Goner- Twentyonepilots
"I'm a goner. Somebody catch my breath."
--
"So... how is everything?" Dr. Ross asks.
We've been sitting in silence for a minute. I don't know why I'm here. I got Dawn back. There is no need for this pish-posh bullshit. But here I am, confining a facade that I want to get better. I am better as long as she's with me. I'm fully aware of how dangerous that's to say, but I don't care right now, especially since Dawn and I haven't really spoken since our harboring disagreement.
Well, technically, we did speak... through moans and growls thrown into the night, but we have been avoiding our argument. A few words here and there made to do something other than glare at each at a distance and fuck harshly. Fuck, she is infuriating. Nevertheless, she still picked me up on time to take me to this god-forsaken place. I should be saying all this allowed to Dr. Ross, but fuck him. He probably hasn't had a good lay in a decade.
I mean, he isn't all that bad. I respect him in some capacity. I simply don't care to try.
"Good," I answer in short. I should at least throw him a bone, "My girlfriend and I are back together." For now, I want to add, but I keep that to myself.
He writes something down in his notepad and clicks his pen repeatedly. "That's a good thing?"
"Of course," I sigh in annoyance. "I don't want to talk about it.
"Okay, what do you want to talk about today?"
"Nothing."
"That was a quicker response." He continues to write on his pad.
I slump my head forward. Is he really going to do this old trick?
"So we are back to square one, aren't we. You don't want to be here. Everything is meaningless, and I am a witch doctor trying to save an unsavable person."
"Pretty much. Why waste your time? Sounds like you got me all figured out, don't you?" I can't help but be brass. It's much more complicated than he thinks.
"Because I have 56 minutes left with you. Silence isn't something I'm good with, nor am I good at talking. But I'm a great listener-- adviser giver, and I'm good at cards."
"The last part I didn't need to know."
"I know, but again, any purpose for you to open your mouth is better than nothing at all."
I don't say anything after that, letting my neck ache from my slumping position.
"Are you good at playing cards?"
I shrug my shoulders. I know I shouldn't entertain him, but I'm bored. And he's right; sitting in silence is uncomfortable, primarily if it's with a stranger. Dr. Ross is practically that.
"Care to play." He pulls a deck out from his drawer like a true magician.
"No."
"Rummie, Go Fish, Speed?" he begins to list the many crude games of child's card games. He pulls out a deck of cards, taking them out of the worn box "Poker--"
"Go Fish would do," I raise my head.
He smirks as he begins to shuffle the deck, "Yes. I'm very good. I practice with nieces and nephews all the time. I don't want to beat you so easily, though."
I frown, shaking my head. I don't care for small talk. He deals my cards, and I'm left with a shit hand. Remember Dennings; this is to pass the time with this fuckwad.
"Got any fives," Dr. Ross asks.
"Go fish," I say. "Can't you get fired for this? Playing on the job or some shit."
"As long as they don't know. I think there are cameras in here, but I haven't found them."
I look over my shoulder, glancing at the grassy gray walls; somehow, they were closing in on me, engulfing me to the dark side of lens-- filled with Ledger whispering in my ear. "You're being watched. You're being watched." It takes a minute to remember the demon king on my shoulders, reminding me where I came from. A centimeter of death, birds, watching my actions outside the house, inside of cameras-- filled with watchful eyes of the Underground--
"Anxious?" he inquires, stopping my internal meltdown.
"No." I clear my voice, letting the lump dissolve to the back of my throat. "I just wasn't expecting to be watched."
I've been monitored for most of my teen years under Ledger. Memories aren't fawn ones. I wonder what he would say if I unloaded that tailspin of a life lived by yours truly.
"I'm kidding. There are no cameras in here," he chuckles, taking in my immediate standoffish behavior.
My arms relax, and I look back at my cards. Behind my glasses, I look back at Dr. Ross. He's trying to read me again. Maybe he can't help it.
"Anxiety?"
"Got 8's?" I scoff, letting that be his only answer.
"Go fish," he trails off before looking right back at me, "You know, when I was a kid, about your age, I should say, I watched The Truman Show, you know, the movie with Jim Carrey. It might be too old for your generation. Anyway, for a good week, I could have sworn I was being watched. Little old me was the main character somewhere. It's a disorder. Truman Fever derived by the film."
