This story is a work of FICTION. The events described are my own invention. Any similarities to actual events or persons are strictly coincidental. The author retains the copyright, and any other rights, to this original story. You may not publish it or any part of it without my explicit authorization.
This story contains depictions of consensual sexual acts between teenage males. It is intended for mature audiences only. If you find this type of material offensive or if you are under the legal age to read said material; please proceed no further.
Comments are always welcome at: hailcaesar2011@hotmail.com
The Peace Within Chapter 13
Suicide Watch, Day One.
I woke the next morning to the sound of a rhythmic thumping. When I rolled onto my back, I saw a rubber ball flying across the room and bouncing off the wall a few feet above me. A roll onto my other side and I discovered a boy about my age with short, but shaggy, brown hair and blue eyes, he was wearing a bathrobe over his pajamas and was catching the ball in a baseball glove, this was Noah.
"Would you knock that off?" I asked.
"But I haven't gotten to one hundred yet," said Noah.
"Is that important?" I asked.
"Uh, yes, if I don't get to one hundred, I'll have to start over," Noah explained.
"What number are you on now?"
"Sixty-five," said Noah.
I let out a sigh and rolled on my back, I didn't know what Noah's problem was but I was in a psych ward, I didn't want to risk pissing him off in case he was, well, you know, crazy. I lie there, counting the thumps against the wall and hoping that he wouldn't miss and hit me instead, fortunately he didn't and when I counted off 35 thumps, I turned back to my roomie.
"All done?"
"Yeah, sorry I woke you up," Noah apologized.
"It's ok, I had to get up anyway, what time is it?" I asked.
"Eight-twenty-four and 14 seconds, 15, 16, 17, 18..." Noah counted off, staring intently at his watch.
"Ok, ok, I get it," I stated, so he'd stop counting.
"Sorry," Noah apologized again, "you better get out of bed, breakfast starts at exactly 8:30."
"Don't they just bring it in?" I asked.
"No, we have to go down to the dining room with the other patients, at exactly 8:30," Noah reiterated.
"Exactly 8:30, is that so important?" I asked, he seemed to be very concerned with numbers
"Absolutely, if I don't get there at 8:30 then I might not get my Raisin Bran and if I don't get my Raisin Bran then I'll have to eat something else and there is so much to choose from that it might take a while to pick something and if it takes a while then I won't get my usual seat and if I don't get my usual seat then it'll just throw off my whole day," he rambled.
"Ok, I'm getting up," I stated, then stretched and climbed out of bed.
"Whoa, what happened to you?" asked Noah, the sleeves of the long sleeved t-shirt I was wearing had ridden up and he could see the bandages on my wrists.
"If it's all the same, I'd rather not discuss it," I stated, I didn't know him and I didn't want to explain what should have been obvious. I had bandages on my wrists and I was in the psych ward, he can figure it out.
"Sure, no problem," said Noah.
"Thanks, now do I have time to change before breakfast?" I asked.
"Can you do it fast, it's already 8:27 and 5 seconds, 6, 7, 8..."
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be quick," I interrupted.
I grabbed my bag and pulled out a new t-shirt, I was glad to see all the t-shirts mom picked had long sleeves, new pj bottoms and a fresh pair of briefs. I play sports, I'm used to being naked in a locker room with other boys and I didn't really think anything about changing in front of Noah. I took off my t-shirt and my bottoms, then my grey boxerbriefs. The underwear I selected were white Calvin Klein briefs and as I pulled them up over my bottom, I heard Noah mutter, "hmmmm."
"What?" I asked, turning to face him.
"You're wearing tighty whities," said Noah.
"Yeah, so?" I asked.
"I can't wear them, they give me a boner," said Noah, with no shame what so ever.
"Come again?" I asked.
"It's weird, every time I put a pair on, insta-stiffy," said Noah, "anyway, hurry up, it's time to go."
I dressed quickly, unsure of what to make of my roommate, he was a strange little guy and clearly some kind of obsessive-compulsive. It was important to him that we be right on time for breakfast and as I followed him down the hall, I couldn't help but notice how careful he was being not to step on any of the cracks in the tile floor. When we reached the dining room, we were the first ones there, Noah grabbed a bowl of Raisin Bran with a contented sigh and scurried off to a table in the corner. I shook my head, grabbed a bowl of cereal for myself and then headed to Noah's table since I didn't know anyone else to sit with.
