Monday, March 17, 2014

POSTED: The Home



Leah 4



There is a thick, caked layer of sand coating the insides of my eyelids, scratching and clawing at my corneas in protest when I try with all my might to will my eyes open, accompanied with the feeling of cotton filling my mouth absorbing any tiny trace of moisture that dare arise. These are the glorious feelings to which I am privy to wake with. The sound of a groan makes me stir even further in to consciousness and force back my lids, as painful a task as it is, to look around and find the source of the sound. To my surprise I find the darkened room completely void of any other beings from myself. It is then that I realize the groan must have come from me. Balling my hands at my sides it takes a world of effort for me to coerce my muscles in to cooperation. If for nothing else than to make it to my bathroom, brush my teeth and rid the cotton dryness from my mouth before coming back to collapse for a night of real sleep. That’s not too much to ask, right?

Collecting my strength of will I roll to my side, which may sound to be a meager task to anyone not doped with a near-lethal dose of Ativan, but that’s where my energy and stamina give out. For just a minute I lay there, content to be pissed off at the world, and stuck uncomfortably on my side while I make a mental note to kick the shrink’s ass that stuck me with the damn syringe. Sighing in defeat I push myself back to lay on my back, landing with a groan, and stare at the ceiling through the cracks that are my half-open eyes.
With my eyes still fighting to hold off the sandy weighted lids, I notice the smallest beam of muted light dance in a line across my ceiling before it disappears again. My mind had not yet abandoned the thoughts on why or how light was dancing on my ceiling, as gracefully as a lopsided two-legged elephant, when I felt the shifting of my mattress. “Lee, what the fuck are you doing here?”

My eyes rolled in my head and I wanted to throw my arm over my eyes in an attempt to hide me from the ghost of my late roommate, “Why are you haunting me? You’re dead, what are you trying to do? Drive me back into the fucking nuthouse?” Oh God. It’s a hallucination; that has to be the only explanation there is. I’m hallucination now. It wouldn’t be the first time Ativan has caused such reactions in me. Well, as long as I’m seeing dead people now, I might as well look up and face the music, theoretically.

I noticed the very typical behavior of her rolling her eyes at me and I was so focused on it that I was almost shocked when she grabbed my hand from where it lay on the bed, and put it to her face. “You moron, I am right here. I am not dead, how could you be touching me if I am dead?”

Was this some kind of damn joke that now I’m being taunted besides? If it was, it worked and I snapped on the apparition, jerking my hand out of her hold, “I have some pretty vivid fucking dreams, Bells.”

There was the briefest of pauses before she sighed, “Okay, what did you tell me at the hospital when I was having night terrors?” Why? It’s the question most predominant in my head, screaming for an answer as to why this is all happening. It took me so long to come to grips with everything that had happened, and now this is threatening for me to lose my shit. My dreams have never been quite so vivid and painfully accurate. The next thing she did punctuated that fact perfectly when she lifted my hand again and put it just an inch front of my face such that I have no choice but to look, and listen.

“In dreams, you never have the correct amount of fingers,” she explained as if I were a toddler needing to be spoke to in a slow, deliberate manner, “so look at your hand, do you see that? Five fingers.”

I couldn’t help it, she didn’t leave me much of a choice, so I stared at my hand frowning as I counted my digits over and over, just to make sure. One, two, three, four, five… One, two… Holy shit! This really is my Bells, my best friend. A woman I’d grown to love and need in my life. A woman I have grieved and mourned, and even attempted suicide just to be with her again. The one person who knows every last thing a person, who isn’t me, could know about me. The speed with which I jerked my hand away from her made her jump to her feet. “This isn’t a dream. You’re real! Here! Right now…”

As she sat back down on the edge of my bed, less reserved and unsure this time, she wore her trademark Cheshire, shit-eating grin, “I am here, right now.”

“Holy shit.” Words couldn’t begin to explain the meaning and the timbre beneath my exclamation, and I know it, which makes me frown even harder as my hand reaches up to touch her arm. “But… the nurses said…at the hospital, you killed yourself.”

I watched her smile, but shake her head sadly mulling over her words before she spoke them, “No, that was Rebecca. Becka got out and her family shunned her and she didn’t get in with the work program. She started using again the second she got out from what I found out. She just… lost the game.”

My heart sank and I weakly lifted a hand scrubbing it down my face and shaking my head, muttering under my breath, “Stupid bitch.” Of the three of us that had been roomed together at the institute, Bex had seemed to be the most put together and with it. Damn, she played it off well enough to have both Bells and I convinced. There is a part of me, albeit an infinitesimal part but a part nonetheless, that wants to mourn all over new again, but the feeling of having been played makes that a difficult task to accept. The only thing I truly regret and feel grievances towards is the fact that I almost followed the bitch’s sorry ass because I thought… No, it wasn’t Bells. That much I need to get out of my head because she is here, with me, alive and well enough.

I watched her nod her head in agreement and grin back at me, “So they let you out finally?”

Trying to sit up so that I could bring Bells close to me and give her a long overdue hug, I pressed my elbows in to the mattress on either side of me and pushed up. I made it not even halfway before my arms gave back out again, the world spinning, and I laid back down closing my eyes and doing a bit a deep, labored breathing to fight off the wave of nausea. “Yeah, if you can call this place out.”

I don’t know what she was doing, but knowing her as well as I do I imagine she is nodding, or smirking, or something to that effect before I hear her response, “Looks like you got pick of the litter for a parole officer.”

That just about summed it up. “You have no fucking clue,” I snorted out and peeked a single eye open at her from under my forearm that is strewn over my face. A wide grin cracked my features and it actually pained me, I couldn’t begin to think back to the last time I had smiled at all, much less grinned so wide.

I heard the creak of the door as it flew open before the growling voice barged in to the room, uninvited, “No, you obviously don’t have any fucking clue if you are in here right now.” The slam of the door followed Sergeant Asshole’s arrival and I twisted my head to see that he was standing there looking as pissed off as ever. I groaned and rolled my eyes, lacing my free hand with Bells’ where Quil couldn’t see it, repositioning my arm back over my eyes. This is the last fucking thing I want to deal with right now. “What do you think you are doing in here?”

To my shock it was B that answered by bolting upright to stand on her feet after the smallest fraction of a second, and squared her shoulders to him, “Listen Captain Pretty,” don’t laugh, don’t laugh Leah. Do. Not. Laugh at that nickname. “You don’t scare me like you seem to think you do, so knock the tough guy shit out. I have been around people and places that would make your pretty little face crumble with tears.” Now my shocked expression was turned to meet the back of her head, mouth falling agape and everything as she stood her ground and, what, threatened him? No, that wasn’t a threat, especially coming from her. I know her well enough to understand that much.

When I finally closed my mouth again and turned my eyes over towards the door I saw Quil wearing a frigid, evil smirk on his lips that made my skin crawl, “That is so adorable that you think that your little stint in the Looney bin and jaunt through prison means that you are some tough bitch that has seen the world.” As crazy as it is, I am beginning to feel like one of those characters in the cartoons that is stuck between two others while their head flies back and forth, side to side, as they watch the exchange taking place around them.

“You have no idea what I have seen or not seen you fucking glorified babysitter! If you want to see how fucking tough I am, come and try me you—” Bells’ voice gave way to her anger that was quickly rising, and I know it too well.

“Pa fè l,” I said softly from the bed. It has been far too long since I had spoken a word of my second language, Creole, but it all came flooding back to me upon registering Bells to be alive and well. “Don’t do it,” I repeated just as softly in the same foreign tongue. I saw B open her mouth to respond but I managed to cut her off with a simple shake of my head, “Jis pa, se pa yon valè li e li pa konprann nou.” Just don't, it's not worth it and he doesn't understand us.

Bells sighed and nodded, and I knew then that I had hit the mark that I needed to find, I had gotten her to relax just enough that she wouldn’t go off the handle on Quil. Instead, I pushed myself up slowly and carefully to watch when she turned and was looking back at him. “Okay hotshot, you win, but how about a scene like today doesn’t fucking happen again, do you hear me?” Well, I did have her calm at one point, just seconds ago.

“You are seriously threatening me right now?” Swallowing the lump that built up in my throat I could plainly see that Quil was pissed off now. Opening my mouth to intervene before the two of them get in to a match of their words, Bells cut me off.

“Abso-fucking-lutely and I won’t do it again because, if I hear her screaming for you to get off her again… I will hunt you down and slice your cock off your package and use it as a pencil to write Ginger Beer across your forehead.” Quil was growling louder and louder, the sound bubbling through his entire being as she spoke.

The entire scene unfolding in front of me was too much and I can’t help but giggle, “She will too!” The mere image of “Ginger Beer” being scrawled across Quil’s forehead in any way, shape, or form just about has me in a laughing fit. But my laughter is stopped dead in its tracks like a train with the emergency brake pulled to derail the entire locomotive in the blink of an eye when Quil responded.
In two fast and heavy steps he closed the space between himself and Bells, grabbing her left wrist in a way that looked like he was going to take it upon himself and physically displace her from the room, but he stopped when he saw her wrist, where I have no doubt the matching tattoo we share is staring at him in a mocking manner, looking a thousand times bigger than it really is. My eyebrow lifted seeing how he stared at it, studying it, for a little bit before turning his look on me so fiercely I could have stumbled backwards had I been on my feet. Quil quickly let Bells’ wrist go, keeping his eyes on me but spoke directly to Bells, “You need to leave. She has had a long day and I have a feeling tomorrow isn’t going to be any shorter.”

