Step Brothers

Road Trip - Chapter Eighteen

[Vote/comment or I kill every character and bring back Ryan]

[Derek's Point Of View]

"I think about killing myself too often," I replied, feeling nervous about what the doctor was asking me. I had already explained to her that I never shared these thoughts with anyone. Not my--Leo, not my father, not my best friend -- no one. "And there's not even a valid excuse most of the time. I just think about it. Death is a magnet I can't pull away from. It's constantly tempting me, forcing me to wonder what if."

"What type of scenarios do you put yourself in?" she asked.

"Like ways of dying?" She nodded. "For some sick reason imagining being found dead in a pool of blood excites me. And it's not something I want to do, I just want to cause pain. I want . . . I want my father to find me dead. I want him to scream and cry and beg God to bring me back." I looked down at my hands and studied the lines. My hands used to be extremely rough from all construction work I'd done, but in recent months I hadn't done much so they felt soft again. "I guess that says a lot about me, doesn't it?"

"I'm not here to judge you, Derek. I'm here to help you."

"But don't you ever wonder about the people you try to help? Like no matter how much help a person gets, some can never go back to being normal?"

"There is no normal, there's only the majority. That doesn't mean they are better than the rest of the world. Sometimes the most normal people are the ones who are the most troubled."

I averted my eyes when I saw hers land on me sympathetically. I didn't want to feel like a hopeless child who didn't know what he was talking about. I understood the different perceptions on what normal was and I also understood how some didn't believe it to be a factual concept. But my truth was that there were people who walked the earth on two legs, and then there were people who flew.

"Answer me honestly, Derek. What would happen if we released you right now?" she asked, fixing her glasses and preparing her pen.

"I'd still be the same. Nothing has changed for me."

"Would you still hurt yourself?"

I swallowed quietly as my thoughts went wild and my eyes began to burn. "I want to say no, but I don't want to lie."

"Would you use again?"

"If my thoughts got bad enough, yes."

I hated the feeling in my chest as I submitted to these questions. I wasn't comfortable in my own skin. It felt hot and wrong. I wanted to be invisible. I wanted to rip out of my skin and not feel like my existence was wrong.

My hands started shaking and the doctor noticed. She got up and walked around the desk and kneeled next to me. She gently laid her hand on my arm.

"It's okay, Derek. Session is over. You don't have to speak about this anymore."

I didn't look at her. If I looked at her I wouldn't be able to stop myself from saying that it was their fault that I felt worse. This place made me feel trapped. And when I felt trapped, so were my emotions and my feelings. I was trapped with all of my thoughts and there was nowhere I could run to.

Something didn't feel right. I was sweating and feeling increasingly nervous. The more I thought about being trapped, the worse it got. I stumbled out of the chair and headed for the door.