11 Slit My Wrists
Dr. O’Neil left me to unpack my suitcase. As soon as the door shut, Victoria decided to approach me. Finn was leaning over the dresser while I unpacked.
“I hate him for sending me here,” I mumbled under my breath.
“Don’t. He’s trying,” said Finn.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get your phone back,” Victoria said with a dash of smugness. “What are you in for?”
She was much shorter than me and her red hair reminded me of Emmy’s after a bad dye job. For a second, I was homesick for Pittsburgh.
“I didn’t do anything. Not that’s it’s any of your business. Excuse me.” I pushed her away from my face.
“Sure you didn’t. That’s what everyone says, but we know better, don’t we?”
“I didn’t do anything. I don’t know what’s gotten into my father.”
Victoria went back to her bed and sat cross-legged. “Want to know what I’m in for?”
“Not particularly.”
“Okay, if you must know, I got busted for coke.”
“Drugs?” I was not going to indulge her curiosity by telling her about my indiscretion with prescription pills, that was for sure. I’m stuck with Ms. Ginger-cokehead. Just what I need.
“So, what are you here for? Alcohol? Heroin?”
“Do you mind?” I said, not looking at her while I shoved my clothes in the drawer.
“Okay, ‘I don’t-do-drugs’ priss, you must’ve tried to kill yourself, huh?”
“No, I didn’t.” God, she was annoying.
“You sure, Sis?” Finn said.
I rolled my eyes. “Shut up.”
Victoria stared at me like I was the freak and not her. She continued to enlighten me on her sentence at Oakridge.
“Anyway, my boyfriend took his father’s gun, okay, and blew his own head off. It was right after we had a fight. Can you believe that? I told him I wanted to break up. I never thought in a million years he would do something so stupid over me.” Victoria’s eyes welled to the brim with tears. “Ethan ran out of the house carrying his dad’s gun. His parents went after him but it was too late. They heard the gun go off and found him lying on the ground with his brains splattered all over the woods behind their house.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Aw…now you feel sorry for her. This is way too much like a Lifetime movie for me. I’m out of here,” Finn said before he disappeared.
“Yeah, now my parents think I’ll either OD or slit my wrists.”
“Are they right?”
“Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe.” Victoria shrugged her shoulders, put her earbuds in, and walked out of the room. I stood there for a couple of seconds, then turned and followed her.
It was almost five p.m. There weren’t very many kids here, unless they were hidden somewhere. The kids I did see all looked normal enough, like any kids you’d see at in-school suspension or detention. Nevertheless, they all had a little secret. It was scary to think that these kids, along with me, were so messed up.
12 Looney Bin
Victoria pushed through the recreation area ahead of the other kids, picked up a cue, leaned over the polished wood of the pool table, and stroked the stick like she was a pro.
“Eight ball in the corner pocket.” She gave me a smile.
“Okay, really?”
Was she for real? I mulled over the idea of joining her, even though I sucked at pool. Playing was better than feeling sorry for myself. I picked up a cue.
Neither of us spoke, taking turns shooting until Victoria picked up the cue and pointed to the girl sitting on the couch, spaced out. “That’s Harley Davidson. Yeah, the only way her daddy was ever going to get close to owning a Harley was to name his kid after one. They’re piss poor.” Victoria let out a roar of laughter.
“That’s mean. I like her name… Is she always spaced out like that?”
“She’s been that way since she got here. And she has another problem: she cuts herself. Don’t ask me why.”
Harley looked pathetic. Her long, mousy brown hair hung tangled around her face. Her eyes gave her away. She kind of reminded me of that psycho girl in The Breakfast Club.
Hunched over her pool cue, Victoria whispered, “Look there––the boy at the table drawing on the sketch pad. He’s Dustin. The boy is seriously screwed up. No one is sure why he’s here, but in the group, he claims he’s been abducted.”
“Abducted? Someone kidnapped him?” I said, not taking my eyes off Dustin. I sensed something innocent and lost about him. He reminded me of a small child gone astray in a crowded airport.
“That’s one way of putting it.”
I jerked when a bell sounded.
“It’s the dinner bell.”
She led me to the dining room resembling a miniature of the huge one in the Harry Potter movies—minus Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore. Tonight’s main course was blood-red roast beef. It stirred up a memory of Lucien. My stomach turned. I still didn’t have an appetite; the food was gross. I picked up a dinner tray and followed Victoria through the line crammed with hungry teenagers. Now they come out. I settled next to Victoria at the far end of the table, scanning the room. Even though the tables were full of kids, there was so much loneliness.
“If you’re not going to eat that, hand it over. I’ll eat it.”
I pushed my plate toward her and watched her ravage her dinner and mine. I excused myself and went into the living room. I found a spot on the couch, passing the time until the last bell sounded, which signaled lights out. The thought of spending three months here because of the void left in my heart by Lucien made me so depressed.
13 Why
Sleep seemed better than mulling and wishing I were home. I made my way back to my room. What was my father thinking? In a million years, I never imagined I’d be sharing a room with a cokehead.