I'd also grabbed some wheat toast and as I was applying butter and jelly, I noticed Noah poking around at his cereal.
"Something wrong?" I asked.
"Yesterday I had 61 raisins, today there are only 52," said Noah, "I don't understand why they can't get the same amount of raisins in my bowl every day."
"Yeah, God knows what could happen if you didn't eat the same number of raisins every day," I chuckled, but Noah was dead serious.
"I know right?" he stated, then rose from his seat, "I'll be right back."
I watched Noah skip across the dining room, careful to avoid any cracks. There were other patients filing into the room, some adults, some kids like me. Noah crowded in front of the line and demanded 9 more raisins for his cereal, I rolled my eyes and then spotted something in the opposite corner of the room. My blood turned cold, I could feel tension building in my muscles, my hands started to shake, it felt like the onset of a panic attack but somehow I managed to stay in control.
"There, much better," said Noah, as he sat down and dumped his raisins into his bowl, "hey, are you ok?"
"Who is that?" I asked.
"Who?" said Noah, looking around the room.
"That boy across from us, who is he?"
"I don't know, something Carter I think, I can't remember his first name," said Noah.
He was the spitting image of his older brother, mousy brown hair, brown eyes, a slender shape, same facial structure, he was Derek in miniature. I rose from the table on wobbly legs and started walking across the room. Noah spotted me, left his cereal with its 61 raisins and hopped along behind me, carefully avoiding cracks.
"Hey, you didn't eat your breakfast, where are you going?" asked Noah.
I didn't answer him I was focused on the boy in front of me.
"You're supposed to eat, it's 8:36 now, I haven't had my cereal yet," Noah complained.
"Oh, uh, hi," said the boy at the table, as Noah and I reached him.
I stared down at him, all I could hear were Derek's words, "fuck off you jock douchebag," it rang in my ears, louder and sharper.
"Who, are, you?" I finally managed to get out through a strangled voice.
"I'm Darren," he answered, "do I know you?"
"Darren what?" I demanded.
"Darren Carter, have we met or something?"
I slowly reached out to him and wrapped my fingers around the lapels of his bathrobe and hauled him to his feet.
"Hey, what the heck?" said Darren.
I shoved him hard against the wall and pinned him against it. I stared at him intently, all I could see was Derek, I wanted to hit him but I couldn't move my hands, my fingers dug harder into his robe and I started to breath heavy.
"Hey, what's the deal I didn't do anything," Darren whined, he was scared.
"Dude, you're going to get in trouble," said Noah, then he scurried back to our table.
"Lemme go," Darren whined.
"Derek," I hissed.
"Oh god, he was my brother," said Darren, "do you go to Shelton?"
"Derek," I hissed again.
"It's not my fault," Darren sniffled.
I was about to say something when a man put his hand on my shoulder, I looked over and found a middle aged guy with reddish brown hair and a trimmed beard, I thought he must be a nurse or something.
"Problem guys?" said the man.
"Derek," I hissed.
"No, this is Darren," said the man, gently, "Look at him, he's Darren and you're scarring him, how about you let him go?"
I turned back and looked at the boy I had pinned against the wall, he was shorter than me, there was fear on his face and tears in his eyes. All I could think was, this must have been what Derek's victims felt like before he killed them, alone and scared, knowing something awful was going to happen to them. I slowly loosened my fingers and let Darren go, taking a step back.
"Good," smiled the man, "Darren why don't you finish your breakfast, me and my friend here are going to have a little talk in the hall."
"O-ok," Darren sniffled.
"Come on you," said the man, he put his arm around my shoulder like we were old friends, then guided me out to the hall.
"What's your name buddy?" he asked, as we sat on a bench.
"Parker, Parker Westergaard."
"That's a cool name, I'm Greg," he smiled.
"Are you a nurse?" I asked.
"Used to be," said Greg, while he took my arm gently and examined each of my wrists.
"What are you doing?"
"You're new here so I'm guessing these are fresh," said Greg, nodding at my wounds, "it took a lot of pressure for you to hold Darren against that wall, I want to make sure you didn't open your wounds."
