The moment I stepped off the plane, and smelled the familiarity of smoggy California, my stomachache came back. I had to stop for a minute, bend over and try to get myself together. Eric got real worried and shit, asked me if I needed something. I forced myself to stop it, to be mature. “No, its fine,” I’d managed. “I‘m fine.”

He rolled his eyes at me and took the small bag I’d been carrying from me. “Right.”

“Can we just go?” I probably should have been a little nicer, considering he’d missed his daughters birthday to go down to Florida and hang around my stupid ass for three months. But I didn’t care at that point. It was, of course, all about what Justin was feeling at that point. But really, when isn’t it? Going down to my dad’s for three months was supposed to help me discover who I’d be come and what I was going to do now that my life has changed so drastically. It was supposed to help me feel better, get rid of the stress…

But all it really did was make me realize how much of a selfish person I’ve always been, and what a monster I’ve turned into.

I had a long talk with Steve before I flew home, about what happened that day we went fishing. I don’t even know if he understood half the shit I explained to him. Despite the fact that he loves to act older than he is, I know he’s still a little too young to comprehend just how scary the kidnapping was for me. And as far as Shane goes, he may as well have never existed, because I‘d never discuss him with my brother. It would have traumatized the kid and well…I figured he’d experienced enough shit for one year. I basically just told him that my temper had gotten really short since I’d gotten ‘hurt’, and that I was sorry. Of course he forgave me, hugged me, and begged me to stay. He said he was sorry he’d gotten mad, and he knew it was his fault that I was leaving. Yeah, I probably should have expected that, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. I‘d made my own brother blame himself for my pain. And he…he was just a kid. I didn’t even know what to say to him. I just gave him a real long hug, and tucked him in before telling him goodnight..

I ended up leaving for the airport earlier than I said I would. My brothers were still asleep. I didn’t say goodbye. I know that’s horrible. I know that when Steve woke up he probably cried, and I also know that Jonathan probably told him to stop being a baby and that it didn’t matter that I wasn’t there, because I didn’t love them anyway. “We don’t need him anyway.“ He probably said. Yeah, I’m almost positive of that.

My father ended up driving me to the airport that morning, and while I should have been happy that he wanted to see me off, I wasn’t. I would have been fine if they’d called a car service and Eric had sat in the front with the driver to make sure he didn’t try to smuggle me out of the country or something. But no, my dad had sent Eric on his way the day before, telling him that he wanted to have a little time alone with me before I flew home. I could have gotten mad and said no, but that would have been kind of disrespectful, and I’m really trying to work on being less of an asshole. Still, the ride to the airport was anything but normal or comforting. I felt like I was being interrogated because all I heard was ‘you have to try and talk to me about what happened sometime, son., and ‘your mother thinks it’s a good idea if you open up to me.’

I didn’t want to fucking open up to him. I didn’t want to talk about it. I’d talked about it and talked about it until I was blue in the face, to everybody that I thought should know. It didn’t get me anywhere. It only brought me more pain and sadness, and in the end…I ended up losing two of the most important people in my life because of it. Kerri…god, I know what happened to her. I know what I made her do, and I know that I hurt her and I cant go back and I cant make up for it. Its better if I never see the girl again. And I knew if I started to get into all of that with my father, he either wouldn’t understand or he’d just try and pretend to and make me feel even more uncomfortable.

“I cant talk about it.” I’d told him, through gritted teeth.

The rest of the car ride was silent. I know I really upset my dad and stuff, and I’ll be lucky if he invites me back out here for Steven’s birthday in a couple of months…not that I’d go anyway. But I wasn’t about to be pressured into talking about what happened to me. After the last time…after Kerri, I promised myself that I’d just try and forget about it. I mean, I have Madison and I have my mom and if I really need to talk about it I will. But its just better for me if I shut the hell up and move on with my life. Yeah.

Fuck. My father hates me.

My mom met me at the airport, that big ‘I missed you so much’ smile spread across her face. I felt like crying a little. It had been three months and I hadn’t really spoken to her much on the phone. Hugging her felt really really good, it filled me up with a warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time. I felt almost…safe, standing there in her arms. She knew everything, and she understood everything. For once, I was comfortable, and I think that’s why when we got in the car and Eric started to drive us up into the hills I was able to fall asleep on her shoulder. Maybe that’s lame and childish, but I don’t really care. At that point I hadn’t slept in a few days, and it was really starting to effect me in a bad way. I don’t really remember what happened when we got back to my house. I guess I was so exhausted that I didn’t pay attention to getting out of the car or getting upstairs and collapsing onto my bed. All I know is that this morning I woke up, still kind of exhausted but knowing that I was as refreshed as I was going to get.

I’ve been sitting in my room for about a half hour, letting my daily dosage of anti depressants seep in before I go downstairs to face my mom. I hate to admit it, but ever since all that shit happened with Kerri and Trace I can’t get up and face the world unless my meds have kicked in. It’s sick that I’ve succumbed to subtance control. It fucking aggravates the hell out of me that I’ve basically lost that aspect of my independence. But I think I owe it to my mom and the few people left in my life who still give a shit about me, to keep myself in line. I sigh, rub my face, and yawn a little. I’m okay. I can do this. I get up, yank on some sweats and an old tee shirt, and then I make my way downstairs. When I reach the bottom I can hear voices. One is my mom’s, but the other I’m not so sure about. I try to analyze it as I make my way towards the living room, but I just cant do it. And then I see them sitting there, talking and laughing like I don’t even matter.

There’s some strange girl sitting on my sofa, talking to my mother, and I have no idea why.

“Oh hey,” my mom smiles at me when she finally spots me in the archway. “You finally woke up, sleepyhead.”

I keep staring, waiting for her to get to the damn point. Yeah, I love my mom, but right now I’m confused. Confused and…scared. I hate strangers. More importantly, I hate strangers that are in my house. I mean, what if she goes through my shit? What if she find my journal and reads it? What if she’s really a psycho that wants to take me somewhere and lock me in a basement? Suddenly I feel like picking the girl up and tossing her ass out of the house on my own. But then…

“Justin this is Melanie. I thought that things would be a little easier on you if you had some help around the house for awhile.”

It literally takes every ounce of strength I have in my body to keep from screaming at my mom, but somehow I manage to pull it off. I revert my gaze over to what’s her name, wincing a little…those terrifying thoughts overwhelming me all too quickly. To anybody else she would seem harmless I’m sure. She looks like one of those nice, quaint suburban girls. She doesn’t look me directly in the face when she says hello to me, and I’m sure its because she’s either shy or fucking terrified. I used to be flattered by this kind of stuff. I used to let it get to my head, make my ego bigger. Back then I would go over there, sit right next to her, smile, and say ‘hey what’s up girl.’

