STORY NUMBER 2
TITLE: WHEN LYING TO YOURSELF NOLONGER WORKS
I wake up and stumble through my room to the bathroom. Fumbling to close the door I start the shower and strip down. Stepping into the shower, I’m met by the steam and the sting of hot water. I stand under it, letting the water cleanse me. It never works. It never fucking works.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Condition. Rinse. Soap Up. Lather. Rinse.
I step out of the shower and a shiver runs up my spine. Grabbing my towel from the back of the door. I smell mildew and musk as I dry…it doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t matter to me. Wrapping the towel around my waist I head back to my room, now fully awake. I flip on the light and cross the room to my closet. Walking in, I survey the clothes that have either been gifts, found, or bought…mostly the former two. I quickly dress. Nondescript plain grey tee shirt, faded jeans, a brown belt, and white canvas shoes.
Back in the bathroom I survey myself. I step closer to the mirror and look at my face. Tan, somewhat defined. Fake. I pull my long hair back behind my shoulders and look again. Pink lips. Blue Eyes. Both ears double pierced, an Industrial through the right. My hands reach up and explore my features…as if they are new. It finds the cut that runs along my jaw. I cringe as I touch it. Memories flood back.
A night. Just a regular night. Nothing sinister, nothing scary. Walking out of my office towards my car. I fumbled my cellphone, dropping it. I reach to pick it up. A rough hand grabs the back of my neck and pulls me down. I fall and am dragged face down to a van. I try to scream, but no sound comes out…No sound comes out.
Shatter. I come back to the present. My mirror is in pieces, laying all over the granite counter top. Like tiny glittering stars on a pitch black sky. I stare at my hand. There is no pain, yet shards of glass stick out of it. I calm begin to pick them out, cleaning the cuts when I am done. I calmly walk out of the bathroom, through my room, into the living room, grab my keys, and walk out the door.
Stepping outside the first thing that I feel is heat. Heat that threatens to suffocate me. I walk briskly to my car and crank the air conditioning. Driving thorough town, it still doesn’t feel different. I stop to get my morning tea…even though it is late afternoon. I canceled most of my patients today…I’m sure they will be just fine self-medicating themselves on the thoughts I prescribe. I sip my tea as I wait for the traffic to move. As I drive I see the city in a different way. I see the cute little store fronts, the specialty stores, the deli’s and the book store. I see the eaterys, the clothiers, the stationary stores, and the head shops. I see the great monolithic library made from clean and utilitarian white marble and oddly enough my gaze travels to the worn and tired payphone. There is a kid leaning up against it. He looks sad, alone, torn. I stop. I stare. I roll down the window.
Hey Kid! You Need Help?
He walks towards the car and looks at me. I realize how odd this must be, It’s odd enough for me to stop, but It’s odd for him because I’m the elite. Or I must look it, In my white Mercedes Benz. What would I want with a waif? He just stares.
Why?
His simple answer startles me. Shocks me back into my mind. I unlock the door.
You look like you could use some help.
His eyes widen, shock settles in. He reaches for the door handle and gets in. I drive towards the hospital. He stares out the window.
Where are we going?
I look over at him.
Were going to my office so I can pick up some files, then back to my house.
I smile, reassuring him.
Okay.
All he said. A simple affirmative. I stare at the road. Drive. Drive.
I leave him in my when I go into the hospital. I smile to the receptionist and make my way to the elevator. As I step out to my floor, my assistant meets me.
Here are the files you requested sir.
I smile at her. Always efficient.
Thank You, Melinda.
She smiles back.
Your Welcome, Sir.
We travel down the hallway into the main psychiatric ward and into my office. I grab my laptop and a few more file.
Is there anything else your going to need sir?
No, Melinda…thank you, you may go home for the day if you want.
She smiles, this is a first for her.
Thank you sir, I’ll do just that.
She turns and leaves.
When I’m sure she’s gone, I reach into the third draw and take out a small teak box.
I walk out of my office, and out of the hospital.
Hey buddy? Do you wanna go get something to eat?
I look over at the boy.
Sure.
I smile. Another one word answer.
Anywhere that sticks out to you?
He furrows his brow. His mind racing, he cannot even remember the last time he hadn’t eaten at a shelter. We sat in silence.
Well…How about we go to Zach’s? They have really good food an I know a bunch of people there.
He nods.
Okay, sounds good.
I parked the car in the lot and we walked into my favorite restaurant. Zach’s. It was at one time the talk of the town. A classy steakhouse with quite the selection of exquisite wines. Now…it was a steakhouse that was aging, it still had great food, but the exquisite wines had been replaced with exquisite people.
