Best Friends (Jimmy/Jacoby)

The very beginning of Jimmy/Jacoby. Before they were together, they were best friends; will their friendship survive Jimmy's first trip through rehab?

1

Christmas Day 1998 dawned snowy in Omaha, Nebraska. I hate snow. I hate being in rehab. And I hate being socialized. I looked out the window to my small room in disgust, wishing my friend Jacoby was here. He’d saved my life and we’d become best friends. He was the only person in Omaha I knew aside from Dr. Mathias and the people here at rehab.

“Jimmy, come on,” a voice said, knocking on my room door. I was recently awarded the privilege of having it closed during my free time, and I was taking full advantage. “Everyone’s in the common room.”

Joy; the common room. I hate the common room, too. I’m known as Mr. Silent around here. I’ll talk to Jacoby and I’ll talk to Dr. Mathias. Other than those two people, I refuse to speak to anyone else. Of course, that meant that my door opened and our pod supervisor, Jackson Vrende, stepped into my room. I growled at him, because staff weren’t allowed in our rooms without permission unless they had medication.

“Come, Jim, it’s Christmas morning. Everyone is waiting for you so they can open their gifts.”

I grabbed a pad of paper, which is how I communicated to the staff here, and scrawled an angry response.

Why should I have to go? I don’t have any family, I won’t have any gifts. I got a gift from Jacoby already and a gift from my doctor already. Fuck off and leave me the fuck alone.

Jackson shook his head, pocketing my note as he always did. His khaki’s and dark green polo shirt looked ridiculous on his pale body. “You can’t opt out of everything, Jimmy. Your treatment plan says you have to participate in house activities as long as they are age appropriate. Christmas Day doesn’t have an age limit so get in there and participate.”

I growled at him again, fully aware that he’d get me in there at all costs. He also knew, of course, that I wouldn’t go willingly; I never did. I was seventeen years old, recovering from drug and alcohol addiction, and a coma, and I didn’t want to do anything.

“Look, either you walk with me, which you are more than capable of, or I get the guards in here and they carry you.”

Of course, the first part of my recovery had been recovering from the coma I’d laid in for over a month. I’d bounced back fairly quickly (I was told that what took me three months took most a year), which was attributed to my age. I could walk now and I could talk when I chose. But today I didn’t want to do anything.

“You’ve got one minute left before I call the guards.”

I continued to sit defiantly on my bed, scribbling away in a notebook separate from my communication book. This one contained poems, lyrics, and drawings and was my release from the stress of recovery. I paid no mind to Jackson as I continued to sketch the beach as it appeared in my memory. My memories are very fractured and most memories of my past are gone. Anything I remember has to be recorded so it can be investigated; my best friend wants to find my family. I’d just finished when I was lifted from the bed, pad and pencil still clutched in my hands.

“Take him to the common room.”

I was struggling now, but the guards were stronger than me. I’d lost a lot of weight during my years of addiction, of course, and I didn’t gain it all back in the time I’d been here, either. Despite my struggles I was firmly planted in a blue arm chair and immediately curled into a ball to hide. I don’t like being around other people and I especially don’t like being around the others in my pod; they’re all older than me and make me uncomfortable.

“Okay, Andrew, why don’t you pass out the gifts?” Jackson requested, as I tightened myself into the chair. I had my sketch book and pencil and doodled while life went on around me. “Jimmy, please turn around and participate.”

I flipped him off and continued doodling, curled into a ball in my chair. It sucks sitting here on Christmas Day, knowing I don’t have any family. All these gifts were from the other guy’s families and I don’t even have a sponsor family yet. So, why should I participate in something revolving around family I haven’t got?

“Jimmy, come on, this won’t go towards your points in your treatment program. You have to participate to get the points.”

I flipped Jackson off again, because even if I did turn around, I still wouldn’t get points; I literally can’t participate.

“Fine, then.”

I stayed in the chair, biting my lip, because while I might look tough, it actually kind of hurts to be left out. I mean, I don’t give a shit what people think about me, but to know the others in my pod are getting gifts and I’m not, it sucks.

“Another sweater?”

“Candy!”

I continued to doodle while everyone gushed over what they got, whether they liked it or not. I’d gotten books from both Jacoby and the doctor and that was fine with me. But it’d be nice to have family that cared about me, even though I know I’ll never have that.

“All right, guys, free time for the rest of the day,” Jackson said, and I was glad to be put out of my misery. “Except Jimmy. For refusing to participate, you’re on kitchen duty tonight; might want to get that place clean before the cooks come in to make supper.”