But that was the old me. The old me that’s long gone.

“Hello.” I don’t smile.

“Come sit.”

My mom pats the spot next to her on the sofa, but there’s no way in the world I’m about to sit near a complete stranger. I mean, what planet is she on? She knows about everything, she knows even the smallest things freak me out for days on end. Is she losing her mind? Or is she just trying to force me into moving on with my life so she can move on with hers? I cant deal with this. Not today…not ever. I just want to go back up to my room, make myself fall asleep, and forget about what’s happening in my own house. I start to turn around, hoping that I can make a run for the staircase, but then I hear my mom call out my name again and I feel too guilty to walk away. I flash her a forced smile and make my way over to the recliner that sits beside the long couch. She gives me a look as if to tell me she’s disappointed, but I don’t really care right now. I’m uncomfortable, really uncomfortable, and that’s the most important issue right now.

Well at least it is to me.

I sit and stare into space while my mother and the strange girl make conversation. I can hear her laughing and the part of me that’s still a little insane wants me to believe she’s laughing at me. That she can see right through me. That she knows the horrible things I’ve done, the horrible things that happened to me. I want to curl up in this chair, wrap my arms around myself and close my eyes…shield myself from her, from all of the demons that just wont go away. But…but I cant do that. I have to be ‘on’ right now. I have to act like I’m okay with her being her. Like it doesn’t bother me. Like I trust her. Fuck, I feel like I’m going to throw up. I feel myself begin to tremble. I let my mind wander some more, and then…well fuck…

Then I wish Kerri was here, because I know she would know exactly what to do.

I miss her. I cant lie to myself and say that I’m done, that I’ve forgotten about her. I havent, not in the slightest. Hell, I love that girl. I’ve always loved her, and I just…I guess I just didn’t know how to handle my feelings for her. Sure, I knew right after I fucked up the first time that we were better off as friends. I was okay with that. I was okay with the fact that…I was going to have to work at getting our friendship back on track. But I was a cocky son of a bitch then and I figured she couldn’t possibly hate me. And like, the minute I let her in my car that day on the way to the bakery I was so sure she was going to give in. That we were going to work shit out and be friends just like we always were. I was so close…so close to having everything thing in my life exactly the way I wanted it.

And then Shane happened.

“How does that sound, Justin?.” I don’t know why my mothers voice is suddenly grabbbing my attention. Really, I’m not interested in anything that’s going on right now. But I guess it’s my brain’s way of telling me that I’ve thought about Kerri enough today, and that even though the current situation is extremely uncomfortable, it’s a hell of a lot better than remembering what I put Kerri through. So I give in. I look at them. I look at…whatsherface sitting on my sofa. I allow myself to wonder what she’s all about briefly. Why does my mom trust her? What’s her real purpose here? I don’t have those answers though, so I just stare. Stare and try to think of something….anything I can point out to make my mother think twice about keeping her around. What could it be? I…damn it. I cant find a damn thing wrong with the girl. It makes me angry. So angry that I have to get up and walk away before I lash out at somebody.

“Where are you going?” I hear my mother say.

“Out.” It’s a grunt and nothing more. I knock the back door open with a rough punch and hear it slam shut behind me. It doesn’t calm my nerves. I guess that was kind of an asshole-ish thing to do. I mean, deep down I know my mom is only trying to help. She cares about me, and she’s been worried sick since this whole ordeal began. I know I should understand and be grateful that she gives a damn but its just like I said, I cant deal with this kind of shit right now. I just need to sit outside and think…try to calm down. I’ll figure this girl out, I’ll give it to her straight…let her know that I don’t need her around, and then she’ll leave. I mean, I may be a freak but I’m still as intimdating as ever. And hell, I’m Justin Timberlake….

I‘m so lame.

I go out to the backyard and take a seat underneath my favorite tree. I lean my head back against the trunk and the tension seems to leave me almost immediately. I breath out a sigh of relief, and also realize I was unconsciously holding my breath the whole time I was sitting in the den with them. I need to stop. It’s not fun being an unsociable butthead all the time, but I just don’t know how to act anymore. I’m afraid to let anybody too close to me. I’m afraid they’ll hurt me, or think I’m weird. But I guess the thing I’m most afraid of is…hurting them, because I really cant afford to ruin anybody else’s life right now except my own.

After twenty restless minutes of trying to clear my head, I finally succeed. I feel my mind start to drift. My eyes get heavier and heavier, and I feel a little smile find its way onto my face. I start to think about how nice its going to feel to have a little nap, because man, I never take naps anymore. Yesterday was the first time in months that I was able to do it. I was proud of myself. I even called Madison to tell her about it but…I just got her voicemail. I felt stupid. It was like, why would she care anyway? She’s got fucked up psychopaths breaking down her door every day for therapy sessions and she certainly doesn’t need me pestering her about my sleeping habits.

I don’t think I’m going to call her anymore after this week. I think I may have reached the point where I can handle shit on my own again. Yeah, it’s probably time to move on, or hell…just try really hard not to look back. After Kerri, I really latched onto her for awhile. I guess I felt she was the only support I had. I started calling her in the middle of the night because I’d wake up terrified from some disgusting nightmare. I think that may have turned her off because she seemed hell bent on getting me out in the open again after those phone calls. She told my mom that I needed to experience “new things”. But I really think she was full of shit. I think it was just a nice way of saying ’nice knowing you Justin, but after careful analysis I’ve come to realize that there isn’t a cure for a freak like you’.

Well, screw you Madison.

“Justin….”

It’s not the woods anymore. There’s no house, or mulch, or Shane and his fucking smile. It’s bright here, sunny. I can hear the birds chirping and the breeze blowing through the leaves of my favorite tree. I reach up to rub my face, and it’s soaked with sweat. I’m trembling, maybe even crying a little. I don’t even know what happened. I guess I was sleeping. Sleeping, right. It was just another dream. A dream.

“Are--are you okay, Justin?”

Now I’m looking up…at her. At whatsherface, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this angry. I want to throw her into a wall for catching me this way…at my weakest. And if it wasn’t for the fact that my mom is still sitting in my living room, I really don’t know what I’d end up doing to her right now. Thank god for small miracles I guess. “What the hell are you doing out here? Nobody is supposed to come out here.”

“Oh--well I--” She looks down and starts to pick at her fingernails. “Your mom was getting a little upset so I told her I’d come out and check on you,” she says quietly.

