Troubled Thoughts and the Self-Esteem to Match

Bill

"New block-mates?!" Gabe yelped, incredulous. "Since when did this happen?" He'd only been let out of ISO for an hour and he was already freaking out again over the news. I had almost forgot that he had been in lock down while the talk came through our block about getting new block-mates. Instead of just rumors, it was a solid yes that we were getting two more in block 8. "Who are they?" He inquired, glancing from Danny to Brendon, then me. We all shrugged as we passed a crowd of patients heading for the cafeteria as we were headed away from it. We were already finished with breakfast because we all wanted to be back at the block early to see what was going to happen this morning.
"We haven't gotten names. Mr. Way wouldn't give us that much." Frank explained, pulling his hood tighter to his jawline as a gust of freezing wind embraced us. "He did say, though, that they're from block 3, and that the reason they're coming to us is because we got two transfers from the Ashhart Institute for Juveniles in Iowa that the Administrator wants in 3. Something about how their counselor is the best for what they got in here for."

Gabe gave a minuscule 'hmm' rather than throwing a significant amount of input out into the open for us all to absorb; I figured he would be more talkative having just been in ISO for three days. We were all acting like the night scare incident didn't happen, though Mr. Way had called me into his office both days since it happened for counseling. Gabe hadn't spoken a word about it since it happened either, but he kept giving me these looks ever so often that seemed like he expected me to crumble into dust from how exceedingly fragile I was after the incident. I wasn't.
"So what are they in here for?" I questioned, the thought resurfacing in my brain, the one that said 'what if one of them came here for rape?'. Frank raised an eyebrow at my inquiry; most likely because he didn't expect me to be asking any questions considering I had been there to hear Mr. Way talking about them and knew that he didn't say anything about what they were in for.
"I dunno. How would I know that?" He responded, his tone one that was just asking curiously, but I felt like I could have annoyed him just as well. "I dunno. You just usually know a lot about the New block-mate thing." I answered before deciding to stay quiet after that.

We decided not to stay outside for our morning break because we knew that the new guys would be here soon. Instead, we went back inside and to the Living Room to wait, anticipating what they would be like. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Last time this happened, I gained a great friend in Travis. Maybe this time would be the same situation. I tried not to let my mind go, but it quickly flourished, creating names for them as well as faces. I think I'd conjured the names Cecil and Jeremy by the time Mr. Way came into the room, clearing his throat. We all turned toward the doorway that he was in, he motioning for us to stand up to properly introduce ourselves.
We did as told, I waiting for a complaint or at least groan from Gabe, but nothing came from him. "Guys, come on in." Mr. Way ordered, stepping aside from the doorway and waiting. Two boys walked into the Living Room, one after the other, upon Mr. Way's instructions. At first glance, they looked similar, except the one on the right was taller and looked exceptionally less terrified of us all. The second was about 5'10, with a sand brunette colored hair that was cut into a choppy assortment of locks that framed his face. His hands were locked tightly around the straps of the backpack he had on his back, knuckles white from the iron grip he had on them.
The other boy was watching his block-mate with a knowledge about the boy that we didn't know yet. He had slightly shorter, messier hair that was a dark brown, nearly black. He was maybe 6'0 even.
"Guys, meet Jack Barakat and Alex Gaskarth." Mr. Way introduced, waving a hand between us all and naming us all off for the newcomers to try and remember. Jack was the taller and Alex, the quiet one.
They watched us as Mr. Way named us off one by one and when Danny was introduced, we all expected Mr. Way to go on naming us off, but a very odd occurrence happened.

When Alex's eyes landed on Danny and his name was called out, his already wide eyes belted open wider, a look of absolute terror flooding into his face. Everyone noticed immediately; it was impossible not to. He was automatically burying himself behind Jack's body, distancing himself from Danny like he were afraid for his life or something of that effect. Danny raised a confused brow at the action, glancing around the group in hopes of figuring out what he'd done. Was he really that intimidating to the new guy? Sure Danny was a big boy, but he didn't even hardly look like the kind of guy to beat someone up for no reason.
The Jack guy tried to step aside and turn to stare back at his friend, but the smaller boy clung to the taller's shirt desperately, Barakat understanding something that we couldn't apparently. "Um...Mr.Way is it? Could we go to our room? I think he just needs to get used to being in a new block." Jack assured us, a feeble attempt at a lie when it was more than obvious that this wasn't the case.
Mr. Way allowed it though, nodding his head wearily while giving the two a long, hard glance. They shuffled out of the Living Room and toward the unoccupied room without another word on it, leaving us all dumbfounded. As soon as we heard their door open and shut, Danny was the first to speak. "What the fuck did I do? I didn't do shit to the boy Mr. Way!"
Mr. Way sighed, shrugging his vest clad shoulders. "I don't know. From what I've read about his history, he gets spooked really easily, so you probably didn't do anything."