I gaped at Jackson as the others left, some laughing at me because I got in trouble. I ran to my room and grabbed my communication book, tossing my sketch book on the bed. The bed’s industrial surface, with a salmon pink comforter, didn’t look remotely inviting right now, I was so furious.

Why am I getting punished? I couldn’t participate and you knew that! I scrawled angrily and shoved the note at Jackson, wondering if now would be a good time to just start yelling at the guy.

“You’re being punished, Jimmy, because you didn’t participate. Even if you didn’t have any gifts, you were still required to socialize. Instead, you sat in your chair and drew, ignoring everyone around you. That doesn’t count in your treatment plan, so you’re receiving a punishment. We eat at six, so have the kitchen clean by then.”

I don’t know what came over me, but I threw my notepad to the floor and rushed Jackson, knocking him to the floor. I began punching him, biting him, kicking him, anything I could to hurt him. He attempted to defend himself, but when I’m mad, I’m strong, no matter what.

“Take him to solitary!” a voice shouted, as hands grabbed at me; yeah, this was a great Christmas. “Get him out of here.”

I continued to fight Jackson until I was lifted into the air and hauled off to a padded room. They took my notebook and pencil and threw me inside, where I bounced on the soft floor. I laid there, the fight gone out of me, and I cried.

***

“Jimmy, you always talk to me. Don’t go silent on me,” my best friend, Jacoby Shaddix pleaded with me. I was still in the padded room and I’d lost track of how many days had passed. “Come on, bud, talk to me. What happened on Christmas?”

I continued to face the wall, examining the surface. The walls were padded, as I said. Each wall had a button holding the padding to the wall and the padding was white. I could see the little bits of stitching, also white, that ran between the squares. My fingers prodded the soft, cotton surface, feeling the cotton batting beneath the stitches. It was designed so that I could hit it, kick at it, whatever moved me, and not get hurt. Of course, some had still managed to hurt themselves in here, but not me. I just sat here, knees drawn to my chest, staring at the wall, examining the gouges from previous occupants. There were no windows, no people except the guards that let me out to use the restroom every two hours and brought me three meal trays per day.

“Jimmy, what happened? Jackson was hurt pretty bad, Dr. Mathias said. You broke a couple of his ribs, stabbed him with a pencil, he had a black eye and several cuts and bruises. The guards said you went berserk; what happened?”

But I remained silent. I didn’t want to talk about it and I knew Dr. Mathias had pulled strings to get this visit. I heard Jacoby sigh and listened to the rustle of his jeans as he stood.

“Jimmy, if you don’t talk to me, this will be my last visit. Your treatment plan is being revised and if you continue to refuse to speak, you lose all your visitation privileges. I don’t want that to happen and I know you don’t, either. I know that our friendship is tenuous at best, but I feel like we’ve made progress. So, please, talk to me in the next five minutes. Otherwise, I have to leave and I won’t be allowed to come back for a very long time.”

I turned to face Jacoby, seeing the fear in his blue eyes. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt, some dark pants and black boots. I knew they were his work boots, and that he’d come here from work, probably because he got off early. He was an EMT and he’d saved my life that night in May. Instead of speaking, I stood, moving toward him slowly and embraced him, crying.

“Jimmy, it’s going to work out, I promise. You just have to put some effort into things, okay? You have to talk to these people; you have to quit attacking them. They aren’t going to let me keep visiting if you don’t try harder. I’m not family, Jimmy, but since I’m all you’ve got, they’re bending the rules for you. But they won’t do that any longer if you don’t open up.”

I just held him, feeling his arms around me. He was a truly great friend and I knew I needed to open up to him. But I didn’t have the words and I didn’t think my voice would work. He’d been here the day before as well, urging me to talk, but now it might all end for good. I’d be lost without my only friend, but what could I say?

“Jimmy, the guards are going to be here in about two minutes. Please, what happened?”

I could see the guards outside my door and I knew I had to do something, if only so that Jacoby could come back tomorrow. As the door to my cell opened, I leaned up and whispered into his ear.

“They made a fool of me.”

He nodded, giving me one more tight hug. The guard told him it was time to go and I watched him leave with a frown on my chapped face. The padded door, with that same damn quilted pattern, slammed in my face and I watched out the small, square window as Jacoby walked away with a guard. I’d done what I was supposed to do; I talked and he’d get another visit.

***

But Jacoby did not come back the next day or the day after that. The guards kept their schedule of letting me out every two hours, but I was not released. Because I refused to be verbal, I had no means of communication. I knew that, despite saying something to Jacoby he would not be back. And, as my scheduled bathroom breaks continued, I knew I was right. I didn’t see my doctor, my counselors, even Jackson; just the guards and the bathroom and my padded cell.