I could snap this girls emotions like a twig and it almost makes me smile, but I control myself. She’s afraid of me, terrified probably. Who knows why or how she even got talked into working for my mom. I mean, at this point I don’t even care anymore. She’s probably some friend of a friend who had no job and needed the money, and I’m sure my mom is paying her a hell of a lot to put up with me every day. I think it might be amusing to see how far I can push her, since I really have nothing else to do with my time except watch The Price is Right and surf the internet until my eyes are popping out of my skull. Sure, she can stay. It’ll give me something to do. Something to keep me sane. I mean, I’m not saying I’m going to bond with her or anything. I doubt I’ll even talk to her all that much. But I know I can’t talk my mom out of this right now. She’ll feel a lot better knowing that somebody she trusts is around the house, making sure I don’t slit my wrists or whatever the fuck she thinks I’m going to do. Yeah, I guess I should make the best of this, in my own little fucked up way. “So, you’re basically kissing her ass then?”

She stares at me like I just killed somebody.

“Damn it‘s like--,” I pause and put a finger to my lips in thought. “Who cares about Justin’s privacy as long as you’re getting that nice pay check right?”

“You have a lot to say for somebody who doesn’t know a thing about me.” It’s almost a whisper but she doesn’t hesitate to look me in the eyes as she says the words to me. “I’m willing to try, so maybe you should too.”

I scoff and rise to my feet, dusting off the rear of my jeans as I do so. “I don’t need to listen to you,” I snap. “And I’m not attempting to make any kind of connection with you. I mean, stay if you want to but you better keep your distance from me when I’m around.” I flash her a confident, cocky smile and brush past her. I think she might respond for a moment, and when she doesn’t I look back over my shoulder. Her shoulders are sagged in obvious defeat, and she’s still facing the tree. If I could see her face right now, I’m sure she’d look just like Kerri did when I used to let her down in the past. I quickly feel myself become choked up at the thought of it, so I jog into my house as fast as I can so I can try to shake off the feeling.

I grab a soda and chug it, all the while trying to muster up a ‘kiss ass’ mood for my mom so she wont think I’m such an ungrateful little asshole for the rest of the afternoon. Then I find her in the den, sitting there on the couch, notebook spread out on her lap, but she’s not even looking at it. Her head is in her hands, and fuck, I know she’s crying. She doesn’t know I’m watching her though, because I’m sure if she did she’d snap out of it quick. It makes me want to run up to my room and hide from her for the rest of the day, but then logic comes into play and tells me I better give her some fucking respect. I sigh, and run a hand across my shaven head. “Momma.”

Her head snaps up so quick I’m afraid she might have given herself whiplash. Her mascara is running a little, and god…I wish I knew how long she’d been crying. When whatsherface told me she was upset, I figured she was just brooding. I didn’t…I didn’t think she was actually sitting in here crying over me. What the hell? I bet it was whatsherface’s fault…yeah. I bet she was sitting here putting all kinds of bullshit thoughts into her head. Forget what I said. I want her out of here. I don’t care about being able to torment her anymore. I want her out of here before she ends up convincing my mom to put me back in the nut house.

“Oh…” she laughs a little and wipes her eyes a little. “Hi, Justin. I didn’t even know you came back in. You need anything?”

I give her a knowing look, and sigh heavily before I sit down next to her on the couch. “You’re sitting here crying.”

“Oh don’t be silly,” she rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “You know how my allergies act--”

“Momma,” I whisper it this time and take her hand. “Please don’t do this.”

She frowns and pulls her hand out of mine. “What would you like me to do, Justin?”

She looks me directly in the eyes, and finally, I’m forced to come to terms with her feelings. She looks so…exhausted, and worried, and just…fed up. I’ve been such a wreck all this time, that I haven’t been able to really sit down and realize what’s been going on with her. I know she’s been putting up with a lot of bullshit on my part, because I’ve been so stubborn and withdrawn. But I guess I just didn’t want to accept the fact that I was upsetting her this much.

“Mom--”

“No,” she shakes her head roughly. “Let me get this out.”

I sit back, a serious look making its way onto my face, wiping away any cockiness that might have been left over from my little rant with whatsherface. “All right.”

“I’ve tried everything, Justin. I’ve gotten you the best doctors, the best care that I could find to help you through this. For awhile you were getting better too, and then…I don’t even know what happened. You just slipped away again. Not to mention the fact that Trace wants nothing to do with you, and he’s probably the only one who could really get through to you in the first place.”

She’s not as sad now. No, because now she’s getting angry. Almost, accusing. Like it’s my fault she’s in pain. Like it’s my fault Trace can’t handle my moods and shit anymore. Well it’s not my fault. It’s all Shane’s fucking fault, but nobody seems to want to put the blame on his shoulders. I’m sure he’s laughing about that right now too, that mother fucker. “I never said you had to kill yourself to help me, mom.”

She slaps a hand on her thigh harshly, and narrows her eyes at me angrily. “I’m your mother. You don’t ask me to help you when you’re in pain. It’s a natural reaction, Justin.” She presses her fingers to her temples and closes her eyes. “I can’t do this anymore. As much as I love you, and you know I do, I can’t be here twenty four hours a day to make sure you don’t hurt yourself. I hired Melanie so she can be here when I can’t be. So I can know what goes on when I’m not around. Maybe that’s an invasion of your privacy, but right now I just can’t trust you. Your father said he doesn’t even know you anymore. That you were acting like some kind of withdrawn zombie the entire time you were down there. You still need help, and the only other alternative I can think of is asking Madison to readmit you--.”

“Damn it, mom!,“ I grit my teeth, and try to hold back the rage that I know is about to come pouring out of me. I hate this. I never yell at her like this. Never. If I was all right, if none of this had ever happened I wouldn’t even think about using this kind of tone with her. But just…she acts like I’m a fucking child and I’m not. I’m a victim, and I cant help it if I’m messed up beyond repair. “I’m not going back there and you can’t fucking make me!”

She crosses her arms and shoots me a commanding look. “Then Melanie stays, and you’re going to be accommodating to her.”

“The fuck I am,” I grunt. “I‘m a grown man and this is my house.”

It’s quiet after that. I think I’d say more but really, I’m kind of in disbelief that I would dare to treat my mom this way right now. She’s the last one that gives a damn. The only one that’s willing to sacrifice herself for me out of the goodness of her heart. And now I’m pushing her away too. Fuck, I’m going to lose her. Then where the hell will I be? Nowhere. Just alone. Alone in this house with nobody to stop me from doing the inevitable. But hell, maybe I am better off dead. Sure, people might be sad but at least I won’t be able to hurt them anymore.

She rises off the sofa and places her hands on her hips, staring me down like I’m the worst person in the entire world. “Are you cutting yourself again?”