Gabe decided to pitch a thought into the conversation afterward, suggesting to Danny "Why don't you ask him why he acted so scared shitless when he comes back out later?" Mr. Way interjected though with a "That would be redundant. You should probably know now that Alex doesn't talk."
We all turned our attention from the doorway, where we were still watching since that had been where we'd seen them last, eyes moving to our counselor. "What do you mean he doesn't talk?" Brendon questioned in one of those tones that sounded more like we were discussing one of the most puzzling topics in the universe, though the statement was rather explanatory.
"He doesn't speak to anyone. Their former counselor says that he might say one or two words every now and then if he was lucky, but other than that, he just writes what he wants to say in a notebook."
Frank butted in and cut Gabe off before he could say what he was going to about this so he could have the chance to query "But why does he do that? Is he tongue-less or something?"
Mr. Way paused to shake his head at the dumb statement but gave just the slightest bit of light on the information before deciding that was enough insight for us, informing "Sometimes when people go through very traumatic experiences, they lose their psychological will to talk. It's not a matter of 'you don't know how'. It's a matter of 'you can't bring yourself to'."

After explaining that, he told us all to either sit in the Living Room and wait for them to join us, or go knock on the door and invite them to hang out with us. We all decided that the television was calling our name. We all found a way to fit on the furniture surrounding the television as Brendon put it on some stupid reality show about a bunch of sickeningly tanned and promiscuous Jersey dwellers.
"I'm from there." Frank uttered aloud in a mixture between proud and home-sick for the state, which made me think; I had never actually considered where the rest of the group had lived before here. "Where did everyone live before coming here?" I asked suddenly as I was considering it, catching everyone's attention.
Gabe was the first to answer, proudly boasting "I'm originally from Uruguay, but I lived in New Jersey before I came to the fuck-up bin."
Brendon answered next with a so-so "Nevada. Ryan too." He turned to flash a quirky grin at his partner upon saying this, as if to speak the words 'who would have known that we lived so close and never met until we came to this place."Michigan. Man I miss that place." Danny reflected as well, followed by Travis who answered with a simple "Florida." Bob was the last to speak, reluctant in doing so but revealing that he'd lived in Illinois.
I couldn't help but perk up just a bit. "I lived in Illinois too." I responded, he nodding like he didn't get what was so great about that.

There wasn't anything great about it either. I just liked knowing that I wasn't the only one here that came from Illinois. It felt kind of nice knowing just that little bit more about everyone, no matter how ineffectual the information seemed.

It wasn't until two commercial breaks later that we heard a door open and shut down the hallway. Most of us turned and watched the doorway, wondering if it was Mr. Way moving about, or one of the new guys. Jack appeared though, answering our question. He paused momentarily, an awkward expression enveloping his face upon realizing that we were all waiting for him.
"Um..What's up?" He inquired in one of those 'I'm trying to break the ice so talk back,' kind of ways.
As he propped himself up against the threshold of the doorway, Brendon decided to be the spokesperson for us, responding first. "Not much really. Like this block okay?" This inspired a bit of a chuckle from him upon the thought of actually liking any of the blocks, which was a ludicrous thought.
"About as blocks get, I guess." He motioned to the t.v. with a nod of his head afterward, querying "What are you watching?"
He moved then, coming over to the area of furniture and plopping down in the unoccupied sofa chair like he had known us for months. I was secretly grateful for that, at least one of the new block-mates being social and easy to talk to.
"Um, Jersey Shore. It's about all that's on." Frank explained, and Jack was about to speak again, but Danny seemed unable to contain it any longer.

"Not trying to offend you by asking, but what the hell was that a few minutes ago? Did I do something to scare your friend?" Danny practically growled, eyes locking onto Jack like he was going to get even more peeved if he didn't get some answers. Obviously, he'd grown frustrated by now and couldn't let it go.
Jack gave a minute shrug of his lanky shoulders, hurrying to assure Danny "It's nothing about you, man. He has anxiety issues and sometimes bigger guys just scare him. It's not like he's trying to piss you off, I promise."
Danny gave a quirk of his eyebrow that said 'if you say so, okay, but I still don't like it', before Jack added "Just give him some time and I'm sure he'll settle down."

"Speaking of him." Frank butted in, leaning forward on the couch to get the new guys attention as if just speaking wasn't sufficient enough. "Is he awake? I want to go say hi to him."
"I told him to come out here too. He was putting his clothes in his dresser and then he was going to come out here, actually." Frank was alerted, so he sat back in his spot, waiting. I wanted to welcome the other as well. He seemed like he needed someone to say a few nice words to him, whether he would speak back or not.