There was a question written all over Bells’ face when she turned to look at me, one that I couldn’t and wouldn’t have an opportunity to answer right now even if I wanted to so I simply gave her a nod then watched her shape disappear to a silhouette in the doorway before finally disappearing. It wasn’t even a full second after she was gone that I was already wishing she was back here, holding my hand, holding me and keeping me sane.

“We need to talk, Clearwater,” Quil’s formerly strict and authoritative voice broke the silence in a softer, approachable tone. Begrudgingly I looked away from the door and met his look head on, my brows furrowing together above my eyes as he moved with extreme caution towards me, his hands held open palms out facing me.

“What in God’s name do you want to talk about at this hour, Sarge?” my tone was the exact opposite of his approachable, easy one. “Aren’t you the one that just told B…” I stopped myself, knowing I am the only person able to call her anything other than by her chosen nickname, “Swan that I had a long day, no thanks to you, and tomorrow’s going to be longer? Can’t it wait? I’d like some non-drug induced sleep, if you don’t mind.” My temper was edging and threatening to escape my grasp, my eyes narrowing on his features.

Quil sighed and gave an uncharacteristic roll of his eyes at me but kept his hands up in surrender. “Yes, I did tell her that. No, it can’t wait. Yes, you will get some restful sleep.” He paused just long enough to quirk his brow and grab a breath before he carried on. “And you can cut the ‘Sarge’ crap, Leah.”

The way he used my real name brought me up short, even speechless. He had answered all my questions, which I had meant to be rhetorical, honestly, in one swoop and yet the way my name sounded coming from his lips was what made me sit up and pay attention in a figurative sense. Reaching behind me I grabbed my one pillow and tossed in on my lap then fluffed the second pillow behind my back to serve as a prop against the headboard of my bed. Flopping back in to the pillow I gathered the one from my lap and pulled it against my stomach, crossing my arms in front of it, “Alright, I’m listening…”

I am not a fan of how long Quil stays quiet and unmoving, the only signs of life in him being the way he presses his fingers together and steeples them in front of him resting his chin on them. I can almost hear the wheels in his head turning, mulling over whatever it is that he wants to say. Here I had thought that if it was so important that it couldn’t wait for morning, that it would be right on the tip of his tongue. I’d steeled myself in preparation for the next tongue-lashing I’d be getting because Bells showed up in my room. “You have to know, Leah.” My brows pull together even further, a million different way that this sentence could be finished, and none of them are really anything that I want to hear right now. “There are...,” he paused as if he were thinking carefully about how to say it again, “reasons. None that are easily explained away, but reasons behind…”

“Stop right there, Quil.” I put a hand up as my shield. Shielding my self from who knows what the hell was going to follow all of that. “Just please, stop. I don’t want to hear it right now.”

I was floored when Quil’s hand wrapped around my wrist and lowered my hand, my shield out of his way so he could lean closer to me. “You may not want to hear anything, but like I said, you have to know this, Leah. I promise you, it’s a game changer.”

I stared at him, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks as hot as the natural blush you get from too many hours spent in the summer’s sun before I yanked my hand away and leveled him with a glare. “I said no.” Retucking my arm around my middle and folding it, I sat stiff as a board just waiting.

“I am not going anywhere, Leah. I’m not going away, no matter how big of a fit you pitch. I’m here because I chose… No, I choose to be here looking after you. My choice. I chose you.” Quil’s eyes, always the portal in to his soul, danced with the blazing emotions of his words. In a slow-motion and uncertain kind of way he lifted his hand to brush a piece of hair that had fallen in front of my face aside, “I’m not going anywhere this time.” Seconds, maybe a minute or more passed before I was able to form any kind of connection from my brain to the rest of me, but I was interrupted by Quil gently prodding me with his words, “Say something.”

“Fuck you, Quil.” Shaking my head I start to push myself off the bed to make some sort of escape but the lingering effects of the drugs have my extremities still feeling sluggish and keep me grounded to my mattress which only makes me more upset. The sting of my eyes warns of betraying tears threatening to spill. Grounding my teeth together I throw an arm straight out, pointing a long slender digit at the door. “Get out. I’m tired and I want to sleep, so kindly fuck off and get the hell out of my room. Now.”

The tiniest glimmers of victory flashes in my mind when Quil’s expression actually reflects the hurt I’ve inflicted, the hurt continuing to resonate through him when his hands return to the surrender posture as his protection while he backs his way out of the room. “I’ll be here in the morning. Sleep well, Leah.” A growl-like roar built within me, all the way from deep in my belly only to finally escape after Quil pulled the door closed tight. Taking the pillow from on my lap I launch it, with impressive strength, and feel slightly more satisfied when it collides with the things on top of the dresser and send them crashing to the ground before it hits the door with a thud.

After all these years of trying to recover, how am I to be expected to make any gains with that lingering over my head like a loaded storm cloud ready to cascade down on me with no more than a moment’s notice? Flopping back in to my bed, I grab up my pillow from behind my head and hold it to my face to muffle the screamed profanities I have in honor of Quil’s profession of feelings.

I had screamed myself to sleep at some point last night but once I was out, I was truly out cold and not to be woken by anything. When the pillow I’d sent through space smacked me in the ass, that happened to be up in the air with how my legs were curled under me in a fetal position throughout the night, I jumped lifting my head from the mattress and sending the other pillow that was burying my head to the floor. “What do you want? I’m trying to sleep here.” My voice came out pathetically whiney, but honestly, you don’t wake a sleeping woman. Any idiot knows that.

“Get up, get dressed, and let’s go. We’ve got a meeting, Clearwater.” Bossy, working Quil was back in full force and I am more than thankful for that. “You’ve got five minutes to get yourself ready, I let you sleep in. We’ll get food after. Come on. Chop. Chop.”

“Alright, alright, Jesus Christ, I’m awake.” Like a little child being nagged by her mother, I huffed and threw what little amount of blankets I still had on me to the floor and got myself up. Yawning and stretching as I crossed the room to my small bathroom I grabbed at random clothing I crossed along the way. I made quick work of brushing my teeth and combing my fingers through my hair, that was standing in a million different directions, enough so that I could pull the front half back in a clip. My natural, ethnic curls lying haphazardly over my shoulders. With my toothbrush still in my mouth I managed to step in to my loose-fitting jeans and jump to get them over the bubble of my butt so that I could fasten the button closure on them. Without a care that Quil is present I shrugged out of my tank-top I’d slept in and pulled on a fresh one, at least by the sniff test it is fresh, then pulled on my long sweater, and left it to hang open in front. Turning back to face the room and the eyes on me I gestured to the door, stepping in to flip flops as I did, “Alright, ready. Let’s go get this shit over with.”

Without a word Quil lead the way, all businesslike again, down to the basement meeting room where we are the first ones to arrive. Parking my ass on the couch when I’m told to, I pull out one of my cigarettes and light up, ignoring the glare he gives me, and sit quietly as some other hardass brings his girl in and seats her on the opposite end of the couch from me, leaving a space between us. Great. Looking over the three chairs in front of the couch I deduce that there is still one more person coming to join our little coffee clutch session, I can’t wait to find out who that just might be.

“Ou fukin bata! Ou pi bon mete m 'desann kounye a oswa konsa ede m', Bondye mwen pral rele ke ou yo ap eseye vyole m'!” I heard the Creole flying from Bells’ mouth and flew out of my seat on the couch as soon as my brain translated the words, “You fucking bastard! You better put me down now or so help me God I will scream that you are trying to rape me!” Quil’s hand was on my shoulder pushing me back down in to my seat just before I saw Bells being parked harshly on her ass next me and the other girl on the couch. Instinctively I reached over and put a hand on her knee in a soothing manner to calm her. “What the fuck, Mike?”

“That seems to be the question of the moment,” I snorted and shook my head offering her a cigarette from my pack. Quil had mentioned some kind of meeting this morning, but this is nothing like what I had in mind when he said it.

This scenario playing out before us and around us visibly pissed all of us girls off, but it was Bells that broke the silence with the plaguing question on all our minds, “Alright guys, let hear this. What the fuck is going on?”

In unison, all three guys looked at each other as if they were passing some message amongst themselves before they all, once again, uniformly looked back at us. It was the parole officer that I haven’t met yet, except for when he was helping to separate me and Quil last night that stepped forward slightly, whipping one of the three chairs in line in front of us backwards and sitting on it as leisurely as you would at a sporting event, “Talo …”

“Ha! I told you she was the Talo!” Bells shrieked triumphantly looking at Mike, and I could see the way his lips look to twitch fighting to keep from smiling. I just simply snorted a laugh at her enthusiasm and leaned back in to the couch cushion, chewing my thumbnail painfully clear down to the skin.

The officer speaking only stopped long enough to glare at Bells, and then he turned back to the third chick and continued, “Talo, I know you think this place won’t help and you want to be home, but just look at how that meeting with the shrink went. Could you do that all day everyday? Without me or Sue or anything else as a buffer between you and your brother?” This has to be some sort of a joke, now I know it. They didn’t all really gather the three of us girls here together because one pathetic bitch needs friends to help her keep her behavior in check, did they?

