Blighted Soul

“It’s nice to see you, Evan,” he says warmly. “I heard it was your birthday yesterday.”

“It was,” I say neutrally.

“How did that go?”

“Pretty well. They let both my brothers and Caleb bring me a cake. They even let them stay after hours.”

“That was very generous of them.”

“It was.”

“How old are you now?”

“Fifteen.”

“How did you feel about spending your birthday in a rehabilitation center?”

“I wish it was elsewhere, but what can you do?”

“How are you and Caleb doing?”

“Good. I think I make him sad, though.”

“Why’s that?”

“He doesn’t like seeing me in here anymore than I like being here. But there’s nothing either of us can do about it right now.”

“Not right now, but once you’re out, you just have to make sure you don’t end up back here.”

“I know.”

“What about your brothers? Anything about them different?”

“I…don’t think they like me in here either. They act the same, but I can feel the tension, you know? It’s like we’re walking on thin ice. It’s been like that for a long time now.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“Like it’s all my fault. And it is. We could have recovered from the death of our parents, eventually. But then I had to mess it up by lying to them, doing drugs, and trying to kill myself.”

“Let’s talk about that.”

My fingers fly to my marred wrists. My gut wrenches painfully. “No, please,” I say. My voice comes out more like a whine. Sensing my utter unease, he gives me a knowing look.

“Okay, some other time.”