I’m silent. It’s not like the thought hasn’t crossed my mind. There have been times, most of them recent, when I’ve been in so much pain that I’ve been itching to do it just so I could calm myself down. Something stopped me though, and really, I still have no idea what it was. Maybe the part of me that’s determined not to let Shane win took over me. Maybe I just knew I couldn’t let myself start in with that psycho bullshit again. Hell who knows. At least I didn’t do it. But…at the rate I’m going, its very likely that I could start again. “If I tell you no, you won’t believe me,” I whisper. “You don’t believe anything I tell you.”

“I’d believe you if you would just be honest with me a hundred percent of the time, Justin,” she sighs. “You never tell me how you really feel. You just force a smile, kiss my cheek and reassure me that you’re okay. It’s getting old, and I’m not stupid.”

I don’t really know what else to do, so I get up from the couch and pull my mom towards me in a warm embrace. “I’m not cutting,” I whisper in her ear and rub her back gently before pulling away from her so I can look in her in the eye. “I swear, mom.”

She nods a little, and I can tell that she knows I’m not lying. That’s a good thing I guess, but I know it doesn’t mean I’m off the hook. She’s still terrified for me, and I know the best thing I can do right now is give into her wishes and tell her I’m okay with whatsherface staying here to look after me. I don’t know though. I really don’t know. I don’t trust that girl. I don’t trust anybody. And I know I’m not going to be comfortable with the thought that she’s roaming around my house, or could be watching me while I sleep at night. God I mean, who knows what her real intentions are? She could try to touch me or something and then I’d…I’d probably thrown her into a wall. I wince a little.

“Just give it a week or two,” my mom says, running her hand down my cheek. “Please Justin, just try it for me. If you’re really that uncomfortable with her after a couple of weeks, you can pack up and move back down to Tennessee with me. How does that sound?”

She knows how I feel about moving back home with her. After Kerri’s accident she wanted me to, but I told her I just couldn’t do it. As weird as it is, I have a lot of issues going back to my hometown right now. It brings back too many memories of Kerri, Trace and…the incident. Hell, I know I couldn’t go down to the plaza where Nate took us from without having some kind of weird panic attack. It makes me sad because I really miss home. I miss the people there that I never see anymore. I miss my Nana and Papa and Trace’s family too. I try to tell myself that these feelings wont last forever and in a year or so I’ll be able to go back home with no problems at all…

But then I snap back to reality and realize that I’m full of shit.

“Justin, look at me.”

I do, and its only then that I feel the hot tears streaming down my cheeks. “I can’t go back there,” I say, with a soft shake of my head. “It’s…it’s too much.”

She chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “Kerri did it.”

I back away from her and cross my arms. “I’m not Kerri.”

“I know that,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. I just…I can’t fathom why you’re so afraid of going home. I know things happened that were awful, but Justin…that’s your home.”

“I know you don’t get it,” I tell her, turning my back towards her so she cant see how badly I’ve started to cry. “I don’t expect you to, mom. Look, I’ll…I’ll deal with this. Melanie can stay if that’s what you really want. If that’s what’s going to keep me from being completely alone….if that’s what’s going to keep me from having to go back to Tennessee, I‘ll do it.”

“It’s your life, Justin,” I hear her say. “I’m not trying to tell you how to resolve your problems, but I do feel that I should be able to play a part in helping you. Pushing me away isn’t going to do anything but make you more miserable, and right now I’m not exactly sure what else I can do.”

I don’t answer her because I’m too upset. I just want to be left alone so I can try to sort out all this crazy shit in my head. A minute later I hear the back door open and close again and I know she’s gone outside. I’m alone now, so I let myself sob a little bit. I usually don’t admit to myself when I really need somebody to latch onto, but right now I’m so pathetic that I will. I need a friend, I realize. I’ve never needed one more. Unfortunately for me though, I’ve pushed the people that used to care so far away from me that I’m sure they’ve moved on by now. Yeah they’re off somewhere else, living their own lives without me.

And I’m sure they’ve never been happier.

*****************

I’ve almost packed my bags twice in the past hour. The second time I actually got my big suitcase half full of clothes, before I collapsed onto the bed in a fit of defeated sobs. As much of an asshole her son has turned out to be, I can’t bring myself to turn my back on a sweet lady like Lynn Harless. She seems so desperate for somebody to help Justin out, and she seems so alone. I know what its like to feel alone and helpless all the time, so I figured trying to stick it out for a week would be decent of me. At least if I realize that I cant handle Justin’s attitude in that span of time, I wont’ feel so guilty about leaving because I’ll know that I tried my best

I’m sitting on the front steps of Justin’s guest house, watching as he hugs his mother goodbye in the driveway . I feel bad, because I can see how close they are now and they both look so sad. When Justin stormed off earlier, Lynn basically just burst into tears while I was sitting there. It was awkward, because I was already uncomfortable with Justin’s less than friendly attempt at saying hello to me. I didn’t really know what to do for her except sit there and watch her cry for fifteen minutes. It came to a point where I started to see my own mother sitting there crying because she didn’t know what was going on with her daughter. It made me think back to the person I was five years ago. How withdrawn and scared I was. How I didn’t want a single living soul to find out the horrible thing that happened to me. I was horrible then…angry, moody. I’d scream at my mother for no reason at all, and no…she had no fucking clue what was wrong or what she could do to help me. And Lynn had been so nice to me, so open to having me come work for her when she barely knew me at all. I hated to see her going through that kind of pain, and I wanted to fix the problem.

So I offered to help out.

Going outside to try and coax Justin out of his foul mood probably wasn’t the best decision I could have made, but it was the only logical idea that had come into my mind at the time. I told Lynn I’d go out and try to mellow her son out a little bit, and even though deep down I knew it probably wouldn’t help things much, Lynn seemed eager for me to follow through with the idea. Besides, it was my job to try and fix Justin‘s attitude. I was going to be the one dealing with him one on one every day, making sure he was eating, taking care of himself, and not withdrawing from the rest of the world. I guess I also felt I owed it to Lynn to prove to her that I was really here to help, and not just to get a paycheck every week.

My going out to touch base with Justin seemed to calm her down a little bit, and that made me feel really good. I guess I got a little bit too confident. I thought that if I could mellow Justin’s mom out, that I could do the same thing with him. I got a rude awakening however, when I found him out there by that tree. His eyes were closed, and I was pretty sure he’d fallen asleep. He was struggling though. I knew he was dreaming but…it didn’t look good. He was shaking, and whimpering a little. I knew he was scared, and it sent chills through my body. Those memories…they started to take over me again, so I felt I had to snap him out of it before I lost my composure. I’d shaken him a little, enough to jolt him out of his nightmare. He’d stared at me for a few moments, seemingly shocked that I would dare to disturb him while he was going through that. I’d asked him if he was okay, but of course all I got was a snappy, cocky response from him. It was obvious he was embarrassed that I’d caught him in such a vulnerable state, but really…he didn’t have to be so damn nasty to me. If he appreciated his mother as much as she made it sound like, I’m sure he would have understood why I’d gone out to see him in the first place.