My eyes danced their way down in the girl’s direction just soon enough that I caught the shake of her head. Something about her made my heart want to break for her, but I can’t place it, so naturally I continue watching her, studying her even as her parole officer continues to drone on, “Good, now I know these men here, I work with them so from now on; all three of us are not your individual parole officers. Not according to us. All three of us are ALL of your parole officers.”

As soon as the words where out of his mouth, all three of us girls jolted forward, looking doe-eyed at the men. “What?!” The shock in all of our voices was deafening, but I’m almost certain that mine was a result of something completely different than the other two girls.

“That is right kids, since the three of you seem to be unable to deal with NOT getting into trouble with each other; you have now sealed the deal on three wardens.” Quil was the one explaining now, looking cool as a cucumber with his hands pushed in to his jeans’ pockets and a triumphant smirk on his lips. My eyes narrow on him skeptically the longer they stay locked on him. What is the point to all of this? Honestly, we live in a house full of counselors and PO’s, how is this any different or any kind of special arrangement?

Bells snapped before anyone else could, “Are you fucking kidding me? Mike, this is bullshit and you know it. I don’t need three baby sitters.” She then turned on Quil and narrowed her eyes. “This was your fucking idea, because you get your rocks off by torturing us girls.” Groaning I scrub a hand down my face in fear for how he will respond to that one, fearful for Bells, that is.

The third parole officer and Bells’ both coughed which stole my attention from everything else. My eyes glare daggers at the pair of them, wanting to know exactly what part of this they are finding funny, and if that funny part includes my fragile state from last night. If that is the case, heads will roll. Quil was remarkably calm in his response, considering how he has been handling shit lately. “You have almost killed people on four separate occasions. You have a blatant disregard for rules, seeing how you snuck into my charge’s room last night and on top of everything else, I have a serious inquiry on just how close you are with your parole officer.”

I just sat there and blinked like a fool whose mouth hangs open on a regular basis. Shock may be an appropriate way to describe it, but it mixes easily with the sense of relief settling itself in my belly. My shock is renewed again when Mike bellows, “Swan, chill the fuck out. I can’t be here all the time and when I am not, they are right, you need to be looked after.”

The whole business of being looked after by others is sounding better and better with every time the words caressed the shell of my ear. “Well, I may be the only one that is perfectly fine with this arrangement.” The look Mike gave me with his raised brow made me grin. Shooting a wink in his direction I shrugged and went on, “However, I still wouldn’t wish Sergeant here on anyone, not even my worst enemy.” Of all people, I wouldn’t wish Quil’s harsh ways on Bells, or the pathetic Talo girl, whose name I still haven’t learned.

Perhaps I could have chosen to word it differently, but the look and teeth-flashing grin I get tells me that Quil isn’t entirely pissed off and ready to haul my ass over his shoulder like I was afraid he might. “You, Clearwater, are here because it is obvious that I and you have shit to get through, so your head-quack thinks it would be a good idea if I wasn’t all present in your recovery process. If I comply, I need someone to be watching you while I am not here.”

“That is the biggest cop-out I have ever heard.” I snapped back. “You would never do what some fucking shrink told you to do.” My blood is literally boiling with just how outrageous this all sounds. Despite practicing some deep, cleansing breathing like Jasper taught me, I am ready to launch myself at the meathead for thinking he is being funny bringing that shit up here when it is a blatant lie.
All he could manage was a sigh and to pinch the bridge of his nose, his tone slow and pointed as if I were a child he was talking to, “I got orders because of a call that your fucking queer shrink put in to my department.”

Jasper ratted Quil out? That was it; I burst out laughing falling back in to the cushion of the couch holding my stomach, only frustrating him further to growl at me with an advancing step. “Look,” the third parole officer intervened, “we have worked with Sue to make it so that all chores, fieldtrips and practically everything else that is to be done while you three are in this house will be done together.”
“The only time you are excused is when an individual parole officer or your assigned shrink pulls one of you away.”

“Sa se bullshit nèt sou tout pwen.” This is complete bullshit.

Both Bells and I responded in the exact same way, in the exact same instant; snapping our heads to look where the words have come from. The ‘Talo’ chick jumped in return, probably because we scared the shit out of her. I lifted a brow, growing even more curious about the woman that I was now sentenced to be spending all of me and Bells’ time together with.

Bells laughed hard and I couldn’t help but ask. “Èske ou trè enfliyan?” Are you fluent? I looked between the two awaiting the response. Honestly I’m still in a bit of shock that this could very well be our easy way out of the arrangement.

As soon as I saw the nodding answer from ‘Talo’ my mind was made up. Grinning wide, B leaned closer to both us girls, giving a sideways glance to the line of men, “Byen, paske m' ap ki pou di osi lontan ke sa a kontra avèk twa gardiens dure, nou pale pa gen anyen nan Angle.” Good, because I say that for as long as this deal with three babysitters lasts, we speak nothing of English.

If the men want to play a game and force us all to create some type of bond and friendship, well, two sides can play that game. And we girls can be far better at it!




POSTED: The Home

Swan 5




“You have to take responsibility for your own part in this!” Jared was yelling, literally yelling like I couldn’t fucking hear him.

“I was helping Sue with gathering the rest of the group up to their rooms, how am I supposed to watch her and do that?” Mike yelled back. They had been doing this for a while. They sent me to my room like a child while they argued in Jared’s room like divorcing parents.

“You realize you don’t need to watch me like a two year old?” I said to no one in particular, not as if they could hear me anyways.

“I am sure a woman who has been running this house for over 20 years is able to run off a few residents to their rooms!” Jared yelled back.

“Well where the fuck were you? Huh, where were you when shit went down and I was helping out the house? In here, with your books?” Mike challenged. I don’t know what kind of response was made but Mike scoffed. “Yeah, that is what I thought. Try being involved with something other then fucking books and files and I guarantee you that you will reach her a lot faster!”

I heard boots approaching my room and I stood up fast and watched Mike enter my room again. He walked to me and grabbed my wrist pulling me with him as he headed for the door. I didn’t say anything as he dragged me through the house and down stairs. They must have been arguing for a while because the house was practically empty and quiet. We hit the porch and started for the stairs and I hissed at him “Mike, where are we going?”

He stopped and let me go scrubbing his face. “I don’t know, just away from that room before I punched your shrink in the face.”

I giggled and sat on the steps pulling out a smoke, lighting it and handing it to Mike. I know he didn’t often smoke, but he looked like tonight he probably needed it. He took it without arguing and took a long drag. I lit myself one and looked up at him. “What’s up Mike, what is going on?”

He sighed and shook his head. “Your shrink seems to think that I should be 100% baby sitting you or else not be at the house as often as I am.”

I frowned. “I just told him today that you are the only friend I have, how is keeping you away constructive?”

Mike shrugged and flicked his smoke offering a hand up, which I took. “I am going to go home before I change my mind on the shrink punching.”

I grinned up at him. “Alright Mike, I will see you tomorrow.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. “I actually have something to do tomorrow.” I frowned and nodded. “Alright, next day then.”

He nodded and looked undecided for a moment before leaning forward and kissing my forehead. I had to smile a little as he walked away so fast it looked like he had a sudden case of diarrhea that he had to get home to take care of.

I watched him drive away before I headed back into the house. I wonder if he wasn’t coming tomorrow because of Jared. What could Jared have said to Mike to make him stay away?

I was so busy thinking this over I didn’t notice the darkness of the house until I reached the top of the stairs. The eerie pitch that was dotted with little slivers of light coming out from underneath each room’s door. I slowly made my way along the hallway feeling the childish paranoia of what lurks in the shadows was quickly coming over me.

There was the sound of someone opening a door and the flood of light filled the hallway. I am not sure why I was compelled to hide, but I did, ducking into the upstairs common room behind one of the old looking recliner chairs. Heavy foot steps headed down the hall and I peeked as best as I could around the huge chair.

“No, she said bells.” Leah’s parole officer, Capt. Pretty said as he walked past the room. “I didn’t know if she was losing it again or it meant something until the woman that was standing out side the rooms watching it all happen, started shit with another resident. I found out from her therapist that her name is Isabella…”

I watched him go by and narrowed my eyes, slipping back down the hall and into Lee’s room. I closed the door as quietly as possible and looked around the room. There on the bed was Lee, her eyes were half open and she was groaning. I quickly made my way to her side and sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at her. “Lee, what the fuck are you doing here?”

She looked up at me like, but she didn’t really see me. Her hand went up then dropped to her side again with a heavy flop. “Why are you haunting me? You’re dead, what are you trying to do? Drive me back into the fucking nuthouse?”

I rolled my eyes at her and grabbed her hand putting it to my face. “You moron, I am right here. I am not dead, how could you be touching me if I am dead?”

“I have some pretty vivid fucking dreams, Bells.” She snapped, jerking her hand away.

I sighed. “Okay, what did you tell me at the hospital when I was having night terrors?” I lifted her hand again and put it in front of her face. “In dreams, you never have the correct amount of fingers. So look at your hand, do you see that? Five fingers.”

She stared at her hand frowning and then jerked so fast it made me jump to my feet. “This isn’t a dream. You’re real, here right now.”

I grinned sitting again. “I am here, right now.”