“Jimmy.”

I recognized Jackson’s voice but ignored him. I was facing him, and I could see that he was still healing from my attack. My pulse quickened, my fists curled and uncurled; he’d be well advised to leave the room right now. I stood, gritting my teeth and a guard appeared at his side. His right eye was swollen shut and he had stitches on his face; I’d done a good job.

“No more visitors, Jimmy. Not until you follow your plan. I changed it so that no one sees you until you socialize. I can do that, because I’m your supervisor and I see you every day. You’re outburst just got you into trouble and it won’t get you transferred. Follow the rules, Jimmy, and you can get out of this cell.”

I flipped him off, refusing to speak to him. I wanted my doctor, whom I had a right to see. He had no right denying me Dr. Mathias. I moved forward faster than the guard could respond and grabbed Jackson by the throat, anger fueling my resolve. I pinned him to the floor, my face inches from his.

“You, you humiliated me,” I seethed, in a tight whisper. “You made a fool of me. You don’t give a shit about me. You want me to follow my treatment plan? Let me take the lead. I get what I want, Jackson. I want my doctor and my best friend and I want them right fucking now.”

His face was purple, but I didn’t care. The guards were trying to pry me off him and just before I thought he might suffocate to death, I was pulled back, as he gasped for air, a hand on his bruised throat. I wasn’t going to take being locked up any longer. While the guards were distracted, I left the padded cell, trying to find a phone. I knew I’d get caught and put back in solitary, but all it had done was make me go crazy. The pod was decorated for New Years and I glimpsed a calendar: it was almost 1999.

“Get him into solitary and call Ki Mathias,” a voice croaked and guards grabbed me. I lashed out at Jackson as I was dragged past, managing to clip his knee, grinning as he fell. “Don’t let him out of your sight.”

I was trembling now, the cravings for the drugs I was denied kicking into overdrive. The guards knew the signs, knew what they needed to do. My meal tray arrived a few minutes later with a cheese stick on it.

2

If you’re surprised that things did not get better, then shame on you. After my second attack on Jackson, I was not only confined to solitary but had to wear hand cuffs and ankle restraints to use the rest room or have anyone in my cell. They let Jacoby “visit” me, if you can call looking at each other through the small window in the door a visit. Dr. Mathias was the only one allowed to see me and he told them to leave me unchained.

“Jimmy, we’re moving you to another pod,” the doctor told me one day. I had no concept of time, just that I craved cocaine, I needed a cigarette, and I wanted to see my best friend. “The relationship between you and Jackson is too volatile and nothing will ever change if you stay here. So, tomorrow, you’ll move to pod one, where you’ll have a female supervisor, and hopefully, we can get things back on track. Jacoby and I both requested this move, hoping that it will bring you out of your shell.”

My eyes widened and I looked at my doctor from my spot on the floor. I felt my hands begin to tremble and I began to sweat. The doctor was making notes, probably noting my reaction to this news. I wanted to move, but I didn’t think I could handle a female supervisor. My fractured memory said women were bad and that I didn’t like them.

“Jimmy?”

I licked my dry, chapped lips and began to wring my hands, a nervous habit of mine. “I-I want to move. I-I do.”

The doctor nodded, his thick dark hair unmoving, his brown eyes kind. “Then what’s with the nervous reaction?”

How could I explain? “I-I remember that women are bad and I don’t like them.”

The doctor smiled nodding. “You’re gay? No problem, Jimmy. Sophia is as nice as can be, I promise, and she won’t judge you.”

“No, I’m not gay. At least, I don’t think I am. I mean, women are bad and I don’t like them. I think a woman might have abused me once.”

That seemed to register with the doctor who chewed on his pencil for a moment. “Well, there is a lot we don’t know about your past, Jimmy. What say we’ll do this on a trial basis? One week and if things aren’t any better, we’ll go to pod two.”

I nodded, because anything that got me away from Jackson was a good thing. Perhaps not all women were bad and I’d learn to like Sophia. I liked the women who cared for me in the hospital and the one time I met some friends of Jacoby’s, I liked them, and they were women.

“You’ll move tomorrow, okay? Jacoby is packing your room right now, since he’ll know better than anyone if anything is missing. Since you have a single room, it’s been locked, but I don’t trust Jackson. As it is, he’s probably getting fired this week.”

I smiled, unable to contain my excitement at the good news. I hated him and the sooner he quit working here, the better.

“I won’t have to see him tomorrow, will I?” I asked, and the doctor shook his head. “Good. He’s been avoiding me.”

