Trapped

by Sally Mason

  ~~~~

  When Luke finds me a few hours later, I’m still in shambles, feeling absolute pity for myself. The fight with Finn upset me more than I want to admit, but I am convinced that I was right and he was wrong. I don’t understand how he could just blow up the way he did after everything I confided in him.

  My face is buried in the pillow when Luke lowers himself on the bed next to me.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” I grumble. “You were right about Finn all along. He’s a conceited and selfish bastard.”

  Luke sighs. “There’s something I have to tell you and you won’t like it.”

  I roll on my side and look at him sullenly. “Not sure if I’m ready for any more bad news today.”

  His eyes squeeze shut; it is something that will make me angry. “Finn actually didn’t beat up Jed with his friend, but with me.”

  “WHAT!”

  He grimaces. “When it first happened, Jed ran to the cops and swore it was me. We were wearing ski masks, but I had no alibi, and with my track record, the police were going to arrest me. A friend of my dad’s tipped us off, so Finn decided to step up to the plate and turn himself in. He knew the cops were after his friend for the longest, so he implicated him to get them off my back. If he hadn’t done that, I could forget going to law school.”

  I lie still while the truth settles in. Finn must be under an unbearable pressure. “Who was his friend?”

  “Some guy called Marcel Brown. He’s a real big fish in the Portland drug gangs and I don’t have a clue how Finn even knows him. Apparently, the feds have been after him for years, but never had anything on him until Finn pointed the finger.”

  My stomach turns to knots. Marcel will kill Finn for this, and if he doesn’t get the chance, Tyrone will do the deed as soon as Finn gets out of jail. “What happened to him?”

  Luke leans back in his chair. “Surprisingly, not much. He hired some hotshot lawyer from Portland who was even better than my dad, and since it was his first offense, he plea bargained the charge down to a misdemeanor and ninety days’ jail.” He shakes his head with a small sigh. “I still don’t know why this guy stayed quiet. He could’ve easily taken this to trial, and if he had won, I would’ve been screwed since the cops would’ve started to investigate again. Finn must have had something on him. He really came through for me.”

  I watch Luke through hooded eyes. “Marcel is really dangerous and I’m sure he’ll make Finn pay for lying to the cops about him.”

  No wonder Finn was so worried—this stunt was even more reckless than beating up Jed. The thought of Finn and Marcel being together at the Androscoggin County Jail terrifies me and I feel awful about our fight. He should have told me about my brother’s involvement.

  I massage the bridge of my nose. “I have a bad headache and honestly need some time to digest this.”

  “I totally understand but wanted to tell you the truth about Finn so you won’t be mad at him anymore.”

  I’m still upset about his hurtful words, but I would like to clear things up. “Could you tell him to come by tomorrow so we can talk?”

  “As far as I know, he’s going in right after his finals in the morning. His exams are the only reason the judge let him out in the first place. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait until after you leave the hospital.”

  I will have to make this work—there’s no way I want to be in here when Finn gets out of jail. Hopefully, he’ll still want to talk to me after I told him I never wanted to see him again. My heart gives me a good knock on the head with a bat. I brought this on myself. For the next few months, I really need to get my act together and figure out what to do with the rest of my life.

  CHAPTER 12

  Over the next few weeks, I grit my teeth and get on with my therapy. My individual sessions with Dr. Malcom progress well, but I still struggle with my group therapy, staying quiet as a mouse. I just can’t relate to the other patients, most of them deeply depressed women twice my age whose successful husbands cheat on them, or burned-out managers going through midlife crises. The younger patients, who had been around during the summer, have departed with the beginning of the new school year to return to their respective colleges. Their parents had used the hospital as a kind of boutique summer camp for individual character growth.

  When constant rain starts battling the state in late September, my mood drops to an all-time low. Only the thought of Finn at the Androscoggin County Jail gets me up in the morning. Most of my spare time is spent staring at an almost empty piece of paper while chewing on a pen, pondering how to start out my apology. Only the words “Hey, Finn” stare back at me, and after the second week, I doubt they’ll be joined by any more of my creations.

  After an especially bad group session in which I snap at the counselor to leave me the hell alone, I am summoned to Dr. Malcom’s office. Sure to be in trouble, I slump into the chair across from him, conjuring a rueful smile to show him that I am sorry.

  “Well, Kelsey, Mirabelle told me about what happened at group therapy today. Apparently, things haven’t been going so well.”

  My smile turns crooked. “Yeah, it’s been tough.”

  “Why do you think you struggle so much?” His smile is open and he has that fatherly tone that he always uses when he tries to dig around in my feelings.

  “I guess I just don’t have anything in common with the other patients. Their problems seem so—” I search for the right word but can’t come up with one. “Odd,” I finally mutter.

  “Odd?” He blinks at me with a hint of irritation.

  “Yeah, I just don’t understand most of their problems.” I giggle to get over the awkward hump when he frowns at me. “I mean, I’m not even married and I don’t have a job. Their problems are like a foreign language to me.”

  His smile become wider; he likes my answer. “I think it shows that you really thought about this. That’s good.”

  “I guess.” I return an eager smile to show him that I’m trying my best here.

  “In your case, Mirabelle and I actually agree that the group is not a good fit for you.”

  His statement surprises me, but I keep my poker face. If I play my cards right, maybe I get out of the group therapy in lieu of a few more individual sessions, which will definitely be a plus.

  “However, in your therapy phase, group counseling is imperative,” he continues.

  I bite my lip to hide my disappointment.

  “So that’s why I’ve discussed with your parents sending you to a group specializing in teens outside this facility.” He smiles when my jaw drops. “How would you like that?”

  The prospect of leaving the hospital, even if only for a few hours, is amazing. I still haven’t gotten the code for the keypad and have been feeling like a prisoner more and more.

  “I think that would be great.”

  “Excellent.” He pulls his calendar closer. “A former employee of mine runs a youth group in Portland twice a week in the evening. He has a space available and would welcome you to join them.”

  My temporary excitement is stalled in its tracks. “How do I get to Portland? I don’t drive.”

  “Oh, your brother will take you. Your parents said he’s available on those nights.”

  I grin. This is the best news I’ve had since I got admitted to this place. Luke had enrolled in fewer classes this semester to ensure he could visit me more regularly and this works in our favor. Riding down to Portland twice a week with him would be fun and make the whole ordeal of group therapy worth the effort. This could actually work.