“Holy shit.” She frowned touching my arm. “But… the nurses said…at the hospital, you killed yourself.”

I smiled, but shook my head sadly. “No, that was Rebecca. Becka got out and her family shunned her and she didn’t get in with the work program. She started using again the second she got out from what I found out. She just…” I took a breath. “Lost the game.”

Lee scrubbed her face and shook her head, muttering under her breath. “Stupid bitch.”

I nodded in agreement, but then grinned back at her. “So they let you out finally?”

She tried to sit up, but quickly changed her mind lying back down with her eyes closed, breathing deeply. I felt for her, coming off of Adivan sucks. “Yeah if you can call this place out.”

I nodded, even though she had her eyes closed and couldn’t see me. “Looks like you got pick of the litter for a parole officer.”

She snorted peeking an eye open at me. “You have no fucking clue.”

“No, you obviously don’t have any fucking clue if you are in here right now.” Growled a voice behind us which was followed by the slam of the door. Capt. Pretty was standing there looking very angry, although I am entirely convinced that it was his normal look. “What do you think you are doing in here?”

I stood, my shock having worn off, and faced him fully. “Listen Captain Pretty, you don’t scare me like you seem to think you do, so knock the tough guy shit out. I have been around people and places that would make your pretty little face crumble with tears.”

He smirked coldly at me, but I didn’t even flinch. “That is so adorable that you think that your little stint in the Looney bin and jaunt through prison means that you are some tough bitch that has seen the world.”

I felt my anger rising and I balled my fists. “You have no idea what I have seen or not seen you fucking glorified babysitter! If you want to see how fucking tough I am, come and try me you—”

“Pa fè l.” Lee said softly from the bed. I stopped and looked at her. It had been almost a year since I had heard Creole and it took me by surprise. Don’t do it, she said. I opened my mouth to respond and she just shook her head again. “Jis pa, se pa yon valè li e li pa konprann nou.” Just don't, it's not worth it and he doesn't understand us.

I sighed and nodded, looking back at him and smirking at the confused look on his face. “Okay hotshot, you win, but how about a scene like today doesn’t fucking happen again, do you hear me?”

Angry man was back. “You are seriously threatening me right now?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely and I won’t do it again because, if I hear her screaming for you to get off her again…” I said without batting an eye letting a dangerous smirk cross my lips. “I will hunt you down and slice your cock off your package and use it as a pencil to write Ginger Beer across your forehead.”

There was a small growl from Capt. Pretty and a giggle from Lee on the bed. “She will too.”

He advanced on me, grabbing my left wrist, though I am not sure which form of painful removal he was going to go for, but he stopped when he saw my wrists, the little tattoo blatantly visible. He stared at it for a little bit before looking between Lee and I and letting my wrist go. He was looking at Lee but talking to me. “You need to leave. She has had a long day and I have a feeling tomorrow isn’t going to be any shorter.”

I looked at Lee who nodded so I headed for the door without a word and slipped into the hallway again. Jared was either in his room sleeping already or wasn’t in the room, so I flopped onto the bed and closed my eyes and promptly passed out.

The next morning I was surprised to wake on my own, no annoying shrink to bring me breakfast and get me ‘up and at’um’.  Instead Mike was sitting in the small wicker chair in the corner of my room, looking glum. I stretched and smirked looking at him. “I thought you had stuff to do today.”

He nodded and shrugged. “Something else came up. Come on you need to get dressed. Are you eating breakfast?”

I made a face and shook my head making a tiny smirk cross his lips. “Of course not. You know if you keep refusing meals that ol’ shrink wrap is going to order you meds that make you eat right? Or admit you into the hospital for trying to starve yourself.”

I snorted getting up and walking to the bathroom, leaving the door open. “Mrs. Smiley—”

“Sue.” Mike corrected.

“Right, well she has one of the nut jobs cooking this week. Have you tasted what this woman cooks? Yesterday my eggs had shells in them and I am pretty sure she used no filter when she brewed the coffee.” I finished peeing and flushed, grabbing my toothbrush and walking into the bedroom to grab my clothes as I brushed.

“Fine, tomorrow I will bring you breakfast, but you have to eat.” Mike said, scrubbing his face. He looked tired.

I walked back into the bathroom and shucked my clothes, changing into my usual jeans and hoody. I slapped some deodorant on and grunted at my hair before grabbing a hair tie and pulling it back, giving it the illusion of being brushed. I came out and grinned at him, holding my arms out and giving a quick one spin. “Okay, dressed and ready to face the day.”

He stood and led the way out the door and I followed obediently, frowning as I went. What was going on? Why did he look so grim? I quickly thought back at anything I managed to do that might warrant me getting sent back to prison. I stopped suddenly as it dawned on me.

Capt. Pretty turned me in for my late night visit to Lee last night. Mike must have heard my footsteps stop because he turned, looking back at me. “Swan, lets go. Don’t make this harder for me then it is.”

“Harder for you…?” I went into panic. “Mike, come on, Mike. You can’t be sending me back.” I said quickly walking over to him grabbing his hands and looking up into his eyes. “Mike, please don’t do this. I didn’t even do anything, I just wanted to talk to her and Capt. Pretty came in and…I swear Mike I didn’t do anything.”

Mike closed his eyes and swore under his breath. “Swan, you threatened my superior. I have no control over this and if you make me carry you, it’s going to be worse for you.” I tried to pull away from his hands and back up but he saw it coming and held me tight. “Don’t swan because if you try to fight me, I will win and I won’t be gentle.”

Too bad it was not the time to make a joke about that, because it was the perfect set up. “Normally I wouldn’t mind that, but you don’t expect me to go to prison quietly do you?”

He frowned for a second and then his features smoothed quickly jerking my arm and kneeling so that I was gracefully deposited over his shoulder. “Oh my god you are such an asshole Mike! I will never forgive you for this! You are no better then fucking Shrinky!” I shrieked, punching at his back, making sure to get some kidney shots in. Mike paid no more attention to me then if I was a tiny house fly, annoying but harmless.

He walked down stairs and then instead of heading for the door, he headed around the corner and then down the basement stairs. I didn’t even notice. I was blindly cussing him out in Creole. Having used it last night brought it all out me of me again. “Ou fukin bata! Ou pi bon mete m 'desann kounye a oswa konsa ede m', Bondye mwen pral rele ke ou yo ap eseye vyole m'!” (You fucking bastard! You better put me down now or so help me God I will scream that you are trying to rape me!)

I was suddenly falling off his shoulder and roughly dropped onto my ass on an old couch in an almost empty room. It was hardly bigger then a bedroom and had three fold out chairs placed in front of the couch. I was still breathing hard as I looked around and realized that not only did we not go to the transport van like I assumed we would, but Lee, the shy chick and both of their parole officers were in the room with me. I looked at Mike with a cross of anger and confusion. “What the fuck, Mike?”

Lee snorted handing me a cigarette. “That seems to be the question of the moment.”

I looked at the guys and lay back, lighting my cigarette with the offered lighter. “Alright guys, let hear this. What the fuck is going on?”

The three guys looked at each other before looking back at us. Psycho Parole officer, shy-girls guy, stepped forward slightly, sitting on one of the chairs that were lined in front of us. “Talo—”

“Ha! I told you she was the Talo!” I said triumphantly looking at Mike whose mouth corners twitched. The Psycho turned and glared at me and I glared back.

He turned back to the shy girl and went on. “Talo, I know you think this place won’t help and you want to be home, but just look at how that meeting with the shrink went. Could you do that all day everyday? Without me or sue or anything else as a buffer between you and your brother?”

She looked at him and shook her head almost grudgingly. He nodded and smiled slightly. “Good, now I know these men here, I work with them so from now on; all three of us are not your individual parole officers. Not according to us. All three of us are ALL of your parole officers.”

All three of us sat up straight. “What?!”

Captain Pretty looked at us with a triumphant smirk. “That is right kids, since the three of you seem to be unable to deal with NOT getting into trouble with each other, you have now sealed the deal on three wardens.”

I looked at Mike, who expertly avoided my gaze. “Are you fucking kidding me? Mike, this is bullshit and you know it. I don’t need three baby sitters.” I looked at Captain Pretty and narrowed my eyes. “This was your fucking idea, because you get your rocks off by torturing us girls.”

Shy girl’s parole officer and Mike both coughed, but the good captain just looked at me. “You have almost killed people on four separate occasions. You have a blatant disregard for rules, seeing how you snuck into my charges room last night and on top of everything else, I have a serious inquiry on just how close you are with your parole officer.”

I stood up only to be shoved back down again by Mike, who had grown balls enough to finally look at me. “Swan, chill the fuck out. I can’t be here all the time and when I am not, they are right, you need to be looked after.”

Lee spoke up looking at Mike and shy girl’s parole officer. “Well I may be the only one that is perfectly fine with this arrangement.” She said winking at Mike. “However, I still wouldn’t wish Sergeant here on anyone, not even my worst enemy.”

He looked at her and gave her a brilliant smile, which just made him even more pretty. Seriously, I wanted to put lipstick on the guy and put him on a corner to make me some money. “You, Clearwater, are here because it is obvious that I and you have shit to get through, so your headquack thinks it would be a good idea if I wasn’t all present in your recovery process. If I comply, I need someone to be watching you while I am not here.”