The door was cracked open enough to see Victoria changing into her PJs. I guess she wasn’t modest. I didn’t like the idea of changing in front of anyone. I took a pair of shorts and a tank top from my drawer, my old pink terrycloth robe that Dad had packed, my toothbrush, and walked down to the lavatory.
The brightly lit shower room had a tiny changing area with only a curtain separating it from a line of toilets and sinks. I pondered the idea of stripping down to take a shower. Not tonight.
***
In a matter of seconds, I was dressed and had stuffed my clothes in my duffel. The faster I got out, the better. Down the dimly lit hallway, I scooted back to my room. One by one, the lights shut off behind me. I could’ve sworn someone was watching. Suddenly, a shadow danced on the wall. I looked around, but no one was there. I still felt someone’s penetrating gaze. Taking a deep breath, I hurried my step. Samantha, you’re imagining things. No one is here. I chanced another glance behind me. There was Dustin. For a moment, I was relieved. Then he disappeared.
***
By the time I made it down the hall, my room had the only light on, casting an eerie shadow all around me. I was relieved to find Victoria already sleeping. I climbed into the small bed, my resting place for the next three months. How I missed my canopy bed and my soft sheets. Now my body lay on uncomfortable sheets. I wished I were back home. While under the covers trying to sleep, I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Shadows made lonely company when the only company I wanted was Lucien’s. If only I could feel his presence one more time before I fell asleep, but that would never really hap-pen, except in my dreams.
14 Dusty
I woke to a bell sounding the beginning of a new day. This day was no better than the day before. Waking up in a strange room with another human being gave me the heebie-jeebies. It was awful.
I gathered what I was going to wear for the day. I was at my dad’s mercy; luckily, he had some fashion sense. I
took out a pair of jeans and a black sweater. When I was just about to put a leg in my jeans, Victoria sat up in her bed. She still had her earbuds in. She pulled them out and squinted in my direction. I hurried, pulling up my jeans, and gave her a quick morning acknowledgment and trudged to the dining room for breakfast.
***
The early morning sun shined through the skylight as I passed by the sunroom. I walked into the dining room, scanning the freaks in the room. I guess I am one of the freaks now.
My appetite still hadn’t come back, but I’d kill for a maple and brown sugar Pop-Tart. Wouldn’t you know it? They’re not allowed on the menu. No sugary foods permitted. According to Dr. O’Neil, they stimulate cravings for addictions. The only thing I was addicted to was Lucien, and I quit him cold turkey. Three months without Pop-Tarts? Seriously?
I took a tray from the breakfast buffet, standing behind the same boy I thought I had seen the night before in the hallway. He turned around and looked me square in the eye.
“What?” I finally said, irritated.
He turned around, ignoring my question. I caught him stealing a look at me again. He wasn’t a very tall boy, and he could really use some protein to fill out his lanky build. His emerald green eyes reminded me of a gray tabby I once had as a little kid. I noticed he had a scar on his left cheek. Mustering some courage, I took hold of his Army jacket, giving it a slight tug. He innocently turned in my direction.
“Do I have something hanging out of my nose or something?”
“Uh, no,” he said.
“Then why do you keep staring at me?”
He watched me with anxious eyes but said nothing. Okay, so he’s strange. I decided there was something about him I liked. I filled my tray up and walked to a spot by the window, away from everyone else. Dustin, who was beginning to burn a hole in my forehead with his eyes, held his tray tightly in his hands. He walked like someone was going to take it away from him and sat down at the far end of the table.
He kept watching me eat. Being just as rude, I had an impulse to smile at him, so I did. I guess he took it as an invitation. He got up from his seat, gripping his tray for dear life, and sat down facing me on the other end of the table.
“H-Hi. I’m Dusty.”
“Hey, Dusty. I’m Sam. I would tell you my last name, but we’re not supposed to, but since I really don’t care for this place, Samantha Hunter.”
Dusty raised his green eyes and smiled. “Katz.”
“Where?” I flashed a look around.
“N-No, my l-last name is Katz,” he chuckled at my mistake.
“Oh, okay. Pleased to meet you, Dusty Katz.”
“A-Actually, it’s D-Dustin, but everyone calls me Dusty.”
“Dustin’s too formal. Dusty it is. So, how did you end up in a place like this?”
“My parents p-put me here six months ago.”
My eyes widened. “You’ve been here six months? What did ya do, rob a bank?”
“I’m n-not supposed to talk about it outside of the group,” he said as he chewed his eggs.
“Wow, six months.”
“No big deal. It’s better than home.”
“It is?”
“It’s not so bad.”
“I thought three months was long. How did you get that scar on your face?”
He covered his cheek with his hand. “It’s a long story. Your eyes are different. They sparkle like diamonds.”
“Long story,” I said, feeling laughter rise in my throat. It felt so good to laugh. I couldn’t remember the last time I had. Once I got a grip, I grabbed my juice, gulping to stifle my cough.
“Are y-you okay?”
I nodded and kept drinking.
He leaned in close. “I was hoping you would have come sooner. Y-Y-Your eyes are j-j- just like in m-m-my dream.”
“Come again?”
“I’ve been w-waiting for you.”
