by A. R. Breck
Linda frowns at me, “I’m so sorry, Mercy. Dave told me what happened. How tragic.”
“It doesn’t matter. I can be sad, or I can be happy. Either way, they’re still all dead.”
She frowns at my train of thought. “Did Dave discuss with you what happens now?”
I lower my eyebrows. “You mean treatment? He’s already making me go.”
She smiles at this. “Good. I’m glad you’ve agreed. I want you to be aware, if things keep heading down this path, I’ll have no choice but to pull you from the home.”
“I’ll be fine.” Shit, fuck off, Linda.
She uses the sides of the chair to push herself to a stand. “Wonderful. I’ll be checking in with you in four weeks at The Haven. That’s the treatment center you’ll be staying at. I’m sorry I haven’t checked in more often, but rest assured, I’ll be stopping in more frequently from now on.”
Oh, goodie.
“Okay.”
“See you soon, Mercy.”
“See you.” I hope not.
Once Linda leaves, I roll over with another wince and breathe through the head pain. I guess I’m a no-go for narcotics. Whatever.
I lay for so long, trying to sleep but my body just won’t rest. This is why I started this spiral in the first place. It helps me sleep and escape from everything I’m feeling. Because now I’m awake, and alone, and my mind wanders.
Aeron.
I miss him. I hate him. I have feelings for him. I can’t sort through my feelings in this small hospital room. I need him. But where is he? What jail is he in?
Aric.
I miss him. I wish this never happened to him. What if we were meant to be? He could still be here if I never forced myself to go to that damn Pit.
Aeron.
I’m desperate for him.
It’s not a drug-induced crush. I’m sober as ever right now and there’s nothing I want more than for Aeron to be here. Aeron with his tattoos. With his shaggy hair and his sweats because he doesn’t give a fuck. Aeron.
Aric.
If we would have stayed home. Stayed in. Would he still be here now? Would we have ended up together, someday?
Aeron, Aeron, Aeron.
How dare he tell me it’s my fault. Yes, I still believe in a way that it is my fault. But he had the audacity to shoo me away from Aric? The hate in his eyes the last moment I saw him will forever be ingrained in my mind. How could we ever come back from that?
Aric, Aric, Aric.
He died trying to protect me. He shielded me when he could have shielded himself. He guarded me when he knew I had feelings for his brother. He still allowed himself to die for me, because he would rather me be alive then him.
I fall asleep with my mind a tornado of torment with two brothers on my mind.
25
Mercy
“Here we are.” Dave says as we pull into the parking lot of The Haven.
A large house lays sprawled in front of me on over ten acres of land. We drove around the most beautiful lake to get here, and I hope I’m allowed to go down there during my stay. The last thing I want is for this place to act like a prison and I can only watch the blue lake ripple from my bedroom window. I read a pamphlet on this place on the way down here. It’s supposed to be a homey feel instead of some of the other treatment centers, which are usually very institutionalized.
Dave thought this place would better fit me. I hope he’s right. A part of me wants to call Linda and tell her I do want to leave, just because I don’t want to come here. I feel like I’m constantly getting ripped out of places just when I’m starting to get comfortable.
My home in Aurora Falls. I loved my friends, my home, my family, my town. Then I get ripped out of there and get shoved in Lake City with the Reid’s. Finally, I start to get comfortable, and rip, right out of there and into The Haven.
I don’t want to be here.
“Ready to go check it out?” Dave asks, parking the car and turning around to face me in the backseat.
Aeron.
Aric.
My heart pangs, and I shove both of them out of my mind. Now is not that time to worry about them. I’m here to focus on myself, and I promised Dave that that’s what I’d do. I can’t let him down. Not now. I’m the last one he’s got.