“That is the biggest cop-out I have ever heard.” She snapped back. “You would never do what some fucking shrink told you to do.”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I got orders because of a call that your fucking queer shrink put in to my department.”

Lee burst out laughing, which of course made him growl in frustration. Shy girl’s parole officer stepped in before things got out of hand. “Look we have worked with sue to make it so that all chores, fieldtrips and practically everything else that is to be done while you three are in this house will be done together.”

Mike nodded and looked at each of us in turn. “The only time you are excused is when an individual parole officer or your assigned shrink pulls one of you away.”

“Sa se bullshit nèt sou tout pwen.” This is complete bullshit.

Lee and I both snapped our heads to the side to look where that came from. Our joint sudden movement made Shy Girl jump a little and look at us like we were insane. Lee looked at the boys, who all looked confused, although Captain Pretty looked annoyed, having heard us speak Creole the other night.

I laughed. “Èske ou trè enfliyan?” Are you fluent?

Shy Girl nodded and smirked at us. Well, they wanted us to bond. Lee looked at the both of us in turn and grinned wide. “Byen, paske m' ap ki pou di osi lontan ke sa a kontra avèk twa gardiens dure, nou pale pa gen anyen nan Angle.” Good, because I say that for as long as this deal with three babysitters lasts, we speak nothing of English.

I laughed hard and nodded. Shy Girl looked at her parole officer and back at us and a small smirk formed on her lips as she nodded too.


POSTED: The Home

Rachel 5



"What are you doing here?” Lahote set me down on my feet inside Dr. McCarty’s office for my one on one. Jake stood with the Dr smiling at me. The anger in my tone sucked the positive vibes right out of the room.



"I asked him to come. I think a family session is in need." The doc spoke for Jake and nodded for Lahote to leave, but I grabbed his arm shaking my head. "I don't want this. I requested no family sessions until I was ready. It was agreed by my other therapist." Lahote looked at me then to the guys and sighed.



"This is out of my jurisdiction Talo." The regret was evident as he backed toward the door opening it. When I looked back to Jake and the Doc they were whispering to one another. I covered my face feeling caged in. "Jake don't force this on me. I thought we had an understanding."



“ We did. But this isn't exactly what you think. We will be doing the talking." Jake walked over to me trying to be comforting, but there was an uneven awkward edge to his tone that freaked me out. Whatever it is I was not ready for it. I didn't need any bad news when I was just starting to get the hang of all this.



"Talking about what exactly?" I asked inching towards the door. I didn't notice Lahote still standing there until I bumped into him. His hands rested on my shoulders then slowly turned me around to face them. "I won't stay unless he does." I surprised even my self when the demand for my PO to be present flew from my mouth. Both Jake and the Doc nodded agreeing and Lahote stood at the back of the room not saying a word. Something about him being there was comforting.



"Rachel, as you know we have had quite a few sessions now, in which during I have closely evaluated you.” I slowly sat down trying to understand exactly what Dr McCarty was trying to get at. Jake was looking at me with his hands pressed together, pushed against his face, his nose buried between the small creases of his hands. “I have come to the conclusion in my professional opinion that you are Bi-Polar. Actually, the correct term would be server Bi-Polar disorder."



WHAT?” I shoot up out my seat shaking my head waving my arms in front of me. "You are on crack! There is nothing wrong with me like that. My god, all I did was take pills and now I am a nut case?!” I didn't even care that Jake seemed disgusted by my reaction, I was not going to be labeled crazy for the rest of my life for getting high a few times.



"I believe that your drug abuse has triggered it. For the most part, Jake has recalled you as being short tempered growing up and your outburst during out last session were clear signs." I could swear he almost seemed amused while he explained his bullshit diagnoses.



I looked to my brother with betrayal for his part in this. "Jake? You agree with him?" I couldn't believe he would do this to me. How could my own brother believe this crap?



"Rachel, you have a lot of mood swings. You’re either extremely happy, beyond pissed, or so sad that you would attempt take your own life. When dad died something inside you snapped. You’ve changed sis." I could see the concern in his face and at the time, I didn’t care for his concern.



"This isn't your fault, Talo" Said a voice behind me. I had forgotten Lahote was in the room and I looked back at him frowning realizing that everyone in this room thought I was a nut case. I could do this one of two ways. Option one being flip out, cussing them all out proving to them the very point that I am trying to negate, that I am crazy. Or two, I could make them all look like a bunch of dick-less assholes, who have no fucking clue  what they are talking about. I smiled sweetly at all three of them and stood up calmly.



"I can see why you all would come to this conclusion. I have not been exactly sane the past few months. I will comply with everything and anything you need from me." I could have sworn Lahote coughed a laugh. My brow arched glancing back at him daring him to say something against me. All he did was wink at me fold his arms, amused with my
calm behavior.



"That is great Rachel, wow. I was honestly worried this was going to send you into—”

I cut Jake off fighting against myself not to ball my hands into fist and punch the stupid relieved grin off his face. "A bitch fit? Jakey, I get why you are quick to join in with the Quack… I mean doc, but I think maybe you're having a hard time dealing with your own issues at the moment. “I smiled at his confused face and went on. “Like the fact you slept with that psychotic bitch who popped your um… what did she call it?" I used my fingers as quotes keeping my tone calm and steady. "Man Cherry? Not that I really what to know, but what kind of kinky stuff are you into? "



I just kept that smile plastered on my face, giggling to myself while his eyes narrowed as he took a step closer to me. He could say I have a short fuss all he wants but Jacob Black’s fuse would always light up in flames quicker then mine. "Watch yourself Rachel. You don't know that girl or our history." The quiet hiss behind his words assured me I had him. I just had to pinch the nerve a little harder to make him snap like a twig. Game over. Check mate. Win.



"Isn't she my age? Wow, what is she, a child molester? Gross. Maybe you should be the one talking to the good Doctor here or better yet, get checked out for STDs. I mean from the way she talked about it, I would bet you were not her first.”



Jacob shook his head and clenched his jaw. “She is the same age as me and why are we even talking about this?”



I felt Lahote move closer behind me leaning down whispering in my ear. "Knock it off before you make it worse." I looked up at him with an innocent smile, but I could feel the devilish glare flickering in my eyes.



"Rachel, I know what you are doing and that does not work in a case like yours." The Dr. McCarty tried to speak as if he had some sort of authority over me. I turned to face him shrugging my shoulders. "I am only proving a point."



“ And what point is that, Rachel?" The doctor questioned curiously as me scribbled down in his note pad.



I put back on my sweet voice and looked directly at the doctor. "Well for one, my brother couldn't find himself a nice girl to loose it to, so he went for the town slut."



It was written all over Jake’s face, which made me grin with triumph. Snap. Win. “ Damn it Rachel! What the fuck is wrong with you? We are trying to help you and get you back to the way you used to be and you go pulling stupid fucking shit like this! How dare you bring someone into your shit storm just because you can't come to reality that you are not perfect?"



Snap. Lose. "Hold the fuck up, I am the first person to say I am not perfect. Why are you so pushy about me being how I was? Did you ever stop and think, hey maybe that wasn't her and she is just now being herself?” I snapped back loosing at my own game.



"How were you not ever yourself? You had ever opportunity in the world handed to you. You always had everything you could ever want. Why are you acting like you had something taken from you?” He just didn't get it. He never would, even if I spelled it out for him and spoke really slow. I just turned to walk away, but Lahote's hard chest knocked me back a few steps and his dangerous glare made me shiver. He took my wrist, moving me behind him.



"Think about one thing Jacob.” Lahote said, his glare moving between Jake and the Doctor. “She was the chief’s daughter. Her every move was watched, judged, and talked about. If she wasn't perfect, you bet your ass the whole town was gossiping about it. Try being yourself under that amount of pressure." Lahote opened the door, ignoring when Dr. McCarty called out about not being done yet, and led me down the hall, but not directly to my room like I assumed was going to happen.



"I am normal. I am not Bi-Polar." I muttered more to myself then anyone else as I followed his lead. Lahote looked down at me, stopping in front of a door. I leaned against it and he stretched his arms up and leaning forward and catching himself on the door looking down at me with a kind smile.



"Listen, you are a little bi-polar, but truthfully I think everyone is bi-polar to some degree." My lips parted to protest, but he quickly put a finger over them, which I could have licked, but luckily I did have some sort of self-control. "You need to get along with some of the other girls here. I am not saying be BFF’s, but I want to see you have girls to confided in and hangout with. I know you say you don't like some, but I know if you would give it a chance you would have fun with them. That is why I set this up. You trust me right?"



I let out a loud sigh dropping my head back on the wall looking up into his dark eyes seeing the sincerity in them. My hands moved to his shoulders we both stayed silent for a long moment. I had become lost in the enchanting world of mystery that is Paul Lahote’s eyes. I kept telling myself to speak, but I just couldn't get any words out. Lahote shut his eyes dropping his head like he was ashamed of himself. “I’ll make a deal with you…” I finally got the words out, but they were not the ones I had planned to speak.



"What kind of deal?" Lahote pushed himself off the wall putting space between us, I was waiting for his eyes to once again find mine, but he avoiding looking directly at me.



"Let me call you Paul and I'll go in and behave myself.” I don't know it bothered me so much that he didn't allow me to call him by his first name but it did, more and more every day. Lahote eyes snapped up at me he looked puzzled scratching his scruffy beard. “Why does it matter what you call me?"