Hey Ryan!
An older man at the end of the bar yells across the bar.
Hey Chuck!
I wave.
We slide into a booth and Jess comes over.
Hey Ryan! And who is this cute friends you brought today?
I just realized that I have no clue what the kids name is.
He responds.
Justin.
She smiles.
Aww! Cute name! Ryan, I got your drink order. What do you want baby?
Umm…could I get a coke?
Of course! I’ll be back In a minute boys!
She bounces away.
I look over at the boy. He seems somewhat relaxed.
Hey Justin…so I have a question for you. I know We just met today and all, but I’m not sure if your homeless or what…but if you are, I was wondering if you wanted to stay with me?
He considers this. I can see a million questions race behind his eyes.
Yes. I am homeless. And I guess I could try out living with you. My parents died a very long time ago. I’ve been living on the streets since then. Now I know your name is Ryan…but What do you do? Where do you live? Why did you stop to help me? Do you have animals? Who are your friends? Why did you stop to help me. WHY DID YOU STOP TO HELP ME?
I pause as Jess sets down our drinks. She leaves.
For the first time since this morning I breathe deeply.
Well, I am a Psychiatrist, I specialize in Addiction and Adolescent psychiatry. I live right on the coast, In a house that is way to big for just me. I do not have animals, but I love them. My friends are the people you see here and Melinda, my assistant, James, a fellow doctor, and Kelsey, a fashion designer. Honestly, I think the reason I stopped to help you is because you remind me of myself. And you looked like you needed help. And you looked sad, lost, torn, angry. You looked like you had the heaviest weight on your shoulders. You looked like someone I once knew. You reminded me of all the people I couldn’t save. You made me think that perhaps there was hope in the world. You looked like a kid who was in danger. You looked as if you belonged in a better place. No one belongs here more than you Justin. No one.
His face goes from confused, to annoyed, to touched, to radiant. He smiles at me. He sits up straight. His dirty grey hoodie hangs off his shoulders.
Thank You.
And he disappeared.
Some say he was an angel. But I put no stock in that. Jess said that I had just hallucinated from stress. Melinda, smiled and turned in her resignation the next day. Kelsey said that something similar happened to her. Personally, I don’t know what happened. I am no Theologian. I am no Quantum Physicist. But I learned something. Lying to yourself never works.
I wake up and stumble through my room to the bathroom. Fumbling to close the door I start the shower and strip down. Stepping into the shower, I’m met by the steam and the sting of hot water. I stand under it, letting the water cleanse me. It never works. It never fucking works.
Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Condition. Rinse. Soap Up. Lather. Rinse.
I step out of the shower and a shiver runs up my spine. Grabbing my towel from the back of the door. I smell mildew and musk as I dry…it doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t matter to me. Wrapping the towel around my waist I head back to my room, now fully awake. I flip on the light and cross the room to my closet. Walking in, I survey the clothes that have either been gifts, found, or bought…mostly the former two. I quickly dress. Nondescript plain grey tee shirt, faded jeans, a brown belt, and white canvas shoes.
Back in the bathroom I survey myself. I step closer to the mirror and look at my face. Tan, somewhat defined. Fake. I pull my long hair back behind my shoulders and look again. Pink lips. Blue Eyes. Both ears double pierced, an Industrial through the right. My hands reach up and explore my features…as if they are new. It finds the cut that runs along my jaw. I cringe as I touch it. Memories flood back.
A night. Just a regular night. Nothing sinister, nothing scary. Walking out of my office towards my car. I fumbled my cellphone, dropping it. I reach to pick it up. A rough hand grabs the back of my neck and pulls me down. I fall and am dragged face down to a van. I try to scream, but no sound comes out…No sound comes out.
Shatter. I come back to the present. My mirror is in pieces, laying all over the granite counter top. Like tiny glittering stars on a pitch black sky. I stare at my hand. There is no pain, yet shards of glass stick out of it. I calm begin to pick them out, cleaning the cuts when I am done. I calmly walk out of the bathroom, through my room, into the living room, grab my keys, and walk out the door.
Stepping outside the first thing that I feel is heat. Heat that threatens to suffocate me. I walk briskly to my car and crank the air conditioning. Driving thorough town, it still doesn’t feel different. I stop to get my morning tea…even though it is late afternoon. I canceled most of my patients today…I’m sure they will be just fine self-medicating themselves on the thoughts I prescribe. I sip my tea as I wait for the traffic to move. As I drive I see the city in a different way. I see the cute little store fronts, the specialty stores, the deli’s and the book store. I see the eaterys, the clothiers, the stationary stores, and the head shops. I see the great monolithic library made from clean and utilitarian white marble and oddly enough my gaze travels to the worn and tired payphone. There is a kid leaning up against it. He looks sad, alone, torn. I stop. I stare. I roll down the window.