"Oh," I replied.
"Looks fine to me," said Greg after a moment, "so what's your beef with Darren?"
"His brother..." I started.
"Derek?" asked Greg.
"He, he murdered my twin," I replied.
"That's terrible, I'm sorry," said Greg.
"He shot him in the library at our school," I continued.
"Yeah, I saw that on the news, all those poor kids and teachers, is that why you're here now?" asked Greg.
"Kinda," I nodded.
"Well, you'll get a lot of help here, there are good doctors here, but you can't do stuff like that stunt you pulled in the dining room," said Greg.
"It just, well, kinda happened," I explained.
"I'm sure, you looked freaked out, but you know, Darren isn't his brother," said Greg.
"I know, he just looked so much like him and when he spoke all I could hear was his brother's voice," I stated.
"I can't tell you how to feel, but remember, Darren isn't his brother, he's a victim to, I mean, he's here after all, with us loonies," Greg smiled.
"Us loonies?" I asked.
Before Greg could explain, a nurse in pink scrubs walked up to us.
"Everything ok out here Greg?" she asked.
"Yeah, just having a chat with my friend Parker here," Greg smiled.
"Alright, well, it's time for you to see Dr. Washburn."
"Cool, see ya Parker," said Greg.
"I thought you were a nurse?"
"I was," said Greg, he smiled, patted me on the shoulder and then headed down the hall.
I sat there for a moment and then went back to finish my breakfast. Noah was just finishing his cereal and I looked across the room to find that Darren had already left.
"That was intense, what was that all about?" asked Noah.
"Don't you have something to count?" I replied sarcastically, then dug into my soggy Frosted Flakes.
"Geez, sorry I asked," said Noah, then he went back to his breakfast.
When we were finished eating, Noah gave me a brief tour of the floor. There were offices for counselors, a few class rooms, even an arts and crafts room that had a piano and a guitar in it. Everything about this place was designed to make the patients feel comfortable, it didn't have that institutional feeling that's so hard for hospital's to avoid. When the tour was done, Noah looked at his watch and announced he had to see his therapist, while I was alone, I looked for Darren.
No, I wasn't going to hurt him, in fact, I felt bad. Greg was right, Darren wasn't his brother and while me shoving him up against the wall wasn't the same as his brother murdering mine, he was still just a victim. I wanted to find Darren so that I could say I was sorry, I thought maybe talking to him would provide me with some answers. After all, I knew Patton and Patrick better than anyone, I'm sure it was the same for Darren and Derek too. I couldn't find him though, I searched the floor from top to bottom but he was nowhere to be found, I gave up when a nurse paged me over the intercom.
I found my way back to the front desk and approached the nurse to ask what she needed. She handed me a paper cup and some water, reminded me that I needed to take my antibiotics and pain killers, then said I had a visitor. I expected mom or dad but when she pointed down the hall, I was surprised to find two familiar faces, with squiggly radio ear pieces, guarding the door to the visitor's room. As I walked towards the door, Agent Martinez held it open for me and I found Peter sitting inside.
"Jesus Parker," said Peter, as he rose from his seat and hugged me tight.
"I know," I sighed.
"I am so sorry," said Peter as we sat down.
"Uh, for what?" I asked.
"You called me the other night and I wasn't there for you, I'm so sorry," said Peter.
"Oh, that, it's no big deal," I replied.
"It is, I told you that you could call me if you ever needed me and I wasn't there for you, I feel terrible, look what happened to you,"
"Hey, it's not your fault, you're not my shrink, you're not responsible for me," I stated.
"No, but I'm your friend and I care about you," said Peter.
"And I appreciate your friendship but as someone who has been here before, I expect you to know that this was my fault, not yours."
"Well, I'm still sorry it happened, I love you kid, you're a good guy and I want us to be friends for a long, long time," said Peter.
"Ha, you called me kid," I smiled.
"Sorry, I guess I'm only a few years older," Peter blushed.
"It's not that, Patton used to call me that, he was 5 minutes older," I smiled again.
"Awww, that's kinda cute," Peter grinned.
"Yeah, I miss him," I sighed, "how did you know I was here anyway, my mom?"
"Yeah, I called your cell but when you didn't answer, I called the house."
"Ok."