  ~~~~

  Three weeks later, I’m no longer sure if this group therapy has been such a good idea. The group is tough and most of us don’t want to be there. We are twelve altogether, most of the others forced to attend as part of some court-imposed sanction. During every session so far, at least two girls have gotten into a fight, and Reggie, the counselor, has had his hands full to keep people in check. If Luke had not diligen
tly dragged me here and stayed around the whole time, I would have ditched the group on more than one occasion.

  The atmosphere during tonight’s session is relaxed for a change. Everyone is slouched in their chairs with an eye on the clock over the door. The seconds are dwindling down in snail speed. I yawn behind my raised hand, staring sullenly at the rain-spattered window. It’s surprising that the state hasn’t drowned yet in a big water puddle.

  I wonder what Finn is doing right this second. Luke told me that most inmates watch TV all day since this is apparently the only thing to do at the county jail. It will be torment for him, knowing how much he loves to read. On top of that, Marcel is in there, probably plotting how to beat him up. The thought is terrifying. Finn must be on edge, having to watch his back all the time.

  When someone clears their throat, my head snaps around. This girl Hallie stands in front of me, holding up the stupid talking stick. It means that it’s my turn next. Hallie is actually really nice, one of the few participants who is here voluntarily. Her parents died a few months ago and she’s really struggling. Most of the time, her words are drowned out by her tears. The other girls roll their eyes at her, calling her a crybaby behind her back. The word struck me. There’s a connection between us, even if only by the mere fact that Finn used that exact same phrase when we had our fight.

