A Different Path

Chapter 18 - Methods

"So how will this go?" I asked, sounding nervous.

"I'll just ask some questions to help you get stuff off your chest or even help you to understand why you feel some things. And, hopefully by sharing some of this, it'll help Jack to understand. It'll only really work if you're totally honest, okay?" He explained, and I nodded. "Let's start with this. Why do you freeze up when someone is loud or violent?" He began, starting off easy.

"Well..." I trailed off, looking at Jack. He smiled at me again, trying to let me know that it was okay to be honest. "'Cause when my Dad would yell, it'd be at me, and he'd beat me right after." I looked down again, my chest feeling tight. 

"So you're worried that the person yelling will hurt you, even if they ain't mad at you?" He asked, and I nodded, glancing at Jack. I then looked at Race, waiting for him to continue. He didn't, though, and was clearly waiting for me instead.

"I know I shouldn't be afraid, but I always panic." I said, starting to feel more comfortable. 

"Have you tried taking a step back from whatever is happening, allowing yourself to realize that you're okay?" He asked, and I shook my head. "Well next time it happens, see if it works for you. Now, I'm gonna ask a more intense question, alright?" He said, and I tensed up, but nodded. "How do these memories of you Dad make you feel?" 

"I..." I looked down in order to think, taking a moment to gather my thoughts. "They make me feel... Broken, I guess?" I felt Jack's eyes on me while I talked, feeling guilty that he was hearing this.

"Whattya mean?" Race pushed, looking at me with a kind expression.

"I just feel as though everything around me is falling apart. Sort of like any progress I may have made in any area of my life just got thrown away like it was nothing. I also just feel like I'm less of a person and more of a waste of space." I kept looking down, knowing I was about to go on for a while, thus making me not want to look at either of them. "Whenever I wake up from a nightmare or something, I feel like I'm in danger. I know I can't fight back, though, which is why I just shut down rather than doing anything about it." I finally looked back up at Race, seeing him listening closely. 

"How did your Dad make you feel?" I choked up as he spoke, looking to Jack.

"Are you sure you're okay with hearin' this, Jack?" I asked, and he nodded, smiling. "Okay..." I took yet another deep breath, looking down. "He'd make me feel like I was absolutely nothing. Like I wasn't worthy of living. Every single day he'd tell me how much he despised me, how much he wished I'd just kill myself, how badly he wanted to get rid of me," I grew quieter, not looking at either of them. "I wish I was kidding when I say that he spoke to the neighbor's dog kinder than he spoke to me." 

"When would he say that stuff?" Race asked, and my eyes began to burn from tears, but I refused to let them fall.

"If I had trouble walking, so every time I tried to walk, if I didn't do a chore to his liking, stuff like that. One time he got bad at me because I was breathing." I looked up at Race who seemed surprised by how awful my Dad was, but stayed quiet. "He'd lock me in my room for days and not let me eat, making sure to give me a beating before he'd go to bed each night. He would say horrible things to me until he ran out of insults to say, repeating them to me every day. He acted like I wasn't even a human, and when he'd have guests over downstairs, he'd tell them that I died soon after my Mom had left because he was too embarrassed to say that he had a crippled excuse for a kid upstairs. I wasn't his son. I was another object." I finally finished, staring straight down. My chest felt heavy as we sat in silence, the other two clearly taking everything I had said in. 

"Do you believe what he said?" Race eventually asked, making me look up at him. I looked at Jack for a moment before turning back to Race, nodding. "You wanna know somethin', Crutchie?" He then said, grabbing my attention. "He said all those things about you, but all the newsies in the house think the opposite. They all love you and think you're incredible. So would you rather listen to just one person, or dozens of others?" I hesitated for a moment, really thinking about what he had said.