"Are you implying that I have Truman Fever?" My blood begins to boil, and I drop the cards. I don't care if he sees them. The game doesn't seem fun anymore.
"Nope."
"Then why mention it?"
"I thought it would pique your interest."
"Well, it doesn't."
"You don't think your life is exciting."
"That's not what I said. In fact, if anyone saw my life, they would probably be scarred for life."
"Who's they?"
"People. Society. Fuck. The only people that can stand me are Dawn and my cousin. But Dawn's not talking to me, and Alice--" Shit, I've said too much. Too fucking much.
"Dawn's your girlfriend, right? Don't you usually talk to girlfriends?"
"Fuck off," I cross my arms. Twenty minutes left with this asshole, and I'm going.
"Maybe I can help with that."
"Maybe not! Look, you are the reason why I almost killed myself a few weeks past. I confronted how I felt, and I almost..." I snap my fingers for effect. "I backed out at the last second. Doesn't make of a difference, now does it?" I bury my face in my hands. "And Dawn was right there next to me, holding me together. FUCK!"
"You feel like you owe her?"
"I don't want you to figure me out!"
"If all you care about is your girlfriend, and you want it to work out, you must put in the effort. I can only give you the blueprint."
I stay silent for a moment, letting my mind roam to unfamiliar places. Aren't I putting in the effort? Dawn's the one who is not wanting to compromise. I clear my throat, letting the lump from before subside.
"I do everything for her because I know it will make her happy. We are having a disagreement about my job. It's not the best job, but it will protect us in the long run."
"Where do you work at?"
"Doesn't matter," I quickly say.
"Financially, it will protect you?"
"Sure." I shrug. "She doesn't see it like that. Since I do everything for her, I just thought she would do something for me this one time. Follow my lead for a change."
"What did she say when you told her you aren't leaving the job. That she'll break up with you?"
"No," I frown, shaking my head at the memory of her eyes tearing up, a hand on the doorknob, begging her to run away from another bump in the road of Jake and Dawn. "Dawn said she knows she wouldn't leave me but that it would wreck her and possibly ruin us in the long run."
"Perhaps, but it also sounds slightly manipulative."
"She is not manipulative," I immediately snap.
"I'm not saying she is." he throws his hands up, cautioning me to relax, "I'm saying she sounds like it. Your girlfriend might not even know that she is."
I don't say anything after. There's not much else to say without me flipping his table over.
"Compromise, Mr. Dennings."
No shit. He can do better than that. "And what if we can't, huh? What if it's one way or another?"
"You must talk it out but not turn it into an argument. You two are legally adults now, right? Start acting like one. Life isn't black or white. It's the grayest, murkiest color you will come across."
I nod in agreement. This is the only way Dawn and I can work things out. It's simple, but she's making it complicated. This relationship isn't one-sided; we are co-captains and partners playing the same game. We should be on the same team.
"Now, since I gave you love-infused advice, I'm going to say things, and you will listen."
"All you've been doing is saying things."
"Sure, but this is a compromise. A silent one I made with you. You won't do what I tell you to do, but I'm obligated to say you and Dawn are not ready for a relationship. "Listen because this is real talk," he adds, already trying to tame my explosion.
"What?"
"You are severely depressed, Jake."
There he is again, stating the obvious.
"Fuck off."
"Anxiety-filled man. PTSD is a real thing."
I stand from my chair. "I'm not listening to this bullshit."
"You tried to kill yourself over a girl! Let that seek in Jake. You aren't well, and you're lying if you're telling yourself that."
"It was a few weeks ago," I weakly excuse. I know the stupidity between each syllable, but am I ready to face reality? No, not even a little.
"And what if it happens again, huh? Will you be able to overcome it? What if you and Dawn have another big fight where things end again, or worse?"
"Maybe you are right, Mr. Ross. Sadly I just don't care. See you in two weeks," I blurt, rising from my seat.
"I still have fifteen minutes with you. One call to your girlfriend, remember?"
"We're using threats now, are we?"
"Give me something worthwhile. You won't break up with Dawn, and she's well aware you two shouldn't be together. She was sane enough to bring you here, but I'm assuming she's going through her own struggles. The only reason why you should be seeing me is that you want to see me, not for her."