No sooner than an announcer on a television commercial was talking about a medicine to help get rid of untimely gas problems, Gabe leaned forward and let out a shameless fart in contrast.
I couldn't really believe how disgusting and piggish he could be sometimes. "Gabe!" I screeched, batting at his shoulder frantically. "You are so disgusting, you know that? We just get new block-mates and you're showing your ass in front of them in less than an hour." He turned to face me, disbelief swirling into his pupils upon hearing me say this.
"How am I showing my ass? I just farted. That's a natural bodily function so why should I hold it in?"
A laugh emanated from Jack, who waved it off. "It's fine. In my other block, I always held down this guy named Josh down and farted in his face when he pissed me off."

I mentally slapped my forehead. Great. Another one. I could already picture He, Gabe, and Danny sitting in a circle having contests to see who could fart the loudest. Just as long as he kept his gas away from me. Making myself change the subject, I wondered what the two were in here for. Maybe it was something small like Vandalism, or somewhere along those lines. There was really no telling though.
The sound of the door opening and shutting again down the hall let us know that Alex was finally deciding to join us. We waited, once more, for him to come into the room too. We heard his light footsteps padding on the carpet as he slowly moped into the room, stopping several feet behind the couch. "Come on." Jack motioned for him to come stand beside him and say hello to us, like a decently socialized person.

We watched him round the couch and sit on one of the arms of the sofa chair, eyes staying tacked to the only person in the room that he knew instead of us. He had a small, deep red leather encased notebook clasped tightly in his hands, at least half of the pages looking warped with writing. That must have been his means of communication.
I couldn't help but notice that for some odd reason, the backpack he had showed up with was still around his shoulders. Had he forgotten that he was toting it around or something?
"They're nice, okay?" Jack muttered in a low tone to the other, locking gazes and telling him he needed to say something to us.

We all watched, slightly confused by how strange it was, as he opened his notebook up to a clean page and found a pen in his bag. Oh. So he still had the bag on purpose. He pressed the tip of the pen to the paper and scribbled out a quick note, proceeding afterward to hand it to the other. "He says hi and he's sorry because he can be hard to put up with sometimes." Jack conveyed to us, though he paused to give Alex a gaze full of 'now you know that's not true' before he read the last part.
"It's no big deal." Frank waved it off vigorously as to not allow the boy to think we disliked him because of the awkward first impression. "You seem way easier to put up with than these dumb-asses, really. Don't worry about it, okay?" He tossed in with a snort, his words reminding us of who the dumb-asses were; primarily the ones who got put on ground for a week because they peed on girls, ran naked through the facility, and punched security guards.
Alex went back to writing a response to Frank, jotting out a mouthful for Jack, who took a breath and read. "He says: I get really easily freaked out though. It's part of my anxiety issues I have."

I felt bad just sitting here listening to this. The poor boy was using the put-himself-down routine to introduce himself to us, and I didn't much like it. I didn't want to say anything about my own problems because just thinking about it caused the sensation of warmth crawling up my neck, but I felt it necessary. "I h-have anxiety issues too. It doesn't make a person hard to put up with."
His wide eyes shot to me for a waning moment, he absorbing the words for several seconds before writing more for Jack.
"Is that what you're in here for?"

I felt like sinking down into the couch cushions upon hearing this question. I knew he wasn't trying to be nosy; he was just trying to connect with someone who he thought might be in the same situation as him, but I wish the question wouldn't have been asked.
I could feel the others watching me, waiting for me to say something back too. I could tell that they knew how uncomfortable I was, and it was, in a way, the spur of courage I needed to say it.
"I tried to commit suicide, actually." I revealed, and watched as his face was consumed by an overwhelmed looking shock. Jack even looked moderately shocked himself. Had Alex tried the same thing?

He hurried to scribble what he was wanting to say back and tilted the paper to Jack. "Why?"
My throat constricted around the dry air it was trying to take in. I still wasn't very comfortable saying it, especially not after the night terror I'd had about it, but he seemed to be connecting to me like he was needing to hear my story.
"Um...W-well, I was raped...and it really screwed with my head."
They seemed to grow even more shocked hearing this, but there was an evident change in Alex after hearing this, like it wasn't what he had expected me to say for some reason.

"I'm sorry to hear that. That's terrible." Jack read from the paper before Alex closed it, gently placing it in his bag and replacing it on his shoulders. He motioned to his room and stood, leaving as simply as that.
That couldn't have been any weirder at all. No one spoke for at least thirty seconds after but my mind was a live wire. He was such an strange boy and I was now interested to know his back story. What had he gone through that was so horrific that he stopped talking?