Dave’s words about what my parents would want for me float through my mind constantly. They wouldn’t want this. I need to keep telling myself that, because as I sit here staring up at this old school country style home in the middle of nowhere, my body twitches like crazy for a fix. My anxiety is hyped up to max and I want nothing more than to bring a bump up to my nose and feel the head rush I’m so used to feeling. Take away the pain that is always in my heart from the loss of my parents’ and now Aric on top of that? I feel like I can barely breathe.
“Mercy? Are you ready?” Dave asks again.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I mumble.
Dave sighs, and we hop out and start walking towards the front.
We’re greeted by a woman at the front desk named Jen. Her blonde curly hair is pulled up in a ponytail and her heavyset body looks melted into the chair she’s sitting in.
“You will be staying in 2B with Desie. I’ll have Dakota show you around and help you get settled.” She gets on the phone and notifies them I’ve arrived. “Dakota will be right down.” She tells us.
Dave makes small talk with Jen while I look around the place that’s soon to become my new home for the next few months. The place is outdated, from its furniture to its decorations. I peek into one of the bedrooms that’s open, and it’s simple. Two small twin beds on either side of the room with a nightstand in between them.
Shit. This looks awful.
Suddenly, I hear voices. I look up as a girl walks by, and behind her is a line of girls my age. They all stop talking as they stare at me, and I mean really stare at me. My body locks up, and I stand up straighter.
Shit.
I don’t want to do this.
“Hello!” Comes a chirpy voice. A woman in jeans and a colorful blouse comes up to me with an overzealous smile on her face. “You must be Mercy.” She reaches her hand out, and I place my hand in hers to shake.
She shakes hands with Dave. “I’m Dakota, I’m the program manager and I’ll be showing you around and getting you acquainted with the grounds. Sound good?”
I give her a nod, nerves making my stomach jumpy.
“Great, let’s go.” She shows me around the different rooms. The rec room, where I’ll be spending a lot of my time. A pool table, foosball table, old school radio, and ping pong table all fill up the room. There are various couches and chairs situated around a shelf with games and one of those old huge TVs.
Next, we go to the kitchen, which has a massive table, or maybe five tables shoved together, with a plastic tablecloth and about twenty chairs sitting around it. Off in another room sits restaurant style equipment, and two huge sinks to wash dishes.
No dishwasher? Shiiiiiiit.
She shows me to the outside which has a volleyball net and a basketball hoop.
“This is an all-girls house, right?” Dave butts in, frowning as he looks around. I give him a look, but his gaze doesn’t stray from Dakota’s.
Dakota looks at him with a smile. “Correct.”
I see Dave’s body deflate, and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Probably a little bit of both. Now he’s getting all fatherly on me? Now?
A little late for that.
We then head upstairs through another small living area and end up in front of 2B. “This will be your room.” She opens the door, and it’s much like the room downstairs. Although, this room is a tiny bit bigger and is able to fit a desk up against one of the walls, too.
“Do you want to unpack and check in your things now? Or would you prefer to do that after dinner.”
“After dinner is fine.” I shove my backpack on the floor and kick it underneath the bed.
Dakota raises her eyebrows at me b
ut says nothing.
“Well, I should head back home. Mercy, I’ll be here every visiting day, and I expect a call from you every night.”
I’m suddenly scared to let him out of my sight. Tears spring to my eyes as I panic. “I don’t want you to go. Please don’t leave me.” I want to grab onto Dave and cling to him like a child. I’m nervous and depressed and wanting a fix. My emotions are going in every which direction and I don’t know how to handle any of this.
“I have to. You know that.” He gives me a hug, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.
“Please, I promise I’ll be better. What about the funeral? I’m going to miss it?” I can’t believe we never discussed this, but he can’t really expect me to miss it, can he?
He looks at me nervously. “I’m meeting with the funeral director tomorrow. The funeral will most likely be next week. So, yes, Mercy, you will unfortunately miss it. But I don’t want you to worry about that right now. I want you to focus on getting better, and that’s the only thing I want you to focus on.”
“Please.” The thought of not being able to go to Aric’s funeral is gut wrenching.