Of course he didn’t want to hear anything I had to say, so I just stood there and took in all his vulgarities and put downs. He’d been smiling at me at certain points, over accentuating all of his ‘confidence’ so I would think there was absolutely nothing wrong with him. Of course I could see right through the act. I knew what was lying underneath that paper thin layer of cocky boldness he was thrusting in my face. It was a terrified young man who had no idea how he’d hit rock bottom so quickly, and had no idea how he was supposed to get his life back on track. I didn’t point any of that out to him of course. I didn’t want to upset him by telling him I knew his attitude was a bunch of bullshit he was thrusting in my face to protect himself. So I let him walk away. I felt somewhat defeated of course, especially because he’d told me to stay out of his way when he was around…like he could hurt me or something. I guess that scared me a little bit too. Even though its been five years, I’m still extremely cautious when it comes to being around men. I don’t trust them, and I’m even surprised I let myself accept this job position. But I knew if I didn’t my own mother would worry about me. She’d tell me that it had been long enough and I should be able to trust people more…especially since I’d received such great group therapy.

And I just…I can’t let her down anymore. I can’t be that horrible person anymore.

I guess it’s why I didn’t allow myself to pack my bags and leave. Granted, Justin was really nasty to me this afternoon, and I can only imagine how he’s going to treat me as time goes on. But I don’t want to be a quitter. For once I really want to try to be that confident person I used to be before I was raped. I don’t want to be afraid anymore, I don’t want to look over my shoulder every time I walk down the street. I want to be nonchalant about things again, not paranoid, not terrified. I want to just be. And if that means dishing it right back to Justin when he decides to be an asshole, I guess that’s just what I’ll have to do. I don’t feel sorry for him. I can’t. I know he went through something terrible, but…I’ve been there. I’ve probably been through more pain that he’ll ever know, and so…I have no reason to feel sorry for him. Let him play his games, let him say what he wants.

I refuse to let it affect me.

“Bye Melanie!”

I look up and see Lynn waving to me from the driveway, so I quickly force a smile for her and wave back. “Take care! Don’t worry about anything,” I yell back. I can see Justin out of the corner of my eye, standing off to the side. His arms are crossed, he’s shooting me the look of death, and Jesus, it’s practically burning a hole in my skin. I don’t let myself falter though. I keep that fake smile plastered on my face and give Lynn a final wave as she gets into her car and drives away. Now I’m left with Justin. He hasn’t moved from his spot, and…he’s still staring at me. I’m assuming he thought I was going to give up after his little temper tantrum…

Points for me.

“Should I start dinner?” I ask him pleasantly.

But he doesn’t answer. He just kicks over a patio chair and storms back into the house, slamming the door closed behind him. I stare at the door for a few minutes, half expecting that he’s going to come back outside and scream at me about something…but he never does. I realize that he’s not going to either. He’ll just stay in the house and brood for the rest of the night, and I know it would be best for me to just stay out of his way until tomorrow. Then he wont have a choice, because I know that the house has to be cleaned…it’s a damn mess.

I didn’t want to say anything about it to Lynn earlier, because I felt bad. But I know she was thinking the same thing I was when we walked in the door and saw all the clothes and pizza boxes thrown around the place. It was apparent that Justin didn’t give a damn, and I knew all too well why he hadn’t hired somebody to come and clean up after him. I wasn’t really hired to be Justin’s maid either, but I can’t work in that kind of a mess. It’s just disgusting and I refuse to do it. I’d ask Justin to help me clean, but I know he’d probably spit in my face or something…so I’ll just do it. It will make the day go by faster and I’m sure it will keep Justin out of my face for a little while. In fact, I’m hoping that if I clean the house he may even get a little curious and start warming up to me a little. Yeah it’s kind of far fetched to think that way, but I really have no other way of getting him to come out of his shell. He’s just scared, I know that…and it’s going to take him awhile to get used to having somebody else around.

It makes me wonder what in the world happened to his friends. I’m sure he had a lot at one point. I guess this thing has made him so closed off to the world that they just couldn’t deal with it. Of course that means that they couldn’t have been his real friends in the first place…but I don’t know. Somebody in Justin’s position doesn’t keep all that many people close to him as it is. I’m sure they were very loyal people, and it makes me sick to think that his attitude got so bad that they just decided to give up on him. But I guess he’s not the same person he was before all of this happened to him. He can’t be.

It’s really sad, but for the first time since I arrived here today, I’m beginning to understand just how alone Justin Timberlake really is. And…I just don’t think I can help him.

I don’t think anybody can.

**********************

“So it says here that you went to NYU?” She barely glances at me as she reads the information off of my resume. In fact, other than when I first walked into her office, she‘s barely looked at me at all. I’m not surprised though. She’s the head of one of the biggest rock stations in California, and from what I’ve been told she’s not exactly the nicest person in the world. It’s not like I expected her to be any different though. The music industry is a cut throat business, and most of the people in it are stuck up, arrogant idiots who would stab you in the back before thinking twice about it. I‘m used to it though. I can deal. Lord knows after Justin, I can handle pretty much anybody.

“I did,” I clear my throat a little and sit up in my seat. “I majored in communications, and I hoped to get a job at a radio station once I graduated.” I’m uncomfortable. This is the part of the interviews I always dread. The part where they ask why I haven’t had more experience.. Why I never had a full internship my senior year, or hell, why I didn’t graduate properly. I never really know what to say. Most of them have no idea who I am or the tragedy I was involved in, so that leaves me with a choice. Do I tell them the truth? Do I freak them out with my horrible story about how I was kidnapped and traumatized for three days? Or do I just bullshit, make up some phony lie?