  I gaze at the talking stick. “Pass,” I mutter, grinning at Reggie to see his reaction.

  “Sorry, Kelsey, but you already got your three free passes. Time’s up. You need to share something with the group.”

  A sigh is stifled when my fingers wrap around the stick. “Fine.” I glance around as Hallie returns to her seat, and to my dismay, most of the other girls have changed from disinterested to fully focused. Judging from the curiosity in their eyes, they’ve been trying to figure out what’s wrong with me. This will be excruciating.

  “Well.” I suck in a deep breath, trying to hear my words over my sudden pounding heartbeat. A mouthful of air is swallowed down to help with my breathing. “A few months ago, I was admitted to the hospital after I cut myself. The doctors thought I tried to kill myself, but that’s not true. Doing better now.” My gaze meets Reggie’s. “That’s pretty much all there’s to know about me.” My eyes are pleading. Surely I made enough of an effort.

  His smile is mild. It’s his “I’m just getting started” face. “So why do you cut, Kelsey?”

  I shrug. “Don’t know.”

  “Man, cutting is so stupid,” one of the other girls jumps in. “It doesn’t solve anything.”

  “It kills the pain.” I toss her a dark look. “Not that you’d understand.”

  “Now, now, no fighting, girls.” Reggie raises his hand to take some of the sparks out of the sudden explosive atmosphere hanging over the room.

  “What’s the pain you want to kill?” he asks next.

  All eyes are on me. My cheeks are burning when I lower my gaze, studying the patterns of the linoleum to fight my sudden rising tears. “Three and a half years ago, I was kidnapped and raped. I just don’t seem to be able to move on. Every time I breathe, it hurts. I look at myself in the mirror and all I see is this dirty and used girl. So I cut. In that moment, it’s like all that pain in my heart is lifted, the physical pain so strong that I feel alive again. I breathe because I have to, but it doesn’t hurt anymore. It just feels good.”

  Silence hangs over the room. When I raise my head, most girls are avoiding my gaze. One girl is crying. All of a sudden, Hallie pushes up the sleeve of her sweater, exposing several scars.

  “I cut,” she says, her smile timid. “It helps me forget.”

  “Me, too.” With a sigh, the girl next to me leans back in the chair.

  There is general nodding around. An awkward laugh sucks up some of the pressing tension.

  “Okay.” Reggie’s eyes dart around the room. “Show of hands. Who is or has ever engaged in any type of self-harm?”

  Hand by hand goes up and for the first time, I don’t feel alone. We might all come from different backgrounds and have different problems, but on the inside, we have more in common than what’s on the surface. Only the girl who called me stupid is left in the end before grudgingly admitting that she used to binge eat chocolate and throw up to deal with her own problems.

  “Well, I guess over these next few weeks, we’ll be exploring how we can beat these inner demons that drive us to harm our own bodies.” Reggie glances around. “What do you think, guys?”

