Jamie, meet Dylan. Dylan, meet Jamie

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I had permanent surveillance in my room.

        Mom stayed by my bedroom window as she read her magazines and made sure I wasn't doing anything stupid or harmful to myself. I couldn't even go on Stormex without her checking if it was appropriate for a "severly depressed individual," as she put it, to play the game. Plus I didn't want her to be around whenever LadyWillow was going to message me.

        Instead I just tried to nap on my stomach, but the blinding sun turned my eyelids a bright pink whenever I closed my eyes, and the ointment the "home-service doctor" rubbed my back with with smelled like shit even under the bulk of gauges wrapped around my upper body. I was extremely worried he'd say that these didn't seem like self-inflicted injuries but instead he shook his head and treated my back immediately.

        "Mom I really can't sleep with the sun in my eyes," I told her.

        "Dr. Kahn said you needed the sun. It's good for both the body and the soul," she said. I rolled my eyes; he was a lousy doctor.

        "Dad seemed pissed," I mentioned. Mom looked up from her magazine.

        "Of course he is. I am too. The only reason I'm here is because I can excuse myself from work," she said as she smelled a perfume from the magazine. "He said he was going to have a long chat with you as soon as he's back, I'll be joining him once he's back with Jake."

        "He's coming home early?" I asked. It was usually Mom who usually picked Jake up.

        "Yes, his work schedule today is completely and utterly messed up," she said as her eyes landed on mine. 

        I scoffed. "So it's my fault?"

        Mom huffed and placed the magazine next to her. "Is this what you want? Attention?" she said as her brows were stitching together.

        "No," I said with definite firmess in my voice. She kind of seemed convinced.

        The sound of the main door being unlocked made Mom get up from her seat. Dad was her; interrogation time. I took a deep breath and tried to sit up straight and leaned my back against the bedframe.

        Dad walked in my room with Jake next to him. Poor Jake. He looked like someone had slapped him as he focused on the bandage wrapping my upper body.

        "Hey," I said, trying to sound cheerful.

        "Why did you do it?" he spoke, and not even a smile crossed his lips.

        "I'm sorry," was all I can say. What else can I say to him. I wanted to go up to him and tackle him into a hug but I was impaired to do so. Poor Jake. Dad patted Jake on the back and told him to go to his room before shutting the door after Jake.

        Mom took her seat by the window while Dad grabbed the swivel chair by my desk.

        "This is obviously a big issue," Dad begin to say. Congressman Peter Forrester was back in action. "Your mom and I have decided to take you to councelling. You'll start on Saturday, the appointment is already booked." It's not me that needed checking out, you moron.        

        "We don't know why you're doing this. We've offered you everything we can; a good school, whatever you personally wanted, a nice car, and the list goes on. What else do you want from us?" Dad said; his voice was raised as he uttered the last sentence.

        "Nothing. It has nothing to do with you," I simply told him. Dad ran a hand through his hair as he stood up.

        "Damn it, Jamie, make me understand! Make some sense for crying out loud!" Dad said while Mom began to wipe her tears in the corner. This was just great.