This is the fifth interview I’ve had so far this month, and I’m sorry to say that I’ve lied at every single one of them. Not that its helped me any. Nobody wants to hire a communications major without experience. And the one promising interview I did have, fell through when they saw how badly I limped around their office. They actually called me the day after they’d told me I had the job and said that they were “sorry” but I ‘wasn’t cut out for the pace they were looking for’. I was disgusted with myself. I cried. I just wanted to curl into a ball and die because I felt like I was such a failure. Of course Trace was there, and he consoled me even though I barked at him to leave me alone. He said he wanted to help, that he could ‘put a good word in’ for me at a radio station he has connections with. I told him no. I don’t want help. I don’t need Trace and his damn connections. I mean, fuck, this is my life and I need to make it work by myself. I need to find a job on my own. I need to find a place to live on my own. Trace doesn’t get that. He says I still have things I have to ‘settle’ and that I still need ‘a lot of help.’ I’m tired of that. I’m tired of him. It’s like he doesn’t think I can do anything right, or that I can’t help myself. It’s like he looks at me as a fucking child, and I’m not a child. Sure I’ve acted like an asshole now and then, but I haven’t been as bad as some people. God, I just…I can’t take it anymore. And if I didn’t feel so uncomfortable around Siobhan I probably would have called her up weeks ago and asked if I could move back in with her. But ever since that stuff went down with her and Justin at the party, it seems like Siobhan has done everything in her power to distance herself from me.

But of course I can’t blame her.

I really don’t know what else to do though. I used to think of Trace as my best friend, maybe…even more than a friend at times. Family…yes, he was like the older brother I never had. But then things started to get weird. He just…confessed all of this shit to me. Like, that he has feelings for me, and maybe at first I thought I could see him in that kind of a way…but not now. It’s just weird. Trace is just…Trace, and the more I try to see him as something more, like….kissable, the more turned off I become. It’s just not going to happen, and I let him know that whenever I can. I think it does more damage to him than I even know, but hell I can’t help how I feel. And now…weeks later, living with him is starting to become nearly unbearable. He wont fucking leave me alone, and right now I’m starting to need my personal space more and more. I feel myself slipping a lot these days. I have bad day dreams, hallucinations and memories that are too terrible to share with anybody. It angers me a lot, because I just don’t understand why I cant get past what happened. I’m alive, I’m in tact. They didn’t cut off my fingers and toes…I didn’t get shot…I wasn’t…raped. So why is it still such a big deal? Sure they tied me up, but I should have expected they’d do it again after they threw me in the trunk of their car. I guess I’m just weak, I can’t handle it, and I‘ll probably spend the rest of my life figuring out how to get past it. But that doesn’t mean Trace has to be up my ass constantly about the subject. In a way I guess he still feels responsible for what happened, and that’s fine…that’s his issue and I completely understand what he’s going through. But that’s why he has a therapist. That’s supposed to make him sane, not talking to me about it…not reminding me about Justin all the time.

I hate thinking about Justin.

I can’t help but worry about him sometimes. It makes me sick to my stomach, but I can’t help it. He was a huge part of my life. I loved him like…well, I don’t know really. It wasn’t just your normal run of the mill love. What Justin and I had was special, and I guess the biggest question on my mind is: What would life be like if nothing had ever happened? If we hadn’t been kidnapped…if we’d been able to spend that weekend together in Tennessee at my parents house, what would the outcome have been? I know we would have been stubborn for awhile, but eventually Trace or somebody else would have forced us into a room to talk. And I’m sure we would have fought, then laughed because we were being so stubborn, then cried because we hadn’t talked for so long. Yeah, it would have been good I think. I think we would have reconnected…gotten things back to the way they had been before we slept together. But of course, things didn’t go that way at all.

Things went very, very wrong.

“Miss Donovan,” “Kathy” as I was instructed to call her by her quick talking assistant, sits up in her chair and folds her hands on the top of her desk. “I understand your position. I read the papers, I watch the news. I was well prepared for you to pull some sob story out of your ass about your ‘occurrence’…” She trails off and narrows her eyes at me, and it makes me want to throw up. I almost do. “…but you didn’t,” she continues with a slight smirk. “And that almost makes me want to give you a spot with us.”

I almost gasp at the thought. I think it’s too good to be true. By simply sitting here and staring at the woman like a damn idiot, I impressed her. I guess I tried too hard with the other places. Maybe if I had just sat and stared like a moron all along, I would have had a job by now. “Well, I’d really appreciate….”

“It’s just that we’re a very fast paced office, Kerri,” she continues as if she didn’t even hear me begin to speak. “And I’ve seen you walk around. I just don’t know….”

“It doesn’t slow me down,” I defend immediately. I want to slap myself for being bold enough to cut her off, but I just don’t care. It’s not like it’s a fake leg. Its’ not like I’m in a damn wheelchair. I had to have surgery. I have a limp because of it. The doctors said in time it will be less intense, but until then I just have to go on and live my life as normally as I can. It’s not fair that people frown upon me like I’m some kind of circus freak. I’m a smart young girl with a hell of a lot of potential, and I just can’t fucking believe that people can’t look past one little thing and try to see the good in me. “I just…I was in a car accident and my leg is still recovering from it, that’s all. I can do the work, Kathy. Just give me a chance.”

“But what about events? You’re new, and there’s no way that I’d be giving you a spot on the air so soon. You’d have to help run events with the rest of the staff at concerts, food drives…things like that. You’d have to be on your feet at least nine hours a day, if not more. I like you Kerri. You seem to have a nice personality and a strong will to work hard, and that doesn’t go unnoticed. But why should I give you the job over somebody who could run an errand in five minutes, while it could take you twenty?” She raises an eyebrow and lets out another sigh.

I know I’m done for. There’s no logical reason for her to give me the job really, except out of pity. And I don’t need pity. I shouldn’t have to work five times as hard as all the other gophers on her staff just to prove to her that I’m not a crippled idiot. Clearly, it’s not going to work out. I’m still jobless, still a loser. I’m going to go home tonight and leech off of Trace for my room and board. It sucks, and I’m pathetic, but there’s no way I’m going to sit here and grovel at Kathy’s feet any more today. “I understand, “ I say quietly, as I rise out of the chair. “Thanks for giving me a shot anyway.”

“Just know that it’s nothing personal, Kerri. I’ll definitely keep you in mind, and if your condition improves in a few months, I’d like you to give me a call. I’m always looking for outgoing people such as yourself, to be a part of my team.”

She plasters a ‘thanks for wasting my time’ smile across her face, and just as I’m about to tell her she can cram her outgoing bullshit up her ass, her assistant opens the door and says something about a three thirty appointment. I’m out the door within seconds, not looking back over my shoulder as I exit the office. Not really caring that I was old news even before Kathy’s assistant opened the door to give her that message. It doesn’t matter to her that my life has become a pathetic pile of bullshit, and I knew that before I even entered this building today. Even so, as the elevator doors open, allowing me access to its shiny gold interior, I find that I can’t hold back the tears of defeat that have been fighting to break free from behind my eyelids. I let myself cry, because I’m alone…and because I know I can’t let Trace see me cry when I get back to him. If anything, it will just make him feel like shit, and I’d really prefer it if one of us is in good spirits. It’s really bad to be living in an environment where everybody is completely miserable.