  His suggestion is met with more nodding. The scent of a general fighting spirit is in the air. I grin from ear to ear, knowing Finn would be proud. I’m on the right track.

  ~~~~

  If I had thought my recovery would get easier, I had something else coming. Though group therapy is no longer a total drag, revisiting the past proves incredibly painful. Nightmares are battling my dreams almost every night, leaving me in a constant state of exhaustion. I dread falling asleep, afraid of Jed’s eyes in the dark. Keeping the light on all night helps a little, but I still wake up at least once from my own screams.

  Dr. Malcom claims that this is just a phase which will disappear again, though I have my doubts. His answer is a stringent exercise plan to keep my mind occupied on other things, draining my body of its remaining energy to help me sleep better. Roy hires a fitness trainer who shoos me around the hospital grounds every morning until I’m ready to throw up. After finally getting the combination for the keypad, afternoon strolls on the pebble beach around the lake are added to the program together with Pilates sessions in the early evenings to “cleanse my soul.” Surprisingly, it works and I feel better about myself than I have in a long time.

  Reggie assigns us buddies like they do in AA who we are supposed to call in case we have the urge to self-harm again. I get paired with Hallie and after I get my phone back, we settle on a few Skype calls to get to know each other better. Though I enjoy chatting with her for short periods of time, I realize we have very little in common. She is the typical carefree fifteen-year-old, busy with school and crushing on this new guy she met. The envy burns that she is so easily regaining control of her life while I still battle with my nightmares and haunting memories.

  Unable to relate, I withdraw in my shell again, my need to prove myself to Finn my only driving force. Deep down, I know I should be doing these things for myself, but I figure that the spark will eventually catch. As long as I am getting better, who cares about the reasons? Luke is also thrilled with my progress, and so is my mom, which gives me another boost.

  One night when we drive back to the clinic from therapy, he brings up California.

  “I should hear from Stanford soon. Have you given it anymore thought if you want to come with me?”

  “Yeah.” My walks had given me plenty of time to think, but I’m still undecided. “Truthfully, Luke, I just want to make it through this therapy and get out of the clinic before making any decisions about the rest of my life.” I omit that I also want to talk to Finn, not sure if I should leave him behind if we rekindle our friendship. Though Hallie and the therapy group are great, he’s still the only person who ever understood what I’ve been going through.

  “You know I’ll always have your back,” Luke says, giving me this look like he knows exactly what I’m thinking about. “You shouldn’t base major life decisions on advice of someone you hardly know.”

  “I promise I won’t.” My fingers stroke alongside his arm and he tosses me a sweet smile. “I just want to look at things from different angles, that’s all.”

  “I understand.” Though the smile is still on his lips, the temperature in the car has dropped a few degrees, like he’s angry. “I just feel I’m losing you and I don’t like it.”

  “You’ll always hold a special place in my heart.” I laugh when he wiggles his eyebrows, nudging him hard in his shoulder. “I mean as a brother, you moron.”

  “I’m just worried about you, Kels. The thought of not being able to see you whenever I want to so
I can make sure you’re okay, is just”—he clicks his tongue—“daunting, I guess.”

  My head snuggles against his shoulder as far as the stretching seatbelt permits. “Have I told you that you’re the best big brother ever?” I gaze up at him from under my eyelashes, snickering when his lips start to twitch.

  “Let’s see.” He rubs his chin, tossing me a playful smile. “About a million times.”

  I snicker again. “I guess we should invite my mom and your dad for dinner when I’m back home and thank them that they got hitched.”

  “I suppose we should.”

  I close my eyes, shifting my head around until I find a comfortable spot on his arm. He hums along to the song on the radio. It’s just like old times. Going to California with him might ultimately turn out for the best. There is no way I could ever imagine a life without my big brother in it.

  CHAPTER 13

  They finally let me out of the hospital the week before Thanksgiving. The discharge papers confirm that “the patient has been sufficiently stabilized to no longer present a danger to herself or others,” but this opinion is qualified with the recommendation that I should “continue with further therapy under the supervision of a trained health care professional.” This means that I will get to see Dr. Stromberg again and continue with my group therapy sessions in Portland, which moves California further up the list. A new start could also mean a drastic cut in therapy sessions.

  While I was gone, my mom and Roy took the opportunity to search my room for possible self-harm weapons with the result that the razor blades and other sharp objects were removed. My walls were repainted with bright, cheerful colors, and a vibrant, fluffy comforter covers my bed. If optimism is not something that comes naturally to me at the moment, they will make sure to shove it down my throat. Everything is set for me to resume an easy and untroubled life, yet the turmoil still bubbling inside me is unwittingly ignored since I have been doing “so much better.” Maybe they hope that if they close their eyes to my true feelings, they’ll evaporate in thin air together with my memories.