“ Because it shows that you trust me." I whispered, being honest. Being so formal with him and still being expected to share such intimate details about me and parts of my life made me feel like he didn't really trust me. I know I was just a charge to him, but I always hear all the other girls calling their POS by first name and I didn't understand why I couldn't with him.



"Alright, I do trust you and I guess we are past the whole professional crap huh?" I could feel him grin but I didn't look up because I knew my smile would give me away. Instead I just turned around opening the door to the room where my hand picked friends would be walking in the small room playing out different scenarios in my head.



"Um…?" I turned to face him confused. "So where are these girls you desperately want me to get along with Paul?" He chuckled pointing to the couch for me to sit down. He pulled up a metal fold up chair and dragged it closer, sitting next to me shaking his head amused. "They will be here. They are not as easy as you are and they tend to fight their POs on just about everything. Just wait patiently, Talo."



Once everyone had finally entered the room I sat sitting as far away from the other two as I could manage on the couch crossing my arms in a pout. I was seriously reconsidering this deal. Now that I think about it, I can go back to calling him Lahote. I don’t need friends. Especially not friends like these particularly crazy ones. The new one that was fist fighting naked with her P.O. yesterday and low and behold, my favorite slut was in here too, coming into the room courtesy of her P.O. physically carrying her.



Paul walked over taking a seat in the chair in front of me. "Talo—”



"Ha! I told you she was Talo!" My eyes rolled hearing the slut brag about figuring out who I was. Paul looked over at her with a mean glare before turning his attention back to me, speaking softly. "Talo, I know you think this place won't help and you want to be home, but just look at how that meeting with the Doctor went. Could you do that all day everyday? Without me or sue or anything else as a buffer between you and your brother?"



I knew he was right but I wasn't ready to admit it out loud. I took a moment, but agreed with a slight nod of my head. "Good, now I know these men here, I work with them so from now on all three of us are not your individual parole officers. Not according to us. All three of us are ALL of your parole officers."



"What?!" All three of us sounded shocked and pissed. I was slightly jealous to share my new friend with the other two. Especially Swan. I have seen her with her PO she practically begs him to fuck her. The other girl, Leah or Lee, just looked mean, like she had bitch written all over her face, meaning she will challenge Paul and take his attention away.
Lahote was my parole officer but I felt like he was also my friend. The only one I had left in this planet.



"That is right kids, since the three of you seem to be unable to deal with NOT getting into trouble with each other you have now sealed the deal on three wardens." This had to be some sort of joke. He was not seriously going to let these two assholes have a say on my outcome?



Swan sat up glaring at her PO who would barely look at her. It was easy to say who was really in control there. "Are you fucking kidding me? Mike, this is bullshit and you know it. I don't need three baby sitters.” Swan turned her glare, a more hatful and scary one, to Lee's PO. I couldn't help, but to grin watching her call him out on his shit. "This was your fucking idea, because you get your rocks off by torturing us girls."



I watched her scream at the man, he didn't even blink. I thought Paul was a big Jerk but this guy would be a nightmare to have to deal with. Why would Lahote willingly do this to me? 



His eyes narrowed and his tone dropped to a hard powerful almost growl. "You have almost killed people on four separate occasions.” Good information to have. “You have a blatant disregard for rules, seeing how you snuck into my charges room last night and on top of everything else, I have a serious inquiry on just how close you are with your parole officer." Swan was on her feet in a hot second.



When Mike pushed her back down I found myself shifting in my seat, getting angry for her. These three dicks must get off on the power to control us. Not letting us have a say in anything we do. What was the point of coming here if it's worst then prison would be? "Swan, chill the fuck out. I can't be here all the time and when I am not, they are
right, you need to be looked after."



Lee seemed bored with the argument and to be honest somewhat relieved. But then again if I had her PO full time, I wouldn't mind the change up either.  "Well I may be the only one that is perfectly fine with this arrangement." She said winking at Mike. "However, I still wouldn't wish Sergeant here on anyone, not even my worst enemy."



“ You, Clearwater, are here because it is obvious that I and you have shit to get through, so your headquack thinks it would be a good idea if I wasn't all present in your recovery process. If I comply, I need someone to be watching you while I am not here." My brow arched at the way he talked down to her, shaking my head not agreeing with any of
this. How was any of it so called recovery?



"That is the biggest cop-out I have ever heard." She snapped back. "You would never do what some fucking shrink told you to do."



The discussion was taking a nasty turn I kicked my foot out hitting Paul who looked at me confused. I was ticking my head to the side trying to silently ask him to step in to help and not sit there grinning like an idiot watching a good soap opera. “I got orders because of a call that your fucking queer shrink put in to my department." Quil said, finally coming out with the truth.



"Look, we have worked with Sue to make it so that all chores, fieldtrips, and practically everything else that is to be done while you three are in this house, will be done together."



Mike nodded, giving us all a authorities three second glance. "The only time you are excused is when an individual parole officer or your assigned shrink pulls one of you away."



"Sa se bullshit nèt sou tout pwen." This is complete bullshit. I mutter sure that no one would understand huffing sitting back in my seat crossing my arms when suddenly both girls where staring at me with huge shit eating grins.



  "Èske ou trè enfliyan?" Are you fluent? Swan asked with a laugh looking back at Lee. I nodded grinning having an idea where this was leading.



"Byen, paske m' ap ki pou di osi lontan ke sa a kontra avèk twa gardiens dure, nou pale pa gen anyen nan Angle." Good, because I say that for as long as this deal with three babysitters lasts, we speak nothing of English. I nodded fast smiling loving the idea. When I glanced to Paul he was watching intently trying to figure out what the hell was going on between the three of us.

"Don't you dare look at me like that you trader." I spat out at Lahote I felt let down by him, like all the so called progress we made in trust was a bunch of bullshit. "Talo, knock it off. You said you—” 

I cut him off standing up not even realizing everyone was now watching us. "What? Trust you Paul?! I did I trusted you not to throw me to some psycho wolves!" I pointed to Quil. "That one there beats his charges, like he did Lee the other night. She was screaming like he was going to rape her. You think I am safe with someone like that? Or how about Mr. Smooth over there?" I said nodding to Mike. “You think he’s going to be able to keep his dick in his pants long enough to help me fucking recover? You’re not supposed to just pawn me off like some burden you piece of shit! It's your job, isn't it? Isn't that what you keep fucking telling me, you lying bastard?!" I don't know at what point I started to yell but it must have been when Paul actually dragged me out the room. All I know is one minute we are in that damn room and the next outside on the porch, away from the front doors.



"Are you calm enough to talk like a normal adult?" Lahote was leaning against the railing with his head hung down, not looking at me.



I shook my head still angry at him. "I didn't realize I was too much for you to handle on your own. You have to go and call in bigger dicks to fuck me over." I snapped bringing both my hands to my scalp and pulling at my hair, feeling way to many emotions at once.



Lahote charged at me pinning me to the wall with his body. Everything about his movements said anger, but he let out a breath and there it was again...The worry, the concern.

He cupped my cheeks, looking into my eyes searchingly and shaking his head. "No. Talo I did this to help you, please try to see that. I did this because in some points of our—” He paused stumped for words he just stopped, pressing his forehead to mine once again making my heart break for him. I wanted to hug him, but I know the second I did he would pull away. "I did this because I can handle you, but as much as I don't want to admit this you have a way of handling me too." He backed away turning away from me planting his hands on the deck railing leaning back then pushing himself forward. I watched his right side up pushup as I puzzled over trying to figure out what that he meant.




"You have had a long day Talo. Get some rest. I will see you tomorrow." He said and walked away without even looking back at me. I couldn't speak even if I wanted to. I just walked to my room in a confused state trying to decipher his last comment.



How is it that I handle him? Why are his panties in a bunch over it? Is it because I can relate to him or because he actually sees me as a human and not a file? I am not a file and either is Lee, or Swan. They might be rude as hell and bitchy but we are human. No one should treat us any differently.



In fact I think that is a lesson these boys will have to learn.