When I get out of the elevator, I’m able to calm myself down a little bit before venturing outside. This is San Francisco, so I am happy to say that I don’t have to worry about stupid paparazzi or weird people staring and pointing at me as I walk down the street. Los Angeles may as well be a state of it’s own, because the people there are the only ones that seem to remember who I am and what happened to me. Sometimes the photographers can be bad, getting in my face and asking me questions about Justin. It was easier before my accident, because I could just walk briskly out of their view. But now, with this limp, it’s really hard. On the rare occasions that I do venture out of the house, Trace is always with me, and we go into the city together. There have only been a few light brushes with all of that sine I’ve been here, but it’s not the most pleasant thing in the world. I almost always end up tripping over my own two feet, because the photographers get in my way, and Trace has to hold me up. It’s embarrassing, and then Trace is miserable the rest of the day because he feels that it was his responsibility to keep me away from all of that. I just can’t deal. So that’s why I didn’t apply to any of the radio stations in Los Angeles. It’s just too risky, and if I got caught up in that kind of a situation on my own, I really don’t know what the hell I would do.

About ten minutes later, I finally reach the little Café that I agreed to meet Trace at earlier when he dropped me off. I see him out front sitting at one of the little tables, sipping on a coffee and thumbing through a magazine. I almost don’t want to go over there. I want to take a bus and call his cell phone when I get back to the condo. I could tell him I got lost and found my way back home. He’d never buy it though. He knows I’m way too smart for that, and entirely too terrified to go back home without him. With an annoyed sigh I make my way over to the table and plop down in the seat across from him, not bothering to say so much as a hello.

“Well hey,” he half smirks and closes the magazine. “How’s the newest DJ this side of San Fran?”

I roll my eyes and focus my attention on an empty packet of sugar. “Why don’t you ask her? I’m sure she went in right after Kathy politely rejected me.”

He’s silent, and I know that means he’s disappointed. After I broke down that night in the kitchen, about how I couldn’t handle his feelings for me…about how I was stressed, we decided to talk about moving ahead. I told him that moving on with my life was probably the best thing for me, and all he wanted to know was how we could make it happen. When I conjured up the idea of my trying to find work, Trace was all for it of course. In fact, he’d told me that he’d been thinking the same thing, but hadn’t known how to bring it up to me. At first, he really wanted to just make a couple of phone calls and get me in with a prominent radio station, but I was insistent that I try to do it on my own first. And now, five rejections later, I’m still not ready to give in and let Trace get me hired somewhere. I know its stupid. But it’s the stubborn part of me taking over, and not wanting to show anybody that I’m weak. I really just want to be my own person, and I think Trace knows that. It’s why he’s not pushing the issue, but I’m pretty sure he knows that sooner or later I’m going to give in and take the easy way out. That’s probably childish too but hey…why pass up a good offer if you have no other solution?

“What did she say?,” he whispers. “Your resume was flawless. We went over it and over it.”

I pick up the empty sugar packet and begin to shred it into pieces. It’s making a mess, and usually I’d freak and try to clean it up, but right now I’m too upset to care. “It wasn’t about my resume, Trace. She really liked me. It was just….”

“Damn it!” He pounds his fist on the table top, and it makes me gasp in surprise. “This is bullshit!”

“Trace!” I look around at the other tables that have been occupied by other patrons of the café. Sure enough, they’re all staring, all wondering why the hell Trace is such a maniac. If only they knew, I’m sure they’d have no problem going back to their lattes and cross word puzzles. “We’re in public,” I whisper.

“I don’t fuckin care.” He shakes his head roughly and folds his arms across his chest. “We’re trying to move you ahead and all you keep getting are these lame ass excuses. I’m gonna make a call, Ker. I’m sorry…but if that’s what’s going to get you out of the house and into a good job….”

“How do you think that makes me feel?” I lean forward and stare him in the eye so he’ll know I’m serious. “That I cant’ get a simple job with the degree I earned on my own? That I have to have you make a phone call so somebody can give me a job because they feel sorry for you?”

He sighs. “Come on Ker, it’s a favor. They don’t feel bad…”

“I don’t want to hear a speech,” I interrupt. “I know how these things work. I’m not a naïve little child, like you think I am.”

He looks at me and I can tell he‘s hurt, but I really don’t care. It‘s how I feel, and I‘m not going to lie and cover up my real feelings. That’s how I ended up getting so hurt in the first place.

“What makes you believe that I think you’re a child? Because I care? Because I want to help you get a job quickly, with people who aren’t going to judge you because of something mediocre? Sometimes I just don’t fucking understand you, Kerri. Not at all.” He shakes his head a little and gets up from the chair, throwing a couple of bills down on the table to cover his tab. “Let’s just get the hell out of here before I lost my temper completely.”

He holds out his hand to me, but I don’t take it, I just look the other way as if he’s not even there. I don’t’ like his attitude right now. I just got rejected at a job interview and all he can do is yell at me. Yes, I said he thinks I’m a child, and it’s the truth. I’m not going to tell him I was wrong just so he’ll calm down. I’m done with that. It’s all I did with Justin and it got me no where. “You can go, I’ll just get a cab or something,” I mutter.

“Now you’re just being stupid.”

I look up at him and send him an icy glare. “And you’re being an asshole.”

He drops the hand he was holding out for me at his side and chuckles a little. “You know what? You want to be this way and be all miss high and mighty? That’s fine. You do that, and I’ll see you around.”

Then he walks away.

I don’t react at first, because I’m positive that in a matter of seconds he’ll turn around and tell me he’s sorry…that he was just upset. I wait…and wait… And then a few minutes turns into twenty. He’s not coming back for me, and all I can do is sit here in complete shock. He left me here. He actually left me stranded in San Francisco, knowing that any number of things could happen to me, and he just didn’t care. He didn’t fucking care. It makes me so angry that I can’t even cry. I’d throw something, but that wouldn’t solve anything. I just…I don’t even know what to do. I can’t think straight.

He left me here.

I go into the café and proceed to puke my brains out in the bathroom. The very thought of being all alone in an unfamiliar section of California scares the living crap out of me. Somebody could see me, see how weak I am and snatch me off the street. Only this time, there would be no ransom. This time, I’d just be gutted like some sort of animal. I have to cover my mouth to hold back my pathetic cries. I close my eyes, and force myself to calm down. Calm down Kerri, there’s a way back. There’s a way home. Right. There’s a way home. I have money. I have a credit card that my parents reactivated for me. I can take a cab…I can…

“Kerri, are you in there?”