“Only because I advised him to do so. He’s a danger to your recovery, Jimmy; we’re only a couple of months into your recovery, but you’ve made little progress. This concerns me, because after 90 days, you’re released back into society. As of now, you don’t have anywhere to stay, and I know that you’ll just fall back into old habits. If we can get your recovered enough, I can get you into a halfway house; but if not, it’s a no-go.”

“I want to go with Jacoby,” I blurted out and the doctor glanced at me. His eyes were questioning and wondered if he knew something about me I didn’t. “I mean, he’s my best friend so why can’t I go with him?”

The doctor shrugged, consulting his notes as he stood. “You’ll still have to go to the halfway house for a little while, just to get used to being out of the structured environment you’ve got here. I have to go now, but remember, tomorrow you move to another pod.”

***

The move went fine, but I had a hard time settling in. Sophia and I were getting along pretty well, but the people in this pod didn’t seem as friendly as in my other pod. The doctor was pleased, though, and so after a week, it was decided that I would stay here. I didn’t think it was wise, but my treatment had to progress or I’d be out on the street.

“Jimmy, time to eat,” Sophia said, standing in the doorway to my room. To help ease my transition, Jacoby hadn’t seen me all week and I was starting to miss him. He’s the only friend I’ve got and it sucks when they take his visits away. “Jacoby gets to visit tomorrow, I promise.”

I sighed, shaking my head. “I know I’m supposed to socialize, but I’m not hungry. I’ll come to movie night later.”

“No, come on, Jim. You don’t have your required hours in this week. Remember, if you don’t socialize ten hours per week, you lose visits with Jacoby.”

I counted to ten, tired of having my visits threatened. I didn’t want to socialize and I wasn’t going to. If I’m not hungry I won’t eat anyway so there’s no point in me going. I shook my head as Sophia continued to stand in my doorway, that damn kind look on her face.

“Please stop threatening to take Jacoby from me,” I said, as nicely as possible. She was testing my patience, but I was going to do my best to remain calm. “I’m not hungry and I don’t feel like coming to supper. I will come to movie night, which puts me two hours closer to my ten for the week. If I do two hours of TV time tomorrow night, I will reach ten hours.”

She shook her head, continuing to stand in my doorway. She was nice enough, stocky, with thick, long red hair, and green eyes. She never struck me or talked down to me, but I was still on edge.

“That’s true but the doctor said you have to start coming to community meals. Your socializing time is about to get increased to fifteen hours per week, so you might want to start now.”

I worked hard to control my angry breathing, my fists clenching and unclenching. I knew she’d only have to holler and she’d have two guards at my room in a heartbeat. I stood up and watched her; she looked happy, like she’d won the battle.

“I’m not hungry. I will wait until my hours get increased before I worry about them. Please do not make me go eat.”

I was starting to sound robotic, a sign I was getting angry. Sophia seemed to sense this and made a quick hand gesture; muscle showed up just in case. I shook my head, pacing my room; I wasn’t going to go eat and that was final.

“Look, you’re a lot better than Jackson, but I’m not hungry. It’s in my plan: if I’m not hungry, I don’t have to go eat. Please follow my plan.”

“New pod, new plan, Jimmy, and that part changed. I take it pretty seriously to get a kid like you and I’m going to make sure you meet all your goals. Your new goal is attending every meal whether you eat or not. Now, you have until the count of three to come eat or I’ll cancel Jacoby’s visit for tomorrow.”

They know this is a sore spot for me and really, Sophia shouldn’t have been surprised that I was faster than both her and the guard. Both were unconscious within a minute and I was on the run. I’d figured out where other exits were that weren’t alarmed and I ran as fast as I could. I knew where Jacoby lived and I could make it if I ran fast enough.

“Fuck,” I muttered as I was tackled to the ground. “Just let me go.”

“No visits from Jacoby for a week,” a familiar voice said, and I was confused…wasn’t she unconscious?

I struggled against the guards as they took me to my room, where I would no doubt be locked up for an entire week. Then, I recognized the solitary room and I sighed. If they’d just let me go back to the streets, this wouldn’t be a problem. But instead, the solitary room door clicked shut and I sank to the bland, white, gouged floor, defeated.

***

Dr. Mathias sat on my bed two days later, shaking his head. My time in solitary was short, thankfully, but I still refused to go to community meals. Before our meeting (I don’t attend any group classes yet), I heard him speaking to Sophia about my treatment plan and I knew things were going to change.

“Jimmy, I don’t know what else to do for you,” he told me, disappointedly. “I’ve moved you to a different pod, tried to be patient, but you aren’t making any progress. You’re off the drugs, you’ve quit smoking and drinking, but that’s it. Most people, by now, are into level two and working toward graduation. You just jump from pod to pod unable to socialize and get along with the people that are caring for you. At this point, two and a half months into treatment, I don’t know what else to do.”