POSTED: The Home

Leah 3



There was a short span of time, maybe a minute or two, which my eyes looked awkwardly around my new room in my attempt to not gawk at Mr. Jasper standing before me, eyeing me with skepticism.
In my mind there’s no doubt he is studying me trying to pinpoint different characteristics that he’s been pining over in my file as he tried to get to know me. The idea is comical at least. People who think they can get to know another human being by reading a stack of papers about them, clearly have no real world communication skills or experience. They really need their eyes opened, if you ask me.
Shifting on my heels as the seconds tick by in silence I finally look square at the statuesque blonde male who’s made himself at home, perched on the edge of my bed with his elbows on his knees and hands clasped in support of his chin. A strange feeling of being comfortable with this new roommate calms me enough to blow out a breath and open my mouth to voice a question, any kind of question to break the silence.
“What happened this morning?” Jasper’s voice was the one to break the silence, making me snap my mouth shut and turn my eyes on him with a furrow to my brow.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Doc.” The unease in the pit of my stomach that always tends to flair when I am uncertain of things around me was fully present.
With a nod of his head in the general direction of my cuffed hands, Jasper clarified the intention lying behind his question, “The cuffs, Leah. What happened this morning that sparked your parole officer, Sergeant Ateara to deem it necessary that you be restrained for transport?”
I gave a disgruntled huff combined with a shrug that was less than half-hearted. “Nothing happened. Honestly, my parole officer is just a little … Well, I don’t know the word, but I s’pose you could say I think he’s compensating. If you know what I mean.” Flashing a brilliantly sarcastic grin and a wink I couldn’t help but burst in to laughter when all he could do was shake his head and stand from his perched position.
Originally I thought it was Jasper’s way of responding to anything slightly uncomfortable, but when I saw him disappear through the door he had appeared from earlier before returning with a notepad and pen scribbling as he moved I frowned. What the hell could he be writing already? This isn’t a damn session, therefore there is nothing, and I do mean nothing noteworthy being said. With a few too-fast steps I closed the space to try peering over his shoulder anxiously. “What’s this about? What the hell could you write about me already?” There was no way of hiding the clipped tone in which my words came flying out of my mouth, completely lacking a filter.
“I am your counselor, Leah. You will have to grow accustomed to my constant writing as it is a vital part of my job in helping you.” The fact that he never even looked up from the pad as he spoke really was grating on my nerves.
“That wasn’t an answer to my question, Doc.” This time my tone was enough to cause him to look up from his writings. “What are you writing?”
With a slow, unthreatening gesture of his hand Jasper waved to the white paper of his portfolio folder in an invitation to read his scrawling. My eyes took in the words in the same time Jasper spoke them from memory, “Turns to the use of sarcasm when uncomfortable.”
My feet faltered, betraying the façade of being unaffected by how easily this man I’ve known for mere minutes can see straight through me, in their slight stumble backwards. Had my hands been free to move, they would have flown out wide at my sides to help center my balance before falling flat on my ass, but the cuffs prevented this possibility from happening. With a sharp intake of air I was shaking my head and doing my best to recompose myself, “You’re right, Doc. I am not uncomfortable with anything. I’ve got thick, impenetrable skin. Ain’t nothing going to get to me.”
Jasper took the entire portfolio, pen and all, and set it on top of the dresser then tucked his hands in to his pockets to cross the room. He was clearly taking his time in forming a response, but at least he isn’t writing more bullshit. Hiking the material of his jeans just a tad, he takes a seat on the edge of my bed again, this time lacing his fingers together to look like a steeple of a church in front of his mouth. As he spoke, the effort of carefully calculating exactly how his words come out is visible in his features. “Okay, Leah. I am relieved you are not uncomfortable. You see, the more comfortable you are with me, I find the easier our counseling sessions will be.” Jasper gave a warm and welcoming smile before he continued, “Tell me, what brought about the cuffs this morning? Do you feel they were necessary or an abuse of power over you?”
“It was absolutely an abuse of power of me!” The exclamation flew past my lips before I could process what they were. Just the fact he had taken the time to ask my opinion of how I was feeling made me feel like he was in my corner, and who the hell am I to buck anyone that voluntarily steps in to my corner? “I swear I didn’t do anything to warrant this, Jazz,” The random nickname that was thrown out caused one eyebrow to rise in question, but there was no interruption to my rant. “All I want to do was—”
“Run.” Quil’s voice broke in to room cutting off my words without permission. Spinning to my right I see him lock eyes on Jasper as if he were looking down on a lesser individual that dare have the audacity of breathing the same oxygen as he. “She had just been released from the body cuffs by a guard of the court, took one look at me as her parole officer, and she bolted for the door. She’s a proven flight risk, Doc.”
A growl rumbled in my chest, not loud enough to draw attention from either of the men, but enough that I could both feel and hear it, “You’re full of shit and you know it.”
“Now, Leah, as a court-appointed officer,”
Counselor.” Quil interrupted Jasper making the correction that he felt imperative be made.
You could almost hear Jasper roll his eyes as he self-corrected per Quil’s help, “Of course, as I was saying, a court-appointed counselor, it is my duty to make decisions that are in everyone’s best interest. And if Sergeant Ateara here thinks you’re better off in restraints, I have a choice to make. Do I keep you restrained and keep you cuffed? Or do I simply sedate you?”
“No drugs, please.” I said quickly as my eyes moved between both men, first Jasper then to Quil, continuing to plead my case. “Please Quilly, you know me. No drugs, no cuffs. I’ll behave, play by your rules, and follow your directions without question…”
Just as it has always done before, Quil’s jaw muscle ticked when he was quite literally biting back some sort of pissed off comment. I watch that muscle tick over and over, feeling my chance at being allowed to be uncuffed slip further and further out of my reach. “You will call me Sergeant, Sarge, or Officer, Clearwater.” Tick. Tick. Tick go the jaw muscles. With a curt shake of his head to punctuate his final “No,” that has me so concentrated as my anger fumes from my ears, I am unaware of two things: Quil silently released the cuffs from my wrists; and Jasper rose from the bed and joined me at my side to have an unspoken conversation with Quil that I will never be privy to understand.
My own personal boiling point quickly hit as a result of Quil’s asshole ways. However, in the blink of an eye I went from sucking in a deep breath to go off and blast my damn parole officer to being whisked away down the stairs to the basement of the home, with Jasper talking beside me about having a one-on-one session in the one private room specifically designed for such. I wasn’t complaining, I mean any time away with him meant that I don’t have to deal with Quil acting as though he is my new God, who is to be prayed to.
Making my way down the hallway beside Jasper, my eyes fall upon the smoking woman from the porch earlier. The ghost, in my mind. Try as I might I still cannot place her face without an eerie haunting feeling. As we pass each other, our left wrist must have been swung wide at the same time and clipped each other. “Hey, you want to watch where you’re fucking walking?!”
I snapped and Jasper’s hand quickly came down on my shoulder to keep me moving right as the ghost barked back, “You want to fucking make me?” and balled her fists at her side. We both side-eyed each other as our forward momentum had halted. It was a scene similar to what might be seen in a movie where two felons face off and circle each other to make their presence known.
“Keep moving, Leah,” I felt a sharp finger jab in to my ribs as Jasper urged me forward to our destination which was plainly in sight.
“I will see you later then, Lee,” the ghost chimed out, breaking my concentration. The smirk and the wink that accompanied the tone stood my hair on end.
“Tonight.” It was a promise that was easily kept, given the living situation, and it brought a smirk of my own to toy at my lips. Another more forceful poke to my side and Jasper had me marching forward to the room where Sue stood waving us in side, meanwhile the ghost was being guided a bit more sternly by the young looking gentleman with her. “Hey, calm the poking, Doc.”
Jasper and I sat in the room, me taking the uncomfortable oversized chair that was obviously distinguished as being for the patients and him, sitting in the plush office chair across from me with hands folded over his portfolio once again, but I was distracted.
 First and foremost, by the ghost from the hallway and secondly, by the desire to have a shower. That’s all I could think of, with great frequency, today. Jasper made several attempts to get me to start talking, even with as mindless questions as to ask what my favorite color is, my birth date, and about my family. There were a few things that I could robotically answer without having to devote any real brainpower to forming them, so I did.
Eventually though Jasper grew impatient with my lack of cooperation and he gave in to my incessant begging for a shower and a chance to get cleaned up before dinner. As we made our way back up to the room in which I will be staying he tried having one of those doctor and ever-grateful-patient moments. “You know, Leah, it will be a very long two years for you if you refuse to speak to me about anything of relevance. Seeing as today is your first day here, I will allow for you to get yourself acclimated to this living situation, but I won’t always be so forgiving. You must understand this, up front. I’ve expectations in place for our synchronized relationship. You cooperate and I bother you less with these sessions.” Just to emphasize the point Jasper was trying to make, I gave a very cooperative grunt as my only reply.