"Wanna talk about it?" asked Peter.
"Actually, I do," I replied.
"Good, it helps, doesn't it?"
"I does, I just wish I'd been more open about things before," I sighed.
"What do you mean?" asked Peter.
"The day Patton died, I was sick and didn't go to school, he was only in that library because he was picking up a book for me, if I'd just gone to school, it would have been me, not him," I sniffled, it's so hard to talk about this without crying.
"Oh Parker, you've been keeping this in the whole time?" said Peter.
"He called me from the library, I heard the gun shots in the background, he told me he loved me and to tell mom and dad that he loved them, to help Patrick with his baseball and to go see our grandpa at the rest home," I continued, "I heard him die, I heard Carter shoot him and then the son of a bitch laughed."
I was crying hard by then, Peter came around the table and hugged me, he held on to me until I stopped, or at least caught my breath.
"It's not your fault Parker, you couldn't help being sick, just like Patton couldn't help being a good brother, he was getting that book for you because he loved you," said Peter.
"You haven't heard the worst part yet," I informed him.
"Do you want to go on?" asked Peter.
"The night before, I wasn't feeling good so I had Patton stop at the drug store so I could get some cough drops, Carter waited on me, I didn't mean to but I was so rude to him, then the next day he goes on his rampage and what happens, he sees a guy that looks like me and, and, and..." I wept.
"What did you say to him?" asked Peter.
"He was trying to talk to me about my old piano teacher, I was tired, I got hit in the head by a ball at soccer practice, my throat hurt, I wanted to go home, I just cut him off and gave him the money."
"Parker, that isn't your fault either, I've been watching the news, Carter and Warner planned that attack for months, nothing you could have done would have stopped it," said Peter.
"I miss Patton so much," I cried.
"I know you do kiddo but he wouldn't want you to feel guilty like this, he knows it wasn't your fault, he loves you," said Peter.
"You really think so?" I asked.
"Of course, there are few certainties in this world but I am certain of this, your brother loves you and he wants you to get better and lead a good life," Peter assured me.
I cried a little longer and finally got my emotions in check. I picked Peter as the first person to tell about the truth, one, because I trusted him, and two, I sensed he'd have something wise to say, not just because he was the first person I saw who cared about me.
"Feel better?" asked Peter, when I was calm.
"A little, I guess it really does help to talk," I blushed.
"You can tell me anything Parker, I just want to help," said Peter.
"I know, there is more I want to tell you, but this is enough for today, one step at a time, right?"
"Yeah, that's how it works," Peter smiled, "I better get back, I have a term paper I have to write, are you going to be ok?"
"Sure, I've got some things I need to take care of anyway, will you come visit me again, I'm stuck here for three days," I explained.
"See you tomorrow," Peter smiled, then gave me one of his great, warm hugs.
When Peter left, I resumed my search for Darren, I was compelled to apologize to him. The look on his face when I shoved him up against that wall, it haunted me, I never wanted to hurt anyone, never wanted to see a look like that on anyone's face. I still couldn't find him though, I didn't know where he was hiding and around noon, Noah tracked me down and made sure I came to lunch with him. My mom and dad came to visit, we spent a lot of time together and they explained that Dr. Kitridge would be in to see me the next day. When they left it was time for dinner and after that, Noah dragged me into the TV room with everyone else.
I was bored with TV, there wasn't anything good on but just before I got up to go to my room, Greg asked me to play chess with him. I sensed an opportunity, I'm a great chess player, I always beat my dad and thought I could take Greg pretty easily. Boy was I wrong, not only was he an affable sort of guy, he was also like the Rainman of chess, he beat me four times in a row and I was starting to think that my dad, either sucked, or had been letting me win. Despite my drubbing, the evening ended on a good note, I was finding my fellow patients to be a lot like me, they weren't crazy, they just had problems and needed help, that gave me some comfort, at least I wasn't alone.
At bedtime, I watched Noah go through his OCD bedtime ritual of changing his pajamas and systematically peeling back his blankets, I smiled at his quirks and nestled in for some rest. I was feeling good about my progress, talking to Peter was cathartic and talking to Dr. Kitridge was going to give me some perspective too. I also resolved that no matter what it takes, tomorrow, I'm going to find Darren.