Trace’s voice is followed by a soft rapping at the door, and I don’t even know how to respond to him. I’m so infuriated with him right now, I don’t even want to set eyes on him. I back into the wall and sink down to the floor, hoping he’ll give up if I don’t answer him.

“Ker…” The door opens and the top of his head creeps out from behind the door. “Look, I’m sorry.”

I hug my knees to my chest and lay my head on the tops of them. “Just go away.”

He sighs heavily and comes into the bathroom with me, closing and locking the door behind him. “I was angry.”

I don’t answer him. I’m tired of this. All I ever do is fight with him, and I can’t remember a time before this that I had these kind of problems with Trace. He was always my go-to for everything. Any question or problem I had could be solved by him. And I loved him for that. But now, I don’t love him at all. All I want to do is get far, far away from him, but the ironic part about that is, he’s the only one who’s willing to help me move on with my life. Of course my parents are willing to support me, but they really want me back in Tennessee, and I know there isn’t anything for me there. If I want to do anything, I have to start out here in Los Angeles. There’s no other choice. I pick my head up and look at him. “You were going to leave me here,” I whisper.

“Come on.” He sits down beside me and puts an arm around my shoulders. “You really believed that?”

“You walked away,” I point out.

“Yeah and I got halfway to the car,” he confesses solemnly. “Then I realized what I was fucking doing, and I knew how stupid I was being. I…I shouldn’t have done that. I know I probably scared the shit out of you. But damn Ker, I’m trying to help you and you just shoot me down every time.”

I shrug a little. “You try too hard sometimes.”

“It’s only because I care.”

I lean into him because I just…I need it right now. I need a friend right now, and even though Trace has been getting on my last nerve these days, he’s still the only one who seems to give a shit. “I don’t know what else do to,” I say, sobbing a little. “It’s like a dead end every time, Trace. Every time.”

“I know.” He gives my shoulder a little rub. “I know it’s hard. That’s why I’m asking you to please just let me help you. I swear, the people I know…they’re good people. They’ll treat you fair, and give you an awesome opportunity. And if you don’t like it, you don’t have to stay. We’ll try something else.”

I search his eyes for something that tells me he’s just trying to reassure me, that he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. But I can’t see anything. All I can see is that he genuinely cares, and he’d probably sit on the phone for hours with whoever it is, listing the reasons why I deserve a spot at their radio station if he had to. I realize…he’d do anything for me, and he always will, regardless of how I feel about him, or how I treat him. That’s just how Trace is, and right now…it kills me to think that Justin lost such an important person in his life. Because I know that Justin really needs Trace right now, and I feel almost selfish for having him all to myself. But then again, Justin did horrible things. Unforgivable things. And maybe he just deserves to be miserable because of what he did.

I really don’t know.

“I guess I should trust you and try,” I finally say. “That’s the only way I’m going to get ahead. I mean, I don’t want to . I really want to be my own person…”

He cuts me off by cupping my face in his hand and looking deep into my eyes. I’m uncomfortable. I don’t want him touching me like this, but I feel bad telling him to stop. “Ker, you have to take small steps to get where you want to be. You can’t just be fine and well overnight okay? I wish you would realize that. I wish you would realize that you’re not as stable as you think you are.”

I sigh and pull away from him. He’s annoying me right now. He’s making me feel helpless…like I’m not capable of handling myself, and that it’s going to take me years to become somewhat normal again. “Maybe if you’d just believe in me, I’d be better than I am right now.”

“Maybe if you’d stop being so stubborn and get some professional help, I’d be able to believe in you a little more.” He looks at the floor. “I still don’t understand why you wont. It’s not like anybody is going to think you’re weak or stupid. You’d be able to accept what happened…understand it, not just live in fear of it all the time.”

“I’m not interested,” I mutter, and push myself up from the floor. “I’ve told you that. Why can’t you just drop it?”

“Because Kerri.”

“Don’t give me that,” I mutter. “Don’t act like I can read your thoughts, because I fucking can’t.”

He looks up at me then, his eyes full of sadness and worry. And I know that he’s scared for me. Why? I don’t know. I didn’t think I was doing too bad mentally, at least not out in the open. But again, Trace is too smart for my fake fronts. He knows I’m still battling everything, keeping it all inside. He knows its killing me more and more everyday. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I don’t really understand the magnitude of everything that happened. It all hit me so fast and hard, the only thing I’ve been able to do is try and hide from it, and be afraid of it constantly. But talking to a shrink…I don’t think I could do that. I mean, I couldn’t get comfortable being around Madison once in awhile, and I didn’t even tell her all that much. It’s not that I’m afraid of talking about the kidnapping. I’ve talked about it with plenty of people. I guess its just that every time I talk about it, all of the horrible memories come rushing back to me. I remember what happened to Justin…that it was because of me, and I can’t deal with it. I can’t deal with the fact that he did that…to keep me alive.

I shudder.

“Come on.” He gets up from the floor and approaches me, placing his hands on my shoulders. “You try to act like you’re doing okay, but I know you’re not. I see it on your face every day. I know you don’t sleep a lot, and I know that you cry all the time. But I can’t do much else to help you, because I don’t know how to, Kerri. And you take all the attention I give you as ‘smothering’, I guess. Yeah, I know I said some stupid shit, and I know I have feelings for you that I shouldn’t. I can’t help that, but…at least take my advice. Get some help for yourself, before it’s too late.”

He gives me a light hug and tells me he’s going to head outside, and that I should meet him out there when I’m ready to. When I’m alone, I force myself to turn and look in the mirror. I want to see if he’s right. I want to see how bad I really look. I’m shocked at what I see. I don’t remember the last time I took a real good look at myself. Usually I’m too distracted in the morning to pay too much attention to what I look like. But…I can see it now. I look like hell. My complexion is pale, and tired. My eyes are sunken in, and the dark circles have taken form again. Its no wonder I can’t find work. The people at the radio stations probably took one look at me and saw I was a disaster waiting to happen. I’m disappointed in myself. I thought I was smarter than this. I thought I’d be able to catch myself slipping…but I didn’t. I’ve just been deteriorating slowly, ever since the accident. I realize that I do need help, more help than I thought, and that really scares me. I don’t know who I can trust. Who isn’t going to analyze me like some sort of mental patient. I don’t know what the hell to do, and now more than ever I wish I could call up Justin and ask him for his advice. I know he’d have the answer, despite the fact that he’s a fucking mess.

But I can’t call him.

And for the first time since my little nightmare began, I realize that the only way I can ever truly over come it, is to battle it head on whether I want to or not.

I just hope I can.

We May As Well be Strangers