“I’m sorry, Mercy. You know the terms.” He gives me one more hug then steps out of our embrace. “Call me tonight. I’ll be waiting for your call.”
He comes up to be and gives me one more hug. I’m unable to give much back at this point, I have nothing left to give. I feel completely defeated.
“Bye, Mercy. See you this weekend.” Dave gives me a wave.
I don’t want to be here.
“Ready to go meet everyone?” Dakota asks, perky as ever.
I look up at her with wet eyes. “Actually, I do want to unpack right now. I’m not feeling great, so I think I’m going to call it a night.” I walk into my room with my head hanging down.
“I’m sorry, it doesn’t work like that.” Dakota drops her smile and gives me a frown.
“Dakota? You seem like a nice enough person. But right now, I’m not feeling the best. Right now, I want to either run away or find a pound of cocaine to bump. Let me be right now, okay? Just let me fucking be.” I kick the door stop out of the way and let the door slam.
Walking over to my bed, I fall onto it dramatically and close my eyes.
And somehow, in this strange place that looks and smells so unfamiliar to me, I fall asleep.
~
“Hey.” Comes a whisper from a tiny voice. Memories come back of where I am and I shoot up, looking at the girl crouched down on the side of my bed. “Hi. I’m Michelle. You must be Mercy. Rad name.”
“Um, thanks.” I scrub my face. I’m shocked I slept. I guess I really needed it.
“You missed dinner and game time. We’re just about to shower and make phone calls. Dakota said to wake you up. What’re you here for?”
I frown. Is this a thing? We all know what the next person is here for?
“Um, I was using.” Not really in the mood to delve into the ‘my parents are dead, my best friend is dead, and I tried to kill myself’ speech.
Michelle nods her head like she’s heard this a million times. “What are you here for?” I ask.
She flops her arms over and reveals a million slices up and down her arms. “I’m a cutter. Not like a suicidal person or anything. It’s more like an addiction.” She shrugs, and I can’t tear my eyes away from the old scars and the new. The rigged ones and the straight ones. The thin ones and the thick ones. I swallow the lump in my throat.
Is this me? Someone that hurts themselves, on purpose?
“Oh.” Guilt makes me want a bump now more than ver.
Michelle laughs and flips her arms back over. “Yeah, it’s whatever. I’m here until I can get my shit together, is what my mom says.” She shrugs again. “Ready to go shower?” She’s odd, but also nice. I decide she might be a good friend while I stay here.
Well, I hope so at least. We’ll see.
I get up and follow her out. The girls stop what they’re doing, and the hair dryer turns off. “Great, you’re up!” Dakota sets her clipboard down on her lap and looks me over. “You up for a shower and phone call? I figured Dave might be back if you didn’t call him tonight.”
I laugh. “Yeah.”
“Let’s go around and do introductions, sound good? Michelle, you start.” And one by one, the girls go around and introduce themselves.
“My name is Michelle, I’m sixteen, and I’m here for self-harm.”
“My name is Julie, I’m thirteen, and I’m here for family issues.” Family issues? Okay…
“My name is Ellie, I’m seventeen, and I’m here for a probation violation.”
“My name is Darniese, I’m sixteen, and I’m here for a probation violation.”
“My name is Jacie, I’m fifteen, and I’m here for running away.”
“My name is Lori, I’m fifteen, and I’m here for family issues.”
“My name is Mercy, I’m seventeen, and I’m here for… drug use.”
“Great! Let’s get moving on showers. Mercy, why don’t you go and hop in the shower, and when you get out you can make your phone call.”
I grab my things and start walking to the bathroom when Michelle yells, “Forgot to tell you, showers are only ten minutes!”
I widen my eyes but don’t say anything.
This fucking sucks.
