Group Sessions

I have a story to share, one that I am actually willing to share with the world. Maybe because it’s not really mine, I mean I am in it, but I am more of a co-star. No this story is more about Kevin then it is about me. About how he saw the world during those days, the things he wrote in private and how he changed my life forever. But enough with the dramatics, let’s start with the day of third session with the group, the day Kevin first stumbled into my life.

I sat in my room, wondering why my parents decided to force their sociophobic daughter to talk to a group of strangers every week. This had to be a new form of torture of that much I was sure. My speakers were screaming with the voice of Vic Fuentes, lead singer of my favorite band. This caused my father to pound on my door and yell at me to turn the noise down. I didn't, I never did. I grudgingly pulled my black sneakers on, knowing that if I didn't go to this thing; they would only proceed to make my life worse. So in order to avoid such a fate I would grin and pretend after every sessions until I would move out from their home. Which thankfully wouldn't be long from that very moment.

I pulled myself out of bed and crammed my iPod into my pocket and placed the headphones around my neck. I walked down the stairs and my parents were arguing about which one of them was the reason why I was such a mess up. So everything was the usual in the Lander household. My baby brother squealed in high chair and threw food at my mom who then proceeded to cry and run upstairs. My dad sighed and I managed to slip out unnoticed. Not that that was a surprise, I was almost always unnoticed.

I contemplated blowing today’s session off but I didn't with the fear that the lead would call my parents out of faux concern and get me in trouble. So I dragged my feet the whole way to the community center at the center of our town. I had my headphones in my ears, blasting the same band as usual when I walked into the session room. Twenty chairs were laid out in a cliché circle with only four bodies in scatters seats. I was always early to group; I wanted to give my parents one less thing to complain about. At the time in the room were, Taylor, the bulimic, Sasha, the girl with anger issues, Derek, the arsonist, and Blake, who suffered with a bad case of psychosis. He was my kind of guy, well at least that’s what I would joke to myself every time I saw him.

I sat in the seat the furthest away from where the lead sat; I never wanted anything to do with that guy. I slumped down in the chair, pulled up my hood, and raised my music the highest it could go. This is how I spent the majority of my sessions, not any more eager than anyone else to share my life with a room full of strangers. Especially not when those strangers are as screwed up as I am. Unaware to what’s going on I didn't notice our new member stumble into the room, but I did notice when he pulled a headphone out of my ear.

“I love this song.” He put the headphone into his ear, and started doing an air-guitar and bobbing his head.

I was too shocked at the time by his rude behavior to do anything but stare at him. So naturally I took in his long creme colored fingers with short bitten down nails at the end. I think it was the white scars that ran up his arms like a striped pattern that really made me wonder about him long past the session. He was muscular at the time, and his long black hair was an unruly mess, probably from all the drinking. He looked up at me with blood shot sapphire blue eyes, the dark shadows underneath them causing the eyes themselves to stand out that much more. His pale pink lips, where swollen from being picked at, or perhaps kissed. He lashes were thick and full, he mouthed along to the lyrics oblivious as I continued to stare at him. There was a faded rope burn on his cream colored neck, with a burn mark peaking out of the collar of his black v necked shirt. When the song was over, I pulled my headphone away and placed it back in my ear, never saying a word to the strange boy.

He stayed next to me for the whole session, when he was forced to talk I lowered my music to catch his story. His name is Kevin; he is a twenty-two year old college drop out with passion for liquor, his words not mine. He didn't want to be here, said he didn't need help, that’s what he cut for. The group all laughed at his joke, expect for the lead, who was not amused. The lead then used his irritatingly gentle voice, to tell Kevin that that kind of humor was not acceptable in this environment. Kevin sat down while saying, who’s joking, causing a second uproar of laughter. The lead was pissed, you could tell but he would never show it.

I remember thinking; hey this Kevin kid may not be that bad. Afterward everyone was staring at me, waiting for me to speak up today, so I thought let’s give them little something. I mean Kevin's joke put me in the mood to share just a tidbit about myself.

“I am Lisa and I’m crazy.”

My music went back to full blast and I ignored the rest of the session. The played some hot potato game which involved talking about feeling I am sure. No one dared to pass the object to me, which pleased me greatly, I had said enough for one day. When the session was over the lead leaked bs praise for everyone’s progress today even beaming at me. He pretended he was looking forward to next week, and I lagged behind in the hallway. Never in a rush to go back to that cold shell of a home. I almost jumped when someone tapped on my shoulder, I later found out Kevin had to stay after group due to his comments earlier. But in the moment finding him behind me was quite a shock. I pulled out my headphones curious as to what he wanted from me.

“Don’t worry Lisa,” he said leaning in close to me, the smell of alcohol clinging to his, well everything, “we are all crazy.”

Then he walked out of the center with a flask in his hand humming the song that he had heard with me earlier. I smiled at what he said, at the time I wasn't sure why but later I would find out, in the moment all I knew was that he had just tired to make me feel better. That is all that mattered to me; for once someone was trying to build me up without trying to change me. I walked out of the front doors a few minutes after him, with the grin still on my face. It would last through a dinner of pizza and screaming with my "family". It would last through the nightmare filled night and into the break of day. Even then I knew that something was about to change.