✅ A Dose of Humiliation

81. Family Dinner

I couldn't say any more. It was too hard to think about all the things I'd done wrong, and what I needed to do to make it up to my parents. My whole life was a mess, and I knew that I was spiralling down no matter what I did. So many things that I needed to apologise for, and I didn't know how I could explain any of it to my kid brother.

"We're here to help you," he said. "We're still family, right? Mum's upset, but she knows it's not your fault. And if you can keep yourself safe, that's what she needs. If I can just tell her that you're okay, even if you can't face Dad..."

"Heh," I said. "Well, I guess I'm kind of okay. I'm staying in a grotty hotel on the docks now, and my boyfriend's there to make sure I'm not getting too crazy. I don't want to tell her that, though. She'd just worry more. But... I don't want to crash and burn. I want to go to university, and I need a debating certificate for that. And I can't do that without their help. I need to... It's like the craziest thing I ever imagined. You know? Did they tell you what I was thinking about?"

"Don't think so. But if you've got a plan, Mum will try to help. You know that, she'll do anything for you. And I will too, but I don't think they take me seriously. Nobody will, I mean. Is it just getting papers signed? Cause I mean, I can probably get Mum to do stuff like that. You don't need Dad to do it too, do you?"

"I'm hoping I can get another shot with the Punishment Pill," I blurted out, feeling like I had to fight against every impulse to say the words. "If you get two different doses, they kind of cancel out for a few hours, maybe even a couple of days. Long enough for me to do the assessment that I need for my university application. It'd mean I'm dealing with even more embarrassment, but... Well, the problem is, I can only do it if Mum or Dad will lie to another pharmacist, say I've done something that justifies getting a shot in the first place."

"Wow. Talk about taking it in hard mode. You sure you're okay with that? I mean, just the first one was hard enough. It's like you fell apart or something."

"I know. And I don't know if I could take it. But for some reason my friends are sticking with me, and they'll lock me in a room if they have to, until I can get over it and get back to normal. I need to get through this. I mean, some of the stuff this thing has done to me will be permanent, but I hope enough of it will go away after the antidote. I just need to make sure that there's still a future waiting for me afterwards, I can take a couple of weeks humiliated. Right?"

"You're tougher than I am," he said with a shrug, and took another slice of the pizza. There was only one left now, and I'd lost count of how many each of us had taken. "I hope you're okay. Whatever it takes. And I'll talk to Mum and Dad for you. Maybe Dad will be reasonable. Right? If he won't, Mum's ready to kick him out. She's told him already, after you left, this is all his fault. And he knows he's on thin ice. So either he'll try to do the right thing, or it's just down to Mum. Either way it works, right?"

"I don't want to get you in the middle of this, Walt. Thanks for checking on me."

"Yeah. Well, I thought you might need some help. And I knew you don't want to talk to them yourself. So..." He reached into his bag and pulled out a box. A fancy one, with packaging that opens out like a flower to present the contents to you on a pedestal. I read the words on the outside; 'Apache Wizard 33'. A new phone. Sure, it was one of the cheaper ones that people in some crime drama would use for a burner, but it meant I would have a way to stay in touch with people without being inundated with messages from during my meltdown.

"If you want I'll take yours," he said. "Look after it until you're like, I don't know, more stable in the head or something. Right?"

"Good idea," I laughed. He couldn't really understand what was going through my head at the moment, but he was right. I needed not to be worrying about all those messages; and I had to be sure that I wouldn't be tempted to read them when I was already down. It was easy to imagine that would break me completely. So I took my phone out from my pocket, and passed it over to him. Then I turned on the new one, registered my thumbprint and retina so I could unlock it easily, and tapped a couple of times to get it to show the number.

"I got it," he said. "I'll let you know what Mum says. We can do this, right? You can get through all these tests, and then you'll be able to go to university. Nobody's going to stop you."

"I hope," I said, and gave a little sigh. I wish I could feel as confident as I sounded. There was still a part of me that wanted to run away from all the responsibility. I could go to a place where nobody knew me; I didn't want friends to be getting in trouble for what I'd done, or family always telling me who they wanted me to be. And if I couldn't get into university, there was always prostitution. I could run away from everything, and nobody would need to care about me anymore. But every time those thoughts came back, I knew that I wouldn't be able to get away so easily. Because there were people I still cared about, and I wouldn't have the strength to completely cut contact. My life was hell, sure, but there were a few bright points. Like Clint, I guessed. I had to get through this, because he wouldn't let me tear up everything I'd believed in, and I couldn't let go of him.

"You can do it," Walt reassured me again. "We're here for you, you know? Even if Dad's being a bit mental over it. He cares about you, he wants to help, he just won't admit that he doesn't know how. Can't take that his way won't actually work."

"I'll try to calm down, I just..." I sighed. "You shouldn't have to deal with this either. You're just a kid, you should have it easy. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise. You never chose any of this. And you're still a great big sister. I don't listen to the rumours, because they don't know you. I just want you to get better. Can you try that for me?"

I sighed again, and finished off the pizza. We tried to make a little small talk after all the serious stuff, but we had almost nothing in common. It wasn't long before he walked away, back home. And I was off too, to the poky little hotel room that was starting to feel like home for me. I stopped at the bank on the way there as well, to see how much money was in my account. Or, more accurately, how quickly my overdraft was building up. Everytime I treated myself, even just something nice for lunch at school, or a pizza to share with my brother, the balance was dropping. I didn't get an allowance anymore, and there was nothing to replenish the funds I had spent. I wouldn't be able to live like this for long, even given the best possible outcomes, and I had to hope that I wouldn't have to.

Hope was hard to come by now, but it was all I had left. More than family who hated me for my independence, more than friends who couldn't understand what I was turning into. Hope was the constant that could keep me going, and I had to cling onto it until I had the courage to let go and fall into the trash heap with all the people who couldn't hack the modern world.

That hope was still there, for now.