I hop in the shower, taking the fastest one of my life then making the phone call to Dave. Right when he gets on the phone, I break down. I cry so hard I have to go into Dakota’s office because everyone’s looking at me. Michelle tells me everyone does it when they first get here, but I hate feeling this way. I want to go home. I want to go with Dave and forget this past week ever happened.
I hate this.
Dave tells me about his plans for the funeral, and the entire time I sit with my face buried in my hands as I cry silently. I can’t do this. I beg Dave for him to come pick me up so we can go through this together, but he refuses again and again.
When I get off the phone, I feel worse than before. I see a girl, Jacie, I think it was, writing a letter in the corner. An idea pops in my head, and I realize why I’m feeling this way. Everything feels so unfinished because of Aeron. I literally haven’t spoken to him since The Pit. He doesn’t know anything that happened to me.
He has no idea.
“Can I use a piece of paper?” I ask when I go up to Jacie.
“Yeah, sure. Here.” She rips out a piece of paper from a notebook and hands one to me. I grab a pencil out of the box and walk to the other side of the room. I think I’m going to need as much privacy as I can get.
Aeron,
I miss you. I think that’s the first thing to get off my chest. I don’t know why I miss you, but I do. The second thing I need to get off my chest is I hate you. The fact that I’d follow you to the ends of the earth, and you decided to leave me high and dry should be enough of an indication that I need to stay far, far away from you. You literally told me to go fuck off, basically. You blamed your brother’s death on me. After everything we’ve been through, you actually think I should be held accountable for his death. I will never forgive you for that.
Why didn’t I listen to your brother? I’m sorry he died, and honestly there are moments I wish it would have been me instead.
What is it about you, Aeron? Why is it that every time you’re near me, my heart stops? Every time I’m in your presence, it’s like the world tips upside down and the only ones left standing are the both of us. Why?
I’m writing to you from a mental health facility. The Haven, is what they call it. It’s a long story, really. I don’t want to write it all, but I do want to tell you what happened.
I wish I could forget about you, but I can’t.
I’m going to call you tomorrow, and I hope I can get through to you in the jail. I pulled your dad aside and he told me what jail you’re staying at. Please talk to me, because while you’re there and I’m over here, I feel like I need you now more than ever.
/> I wish I didn’t need you, but I do.
I wish you didn’t have a piece of my heart, but you do.
If I had any strength, I’d take it back. But I don’t have any strength right now. So, I’m going to ask you to lift me through this and help me.
Get better, Aeron. Because I need you.
-Mercy-
I wipe the tears off the paper and fold it up. I’ll have to mail it out tomorrow morning. I go against the rules and walk off to my room. I guess things are pretty strict here. I’m probably going to pay for it tomorrow, but I need my space. Today is an overload for me and I just need to be alone.
No one stops me.
When I get to my room, I slip the letter underneath my pillow and grab the tiny calendar Dave bought for me at the hospital before we left.
I open it up and use the pencil to mark off the day.
“Only eighty-nine days left.” I whisper to myself.
I’ll get through this.
I have to get through this.
26
Mercy
Eighty-three days.
Eighty-three days I’ve been in this place they call The Haven, and I’ve never felt better. Although I was depressed and angry when I first got here, I honestly believe it was because I was afraid to face the heavy shit inside of me more than anything else.
Since coming here, I’ve finally been able to grieve my family how I was supposed to. I was able to grieve Aric. I’m still grieving Aric.
When my parents first died, I was so focused on finishing school that I blocked their deaths from my mind. Then I was shoved into a different city with people I didn’t even know, and it was almost easier just to keep them buried deep.
I hoped that boulder of grief in the pit of my stomach would lessen over time, but it never did. If anything, it got heavier. To the point where I couldn’t even take a step without feeling weighed down by the pain.
The only thing that helped was using. Not Aeron, not Aric, only drugs. Aric and Aeron lessened the heavy feeling, sure. But it never fully went away until the Oxy, Percocet, cocaine, or whatever the hell I was taking that day finally ran through my veins like the drug I so desperately craved.