My mind was racing a million miles a minute trying to sort through all of the events of the day as the hot water of the shower poured over me. It was one thing that I never grew out of from the time I was a young child until now. My brain happens to fire to life when my head is submerged in water. Whether it is a swimming pool, the ocean, a heavy rainfall, a filled bathtub, or a shower stream, my brain comes to life allowing my best thinking to take place. Perhaps it would be beneficial to Jasper’s work if I suggest moving our counseling sessions to the shower that could make things much more fruitful.
One of the most present things on my mind is the face of the ghost woman. I had first seen her on the porch when Quil pulled the car in to the driveway and there was something familiar there, it was both in her face and in the way she smoked her cigarette, but I couldn’t figure it out. Then there was the moment down in the hallway while on my way to what should have been a counseling session; the familiarity was there again. Lifting my hands to comb my fingers through my wet hair and the small tattoo on the inside of my left wrist catches my eye and my brain is flooded with the exact memory it had been searching for.
It had been weeks in the mental hospital since I’d tried taking my own life and in those weeks I had formed close ties to two other girls in somewhat like circumstances - one stronger than the other. After yet another night on the roof of the building, under the watchful eye of one of the male nurses to ensure we didn’t pitch ourselves over the edge, the one with whom I was closer, Bells, and I returned back to her room and made a pact with each other. “Though there may come times when we are alone, we will never be singular.” She spoke as she tattooed my wrist with a simple design ‘III’. We had stolen a pen from the male nurse and Bells took a syringe needle from the ‘vampires’ that come around to check our blood levels once a week. “We won’t let the world own us. No matter what, there will always be us. We have each other.” As soon as mine was finished, I copied the design on the inside of her wrist, permanently branding us to each other, regardless of where the roads may lead us. ‘III’ was for the third wing of the hospital where they branded the ‘High Risk’ and ‘Criminally Insane’ lot of us.
Fast forward a month down the road to just days after my Bells is released from the hospital, by some fluke where she knew the judge that was reevaluating her case. I was however remaining and on a downward spiral in my lonesome once more. The nurses had pumped a factory’s worth of drugs in to my system in their attempt to control my erratic behaviors and mood swings.  I stumbled my barely lucid self into the hallway thanks to the distracted nurse underestimating my tolerance, I left my confinement room, I find a wheelchair and flopped in to it. Propping my head against the wall, as it is far too heavy to support on my own I hear the nurses at the nearby station speak in hushed tones of the former patient, ‘one of ‘The Three’, who had been released just days earlier that was found dangling from the stairway banister in her home this morning…
Though I had never seen Bells’ hang self, the image of such was one engrained in my mind as clearly as it would be had I witnessed it as it happened. Shaking my head to literally try and shake off the image burning holes in my corneas I pressed the butts of my hands in to my eye sockets I begin repeating the protesting “No” in a quiet, robotic chant, the pain of it all feeling so fresh and raw could eat me away if I allowed it.
Lost to my own world trying to escape the memories, I never heard the bathroom door open and close, or the entrance of someone coming in to the small room. When I managed to bring myself back in to the present and reach for my toiletries bag to retrieve a razor I was hoping had been provided for grooming purpose, I jumped feeling a large hand close around my wrist gently in a warning.
“Jesus Christ! What are you doing in here?” Grabbing the towel from the bar where it hung, I haphazardly wrapped it around myself as I remained under the spray of the water. Sure I have spent the past eighteen months showering with a cloven of other women in one mass room, but that was different.
“Sorry Leah, I was sent in by the doc to keep watch and monitor.” Quil’s voice was very businesslike and to the point, no sarcasm or attitude detectable in it.
“Fine, can you at least … turn away while I finish?” I know it is a long shot and more likely than not going to be denied, but it is worth a try.
“No can do.” Quil nodded his head in a motion that was very obviously a command to carry on and finish up then leaned back against the edge of the counter, allowing me the most amount of privacy he can. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to deal with me all the time, Leah. I’m only here today because it’s transfer day. You being my charge means I am responsible for ensuring you are in a good place.  You show me that you can handle your shit, and I’ll be gone after tonight.”
“I have been handling myself, Sarge.” The tone I laced in to his demanded address was evident even to a deaf man. With him standing in the room awaiting my departure from what was the sanctuary of my shower, I take my take standing in the water that has now turned frigid.
“You have, remarkably. All things considered,” I almost wanted to reach out and clear the surprise right out of his tone with a right hook to his trachea, but I kept to myself and silently shivered. “Listen, Jasper had to go file a few things quickly. Your release was earlier than Sue and the staff were fully prepared, otherwise it would be he that monitors your showers until it is determined you can do so independently, and safely.” Babysitters while I shower now, too? That was the icing on the metaphorical cake. There was a brief pause before Quil continued in a more stern, matter-of-fact voice, “Finish up. Group session begins in nineteen minutes.”
“Right, your eagerness to drop me here and ditch my ass from under your guard was too rushed and upset the flow of The Home’s schedule. Fine, whatever.” The agitation in my voice was more for my own good of trying to make myself feel better, than it was to snip at him, but it served both nicely.  “I’m coming out. You mind handing me a new, dry towel?”
“Sure thing,” Quil uttered as I saw him turn his back to gather a towel from the linen closet on the other side of the sink. Extending the stark white material with a professional and routine demeanor he held the towel open as a shield of sorts that I could step right in to.
Dropping the soaked towel at my feet to the shower floor I quickly stepped out and in to the new towel making quick work of taking it from Quil’s grasp and wrapping it around me.
“Thanks.” Stepping around the sort of roadblock his large frame creates in this cramped space, I maneuvered my way out of the bathroom and left him behind me as my damp feet pad across the light wooden floor of my bedroom. The idea of being able to wear my own clothes for the first time in too long increased the pace of my steps. As I come to a stop at the foot of my bed I drag my hand over the curved edge of my duffel bag someone had prepared for me. Who? I have no idea, but someone that knows me well enough to pack the exact items I would have chosen for myself. A soft smile ghosts over my lips as I slowly pull back the zipper of the bag and reach in to pull out a comfortable, loose-fit tank top.
“You’re not going to like this.” Was the only warning I am granted before Quil came up behind me, immediately taking hold of my right ankle.
“What the hell! What are you…?” I tried my best to kick my leg free from his hold, having no idea what he was trying to do and frankly, not caring what it was either. I’m standing here naked in nothing but a damp, nearly translucent towel and the water beads still clinging to my body from my shower, and Quil seems to think this is the more opportune time to touch me? Oh God. “Get off of me. GET OFF! Help! SOMEONE HELP!”
My cries for help were the final straw to Quil’s professional attitude. In his frustration at the fight I was trying to put up, he had trapped me between him and the wall using his hips to pin me from going anywhere, one of his legs firmly braced against the wall between mine preventing me from simply sliding down the wall to escape that way and his hands gripping my upper arms with enough force to mark my skin for days.
Balling my fists, no longer caring about keeping the towel between us and letting it pool on the ground, I use all my strength to beat against his chest, still trying to kick my way free but getting nowhere. In a lightning fast movement, Quil’s hands went from holding my arms to pressing one largely muscled forearm across my chest to pin me down while his other hand roughly clasped over my mouth to muffle my screams. “Calm the fuck down, Leah. Quit your damn screaming, woman!”
Another several attempts at muffled screams later I did the last thing my brain could think to do. Hesitating for a second, I convince myself it is my best chance at getting away from this psychotic man who no longer resembles my former best friend. I take a deep breath and bite down hard on the flesh of one of his fingers.
The yell that rumbled all the way up from deep in his chest was the only response, besides the feeling that his arm against my chest might be tighter now. A fraction of a minute later, I blinked, shocked to be completely free from Quil’s entrapment and see him pulled back by Jasper and another man I have only seen on the porch with the ghost woman upon my arrival.
Frantically trying to grab up my towel from the floor at my feet and flee I am caught off guard when two strong arms wrap me up, for the third time today, and hold me in a restraint that utilizes my own arms to bear hug myself as the man leans back far enough to take my feet off balance. Why the hell was I the one being restrained when he was the one that attacked me? Sue stands before me with her hands up, cooing at me to calm down in a very motherly way. The only flaw in her armor giving way to her discomfort being her sideways glance and nod at one of the men I don’t know. “GET HIM OUT OF HERE! I CAN’T … NOT HIM!” Screaming for Quil’s removal, my legs kick and flail in what can only be described as an uncoordinated running man type of motion. Suddenly one of the arms around me is gone and I am able to break free just before there is a sharp pinch in the back of my shoulder, right where my shoulder and neck meet.
In the amount of time it takes for the pain of the pinch to subside to just a memory, my entire body feels weighted down with heavy lead and time begins to stand still, my eyes focusing just past Sue’s slowly relaxing face to find the horrified look on the ghost woman’s face where she stands unmoving in the doorway of my room. Blinking slowly and with some effort, my force my eyes to refocus on the face each time they start to blur out on their own accord. Taking one clumsy, yet free, step forward I feel my world shift with only one constant, the ghost face.
“It is Bells…” my words slip out nearly incoherent as the lightly colored wood grain of the floor quickly closes in on my face and disappear in to the cold blackness.

Slowly, the muttering and ramblings in my head start to take shape and form in the voices I recognize to be Jasper, Sue, and Quil. There’s not a single part of me, except my ears, that is willing to cooperate with my idea of moving: My muscles? No, too heavy and tired to even twitch to life. My eyelids? Fuck that. Weighted down with concrete blocks; But my ears? Those tune in as best they can to the bickering happening somewhere in the near vicinity.
“I thought you said she was stable for transfer, Sergeant Ateara.”
“If I may, Sue, from the conversations I have been able to have with her this afternoon and evening, she is stable with the exception of when faced with her parole officer.”
“What exactly are you implying, Doc? That I’m the reason for her behaviors?”
“Gentlemen, arguing is very unbecoming of two professionals, especially if I have specifically chosen them to be able to work with this house and its residence. Let us put aside differences in order to help this girl. Now, I have a group session I need to go dismiss for the evening so that I can available here. I seriously doubt she is going to want either of you near her when she comes to. No killing each other in my absence, I do not want that kind of paperwork on my plate as well.”
“Of course, Sue. As for you Sergeant, I am not implying anything; however, what you have inferred from the words I have spoken leads me to believe you may be dealing with a guilty conscience for exactly that reason.”
“Bull Shit, Whitlock. I am doing my job, textbook. Shall we talk about textbook work? Do you know what you’re doing?”
“I can assure you that I do, Sergeant. Why do you ask?”
“Then why the hell hasn’t she woken up yet? I’ve seen Ativan in effect in people before. Leah’s been out for too long …”
“She has only been asleep little more than one hour, Sir.”
“Eighty-three minutes.”
The voices continue going back and forth drifting rapidly back in to the haze of darkness that pulled me under earlier. Without any ability to fight against the drug’s gravitational pull, I am sucked deep in to the quiet of the black.
At least it’s quiet here.