Status: Completed
Psyche
7
When Girlie comes to see Jamie the next day, he immediately asks her Is He home? It takes her a moment to understand who he is referring to, and even then she wants to question why he asked it in a sharp tone. She decides against it, assumes it’s because he’s worn out.
“No, he’s at his own place,” she says. “I told him we need time to ourselves.”
“Oh.” Jamie nods and twirls the IV around his finger. “Can I go home today?”
“Don’t do that. The doctor said you could go home tomorrow.” She smiles and Jamie almost smiles too, till she says the last part. “Give you some time to be at home before you have to leave again.”
Before he has to leave. Jamie turns away from her and looks at the wall. “W-when do I have to go the, um, place?” his voice breaks and he wants her to say he doesn’t have to go there, it was just a misunderstanding.
“It’s called Solstice. We’ll go Friday, and I promise it’ll be fine. It’s a really good place.”
She puts her hand on his back but he doesn’t respond. He bites the inside of his mouth till he taste blood, but the action doesn’t comfort him.
“Fine,” he lies.
******
Tomorrow takes years to come and Jamie is amused at how happy he feels to be back at his dreary home. He expects the house to look different, but it doesn’t. It has the same, stale cinnamon smell to it, and everything is in its proper place.
Girlie says something to Jamie but he doesn’t hear her. He wanders up to his room and sees his bed is still unmade and his cell phone rests on his desk. He stares at it for some time before picking it up, and slowly dials Alexandria’s number.
Her answer tone is different. Some Punk girl-group song bounces in his ear.
“. . . Hello?”
“It’s me –“
She’s sobbing out oh my God, Jamie and I’m so glad you’re okay before he can even tell her not to cry and it’s okay, just calm down. He didn't want it to be this deep, doesn’t want to drag this out. He wants to get to the point of him calling her.
The words sit ready to be spoken. He briefly wonders if he’ll pass out first before saying, “C-can I . . . tell you something?” Breathe in, breathe out. The phone is ready to fall out of his hands.
“Yeah, what’s wrong?”
He can trust her. He knows he can. He trusts her as much as she trusts him. He's not ready to tell her what he is, but he can (he can) tell her about Zack. What he's been doing to him since he was 13. He can do this and he won't take back a word he's said.
He speaks, he cries, and at some parts he can't say anything at all. But he tells her everything, and while it feels like his whole being is breaking, splitting in half with each word and maybe this is a mistake –
It feels terrible, it feels good, it feels heartbreaking –It feels like freedom.
“I’m coming over,” she says, and Jamie tells her to hurry.
“No, he’s at his own place,” she says. “I told him we need time to ourselves.”
“Oh.” Jamie nods and twirls the IV around his finger. “Can I go home today?”
“Don’t do that. The doctor said you could go home tomorrow.” She smiles and Jamie almost smiles too, till she says the last part. “Give you some time to be at home before you have to leave again.”
Before he has to leave. Jamie turns away from her and looks at the wall. “W-when do I have to go the, um, place?” his voice breaks and he wants her to say he doesn’t have to go there, it was just a misunderstanding.
“It’s called Solstice. We’ll go Friday, and I promise it’ll be fine. It’s a really good place.”
She puts her hand on his back but he doesn’t respond. He bites the inside of his mouth till he taste blood, but the action doesn’t comfort him.
“Fine,” he lies.
******
Tomorrow takes years to come and Jamie is amused at how happy he feels to be back at his dreary home. He expects the house to look different, but it doesn’t. It has the same, stale cinnamon smell to it, and everything is in its proper place.
Girlie says something to Jamie but he doesn’t hear her. He wanders up to his room and sees his bed is still unmade and his cell phone rests on his desk. He stares at it for some time before picking it up, and slowly dials Alexandria’s number.
Her answer tone is different. Some Punk girl-group song bounces in his ear.
“. . . Hello?”
“It’s me –“
She’s sobbing out oh my God, Jamie and I’m so glad you’re okay before he can even tell her not to cry and it’s okay, just calm down. He didn't want it to be this deep, doesn’t want to drag this out. He wants to get to the point of him calling her.
The words sit ready to be spoken. He briefly wonders if he’ll pass out first before saying, “C-can I . . . tell you something?” Breathe in, breathe out. The phone is ready to fall out of his hands.
“Yeah, what’s wrong?”
He can trust her. He knows he can. He trusts her as much as she trusts him. He's not ready to tell her what he is, but he can (he can) tell her about Zack. What he's been doing to him since he was 13. He can do this and he won't take back a word he's said.
He speaks, he cries, and at some parts he can't say anything at all. But he tells her everything, and while it feels like his whole being is breaking, splitting in half with each word and maybe this is a mistake –
It feels terrible, it feels good, it feels heartbreaking –It feels like freedom.
“I’m coming over,” she says, and Jamie tells her to hurry.
♠ ♠ ♠
Buoy // The Joy FormidableI know my writing is hardly the clearest, so thank you for putting up with it. You're all lovely.