"Anything else that I already know?"
"Somethings shifted. I mean, really screwed with your brain. Sure, you were hopeless before, but you mentioned this Alice, a sister or something?"
I twitch at the word sister.
"Cousin."
"Family means a lot to you."
"No."
"Sit down, Jake."
"Why should I?" I need to stand my ground. I'm not going to act like any of this is helping me.
"The only reason you are with Dawn now is because of therapy. You walk out the door; I'll call her. Her number is on the emergency contact list. So sit down and act like you give a shit." His voice is much sterner. Though this was only my second meeting with him, it was shocking to see slight anger behind his eyes.
I hesitate, only to see if he was bluffing. I didn't want to take that chance. Me and Dawn are already on the rocks; I don't want to risk it.
"Tell me something interesting," he asks.
"No."
"You frowned when I mentioned a sister. Is Alice like one to you?"
"You can say that, but..." I trail off, unsure if he deserves to know my soap opera life.
"But what, Jake?"
"But I might have a sister." I chuckle for no particular reason except to fill the silence that follows after.
"How?" His voice fills with confusion. This is precisely why I didn't want to say anything. It's a bottle of poison to unleash.
"Mom fucked Uncle. My brother thought I was the bastard, but it turns out he's an asshole."
The doctor looks at me confused, scribbling at whatever note he was writing previously. "How— how does that happen?"
"My brother is an idiot and a shit one at that."Dr. Ross nods his head, goading me to continue, "There's not much to say, doc. My life is complicated, a maze of destruction, and I don't know how to fix it. I have some half-sibling somewhere in the world, and I didn't know about it. I haven't talked to my Uncle in weeks, and I don't plan on it anytime soon. My brother is a cancerous shithead, and all that keeps me sane is Dawn. How's for honesty?"
Dr. Ross hums, squinting his eyes and rubbing at his stubble. "This is very complicated."
"I've stumped you, haven't I? Huh, what Yoda advice will you grant me now?"
"Do you want to know your sibling?" He asks instead.
"Sure I do."
"No, what I mean is, do you want to build a relationship?"
"No-- I mean yes-- No." I stammer. "I don't want to fuck the kid up in the head as it is. I'd probably ruin their life."
"You don't know that, Jake. I think this kid deserves to know they have extended family. Do you know their whereabouts?"
"My grandma might, but I have never met her. I have no idea where she lives."
"Where do you think you can obtain this information?"
"Fuck if I know."
"Your Uncle? A mother never strays far away from their son."
"I don't plan on talking to that asshole."
"What's stopping you?"
"I'm angry-- what the fuck do you mean what's stopping me!"
"No, your sad, disappointed even."
"No--"
"Yes, Jake. He was the last man in your life you saw as a father; remember, your sadness always turns to--"
"Rage. Sure, sure, but I'm not depressed over Uncle Jeff. Fuck that."
"I didn't say you were depressed over him. All I said was you were sad."
"There's a difference?" I scoff.
"Yeah, there is. Jake, I don't think you will ever rest until you find this brother or sister. I can see it in your eyes. Unhinged and lost to everything around you. Sure, when I first met you, you were already there, but now there's not a glimmer of hope in your eyes. All I see is resistance. Now you just want to survive, and what better way to focus your rage of sadness than finding a missing part of your life. Talk to your Uncle, and get shit done. You won't rest until you do so, and you don't have to forgive him. You can do that on your own time if you choose to or not; that's up to you."
I shake my head adamantly. Not Jeff. Not now.
"You can shake your head all you want, but this is the real testament. Talk to Dawn, and compromise on the disagreement. Don't leave the room until it's settled. Then talk to your Uncle to find said sibling."
"You make it sound so easy."
"Tilt your head, and you'll see it the way I do. Life is only as hard as you make it out to be."
---
A/N: Sorry for being gonnnne... since you've been goneee, I can't breathe for the first time lmaooo. But it's my goal to finish this godforsaken book this summer. Classes ended, and I quit my shitty job. I'm finna be a summer school teacher this summer-- loads of hours, but off weekends so hooray. Also I'm getting 4th of July off the first time in years so I'm going to get wasteddd. Anyway... I will try to get an update ASAP. Love you guys, and thank you for being patient.