Suddenly, a voice rose from the breakfast line. It was the girl with shoulder-length, stringy, brown hair and black makeup smeared under her chestnut eyes. She was screaming, throwing food everywhere.
I plunged to the floor with Dusty right behind me. We both ducked out of the dining room and scooted out into the hallway, laughing.
“That was a close call.”
He removed a piece of dried-up yolk from my hair, then we strolled over to the sun-room. Dusty went up to the window and peered out at the shining sun melting the icicles from the gutters.
“What were you mumbling back there? Something about why I hadn’t come sooner?” I asked.
“I’ve been d-dreaming about you coming for a long time.”
“You have? Wow, how weird.”
“The w-weatherman said t-this is the first winter of its kind for A-Albuquerque.”
“It is. You dreamt of me? How so?”
Dusty turned around. “The bell is going to sound for group. Your room’s on the same floor as mine so you’ll be in the s-same group with me.”
“Where’s group held?” I asked, not wanting to go.
“Right h-here.” He looked at the chairs in somewhat of a circle in the sunroom. I heard a bell signaling group therapy was going to start. One by one, the kids in this group staggered in.
15 Group
The group totaled five kids, including myself. Finn didn’t count even though he was sit-ting on the bench near the window. Victoria sat down between Dusty and me. Riot Girl pushed up a chair. Harley, the cutter, followed suit, putting her shoes on the back of my chair. Annoyed, I inched forward. Glunk. Her feet hit the ground.
“Bitch,” she muttered.
I turned around, letting her know I had heard her. She glared at me but said nothing. I folded my arms across my chest and faced forward. I had a feeling that group therapy would not be good.
Dr. O’Neil came in last with a stern look on her face, holding a clipboard. She sat off to the side and had each one of the others introduce themselves to me. Victoria went first, then the girl with the piercings. Her name was Nicki. She kept staring at me with a what-the-fuck-are-you-looking-at look. I tried not to stare back, but she’s the kind of freak you can’t help but look at.
Harley introduced herself next. The whole time she sat there, she used her fingernail to try to carve something into her skin. Dusty was the last to introduce himself. When he was finished, he lowered his head like he had decided to take a quick nap.
O’Neil had just started to speak when a boy with wiry, dirty brown hair, blue jeans that hung down past his boxers, and a black hoodie came in. I immediately noticed his black fin-gernails, brown eyes, and dark black eyeliner. I tried not to gawk, but it was impossible.
“Dayton, glad you found time to join us,” Dr. O’Neil said, raising her tone. “Okay, everyone’s here now. I want to pick up where we left off yesterday. Dusty, you were telling the group why you’re angry at your father for not believing you about what happened to you at your backyard campout last fall.”
Dusty’s eyes landed on me.
“Continue where you left off,” Dr. O’Neil said.
“Uh huh.” Dusty cleared his voice, all eyes on him.
It seemed he was asking for my approval. Confused, I nodded in his direction.
“A-after I told my d-dad what happened, he th-thought I was making it up.”
“Don’t tell them, Dusty,” Finn yelled out.
I tried to ignore that.
“Why do you think your father would think that? Did he give you a reason, Dusty? Have you lied to him before?”
“N-No, he never b-believed anything I said.” Dusty lowered his eyes. “Even after I was c-c-covered in black tar, he still didn’t believe me.”
“Dusty, that’s not what your father told me. He said you were always making up stories.”
“That’s not true!” Du
sty’s face turned crimson in a matter of seconds. He looked back at me. I couldn’t believe doctor O’Neil was being so cruel.
“Dusty, why so defensive if you’re not lying?” O’Neil persisted.
I’d really like to know where she got her medical degree.
Dusty hung his head and began to cry. What a bitch. I couldn’t sit there and watch this. It was insane.
“Dusty, crying isn’t going to explain why your father thinks you were lying. Where did he think you got the black tar from?” Dr. O’Neil asked. She was merciless and not going to let up on him.
“Geez, he’s such a wuss,” Finn said.
“I would n-never make th-that up. E-Everyone else was s-sleeping. Th-They didn’t see the light outside the t-tent get b-bigger and b-bigger or h-hear the h-howling noise.”
The more Dusty explained what he had seen, the worse his speech became.
The others started to laugh at him as he stumbled on his words. I watched Dr. O’Neil. There was something dark about her expression, like she was enjoying herself.
“I was s-so scared I just l-lay there p-praying it would go away. N-No one else heard the howling or saw the l-light but me,” Dusty said, his voice cracking.
This can’t be a coincidence, can it? A light?
“That’s b-because you m-made it up, you stuttering ps-psycho!” Dayton yelled.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Sure, you didn’t, Dusty, I believe you,” Nicki said, lowering her leg to the ground. “But I also believe in the Easter Bunny.” She and the others burst out laughing.
“Do you smell that? Something smells like it’s burning,” Harley spat out.
“Holy shit! Did you see that?” Finn chimed in.
“Dayton, your shoe!” Victoria pointed to Dayton’s DC sneakers. His shoelaces were smoking.
Dayton jumped from his chair, knocking it over. Then the garbage can engulfed in flames.
Equinox (Beyond Moondust Trilogy Book 2) Page 4