Hey Kid! You Need Help?
He walks towards the car and looks at me. I realize how odd this must be, It’s odd enough for me to stop, but It’s odd for him because I’m the elite. Or I must look it, In my white Mercedes Benz. What would I want with a waif? He just stares.
Why?
His simple answer startles me. Shocks me back into my mind. I unlock the door.
You look like you could use some help.
His eyes widen, shock settles in. He reaches for the door handle and gets in. I drive towards the hospital. He stares out the window.
Where are we going?
I look over at him.
Were going to my office so I can pick up some files, then back to my house.
I smile, reassuring him.
Okay.
All he said. A simple affirmative. I stare at the road. Drive. Drive.
I leave him in my when I go into the hospital. I smile to the receptionist and make my way to the elevator. As I step out to my floor, my assistant meets me.
Here are the files you requested sir.
I smile at her. Always efficient.
Thank You, Melinda.
She smiles back.
Your Welcome, Sir.
We travel down the hallway into the main psychiatric ward and into my office. I grab my laptop and a few more file.
Is there anything else your going to need sir?
No, Melinda…thank you, you may go home for the day if you want.
She smiles, this is a first for her.
Thank you sir, I’ll do just that.
She turns and leaves.
When I’m sure she’s gone, I reach into the third draw and take out a small teak box.
I walk out of my office, and out of the hospital.
Hey buddy? Do you wanna go get something to eat?
I look over at the boy.
Sure.
I smile. Another one word answer.
Anywhere that sticks out to you?
He furrows his brow. His mind racing, he cannot even remember the last time he hadn’t eaten at a shelter. We sat in silence.
Well…How about we go to Zach’s? They have really good food an I know a bunch of people there.
He nods.
Okay, sounds good.
I parked the car in the lot and we walked into my favorite restaurant. Zach’s. It was at one time the talk of the town. A classy steakhouse with quite the selection of exquisite wines. Now…it was a steakhouse that was aging, it still had great food, but the exquisite wines had been replaced with exquisite people.
Hey Ryan!
An older man at the end of the bar yells across the bar.
Hey Chuck!
I wave.
We slide into a booth and Jess comes over.
Hey Ryan! And who is this cute friends you brought today?
I just realized that I have no clue what the kids name is.
He responds.
Justin.
She smiles.
Aww! Cute name! Ryan, I got your drink order. What do you want baby?
Umm…could I get a coke?
Of course! I’ll be back In a minute boys!
She bounces away.
I look over at the boy. He seems somewhat relaxed.
Hey Justin…so I have a question for you. I know We just met today and all, but I’m not sure if your homeless or what…but if you are, I was wondering if you wanted to stay with me?
He considers this. I can see a million questions race behind his eyes.
Yes. I am homeless. And I guess I could try out living with you. My parents died a very long time ago. I’ve been living on the streets since then. Now I know your name is Ryan…but What do you do? Where do you live? Why did you stop to help me? Do you have animals? Who are your friends? Why did you stop to help me. WHY DID YOU STOP TO HELP ME?
I pause as Jess sets down our drinks. She leaves.
For the first time since this morning I breathe deeply.
Well, I am a Psychiatrist, I specialize in Addiction and Adolescent psychiatry. I live right on the coast, In a house that is way to big for just me. I do not have animals, but I love them. My friends are the people you see here and Melinda, my assistant, James, a fellow doctor, and Kelsey, a fashion designer. Honestly, I think the reason I stopped to help you is because you remind me of myself. And you looked like you needed help. And you looked sad, lost, torn, angry. You looked like you had the heaviest weight on your shoulders. You looked like someone I once knew. You reminded me of all the people I couldn’t save. You made me think that perhaps there was hope in the world. You looked like a kid who was in danger. You looked as if you belonged in a better place. No one belongs here more than you Justin. No one.
His face goes from confused, to annoyed, to touched, to radiant. He smiles at me. He sits up straight. His dirty grey hoodie hangs off his shoulders.
Thank You.
And he disappeared.
Some say he was an angel. But I put no stock in that. Jess said that I had just hallucinated from stress. Melinda, smiled and turned in her resignation the next day. Kelsey said that something similar happened to her. Personally, I don’t know what happened. I am no Theologian. I am no Quantum Physicist. But I learned something. Lying to yourself never works.