."
"Really? What was the last thing you did in math?" she hedged, obviously not believing that I didn't need more education.
"I think the last section in it was pre-calculus? I don't know, he brought me the books a long time ago, some had CD's with them…"
She paused and looked at me, confused. "You had a computer?"
"It didn't have internet." I knew what she was thinking. Why didn't I use it to get out? The police at the hospital asked me that as well…they didn't know about the computer, but they asked why I hadn't ran before.
It wasn't like I didn't want to run. I did. But he told me a long time ago that if I did, he would find me and then I would be in trouble. I didn't have anywhere else to go, what was the point of running? Where would I run to? I never really had an opportunity anyway. Whenever I was out of my locked room, he was there, close enough to watch me or see me try to get out. I was too little to overpower him for a long time, by the time I could, I didn't see the point.
The day I did run, I only did it because I panicked. I had hurt him, badly. I didn't want him to wake up and be angry with me. I had never fought back before. I didn't know what to do, so I bolted, not thinking of the consequences. To be honest, I'm still a little surprised at myself for doing it. It scared me to think about what he would do if he got me now.
"Honey, you know that's not what I meant, right?" Esme drew my attention back. She looked sad. "I only meant that I didn't know you knew about computers is all. You have one in your room, have you used it?" I shook my head. I didn't really know that much, I wasn't on it that often. Sometimes James felt bad when he was gone for long days. He took trips sometimes and would leave me in the room the whole time. He moved an old computer up there before one of them, not that it did me a lot of good.
"Well feel free to mess around on it, it's yours," she smiled.
"What happened with…his house?" I asked the question before I thought through what she would read into it. I want to take it back but she had already heard. She had put down the dishes by now, as had I, abandoning all pretenses of cleaning up breakfast.
"I know the police were there and it's being used for evidence for the trial but…I don't really know what will happen after it's all over. You'd be better to ask Carlisle, he keeps up on the legal matters more than I do."
I didn't like the thought of that at all. Police in my room, seeing where I had been kept for so long, touching things that only I had touched, seeing where he had ruined my childhood, I didn't want to think about that being out there…in evidence. That was my space.
"Why? Was there something you wanted?" she asked, quietly this time. Gently, like she was afraid I would break.
"No." I said it right away, with no thought. I didn't want to see anything from that house, ever again. I wanted it to be burned to the ground so nobody could see what I had seen. I didn't want others knowing anything about it.
I spent most of the day up in my room. I took a nap, watched some TV, ate some lunch and by the time Alice and Emmett got home from school, I had all but forgotten about the chat me and Esme had in the kitchen that morning.
When I came down around five for dinner, Alice was in the living room, talking on the phone. Luckily she was pretty immersed in a conversation about someone who was "really tall with excellent hair" and she didn't notice as I passed through into the kitchen.
I was helping Esme set the table again when I heard something to stop me dead in my tracks.
"Hey Mom! Come here, Edward's on the news again."
I froze. I felt Esme's eyes on me. I listened, and I could hear the TV on in the living room. Looking up slowly, I looked at Esme's shocked and worried face. She didn't say anything though, not that I would listen. I put the plates I was holding down with a bang and took three giant steps towards the living room.
"Edward, wait, don't watch that," she tried to warn me, but I wasn't listening and I was faster than her.
But it wasn't my face I saw on the screen. It was his. James was right there, on the five o'clock news, for the world to see. It looked like it had been taken in jail, but that didn't stop the smug grin that I knew so well from appearing on his face.
Some news lady was taking but I couldn't hear over the pounding of blood in my ears. I felt my breathes become shorter. I tore my eyes away from that man's face, never wanting to look at him again.
I looked at Alice instead. She was looking at the screen. At James. She was seeing him and I wanted to smash that TV. She should never have seen him. I didn't want that man's face inside her brain, period.
Slowly, she turned to look at me. There were tears in her eyes.
She knew.
She had seen. I bolted. I was up the stairs before Esme could even call out my name. I ran up the second flight and down the hall to my room. I slammed the door and for the first time, locked the door. How's that for irony. I had locked myself in.
Tears were already coming down my face, I wanted nothing more than to hide under the bed again. But I wouldn't do that, not anymore.
Instead I went to the window, throwing the curtains open for the first time since I shut them the first day I was here. I looked out into the woods behind the house. I didn't know what I was looking for, I knew he was in jail. The TV had just shown me that.
When I didn't see anything, I shut them again sat down against the wall, waiting for my eyes to readjust to the dark.
I wrapped an arm around my legs, holding them tight. I about to fall apart, I just knew it. I tried to take some deep breathes, but it hurt to inhale too deeply.
Esme was at my door, knocking gently and asking me to come to the door. I couldn't do it, I couldn't face them knowing that they knew.
Now that I thought about it, it was stupid of me to think that they hadn't seen him before, but I didn't like the conformation. I watched Alice see him. Little tiny enthusiastic Alice, she had been tainted by that man's face. Worse, she knew the face that haunted me every day.
Maybe I was embarrassed, or scared, or mad that she had seen him, but I never wanted to face her again. I was going to stay in my room. I knew how to be in my room. I knew how to sit here and let my mind leave, passing time painlessly. I could do that, and it would feel better than trying to pretend that I could fit in here.