I didn’t know what to do, either, but what we were doing now wasn’t working, that’s for sure. Maybe I just needed a different facility. I said as much and the doctor nodded, looking thoughtful.

“There aren’t really any juvenile facilities around here, Jimmy. And under the circumstances, I’m unwilling to move you too far from Jacoby. I suppose now we have to go with the programs that are unorthodox and set a precedent, however dangerous that might be. I’m going to give you one week to shape up, Jimmy. You stop fighting, you stop resisting your treatment plan and you get better. You should be almost through the program right now, not fighting cravings and unable to function in society. So, I’ve spoken to the higher-ups here, I've spoken to Jacoby, I’ve spoken to Sophia and Sarah. They all think I’m crazy, except Jacoby, but I’ve got permission: for one week, you’re going to stay with Jacoby. There will be someone from here there to supervise, but they are to be in the background. They will be there 24 hours a day, in eight hour shifts. Jacoby has been given a list of objectives for you to meet: you must socialize in some manner two hours per day for each of the seven days. Also, you must speak to me and Jacoby in an open manner, no fighting, about the goals you want to reach. If you want to go to college, Jimmy, you have to put some effort into your program, got me?”

I nodded, excited to be getting out of here, if only for a week. “What happens when my week is up?”

“You return here. We get you into phase two, begin your EMT studies, and you progress through each of the levels until you reach the halfway house. I’ve arranged for someone from the college to tutor you until you’re in phase three and allowed to attend classes on campus. If you screw this up, I lose my job and I rather like my job, despite the stress. Do we have a deal?”

I thought about that, knowing how volatile I was. However, I wanted to make this work and spending two and a half months in phase one sucked, so I shook his hand.

“Don’t mess this up, Jimmy.”

I nodded, as he left and Jacoby came in, grinning from ear to ear. “Ready?” he asked, and I nodded, noting that he had a bag packed for me. “Come on, let’s get you checked out.”

I grinned, my first real smile in a very long time, as Jacoby lead me to the front. I was given a pass and a red bracelet, which meant I was in the program but using an extended overnight visit. I hoped this would be what I needed, and perhaps a different pod. I knew I was half of the problem, but I don’t know how to control my anger, I really don’t, and maybe Jacoby and I can work on that this week.

“Good luck, Jimmy,” Marg, one of the student nurses said, and I nodded, smiling at her. “See you back here in a week.”

Nodding, I followed Jacoby to his truck and got in, eager to be free. I noticed that a staff member was sitting in another car, looking annoyed. Too bad, I thought, as Jacoby backed out of the parking lot. This might be unorthodox and Dr. Mathias might be crazy, but so be it; I wanted this to work because I want to save lives just like Jacoby. Relaxing for once, I watched Omaha go by, wondering what my week would bring. Jacoby was a fun guy, so I hope he has some fun social things lined up. Maybe, I thought, we could visit the library.

Oh boy, more J&J for me!!!!

Woohoo, so, Jim on his first stint in rehab, I'm so excited to see how this plays out between them

I'm hoping this will open the door later for writing how they met, etc. Right now, adventure six is going well, so I don't want to write their beginning *just* yet, but hopefully later.

The last chapter will be posted today =). I decided to keep it short for this contest, since I didn't have time to churn out my usual chapter amount =)

3

By the second day, it was easy to ignore whomever the center sent to watch me. Jacoby did indeed have fun things planned for me and it was easy to get my hours in for socializing. We went to the library every day that it was open and I spoke to the librarians to get time there. Jacoby and I would sit up late at night and talk about books, TV, being a medic, you name it. He helped me study for my GED which, despite the problems I've had, I’m on track to complete in the spring. I’ll be able to start my EMT studies in the fall of 1999, which is exciting for me.

Needless to say, it was hard to leave at the end of my week. But I’d made a promise to Jacoby that I’d start cooperating and get through my program on time. Of course, I’ve got some catching up to do, but he’s agreed to help me when he can. Much to my dismay, I returned to the center, reminding myself that I agreed not to fight the staff. Jacoby said that, since I did so well with him, he’s going to see if outpatient therapy is possible for me.

“Jimmy, time to eat,” Sophia said and I groaned; I’m not hungry. “Remember—“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” I grumbled, putting my sketching away for now. I did eat sometimes at Jacoby’s but he never forced food on me if I wasn’t hungry. “But I’m not hungry.”

She shrugged as we walked to the dining area. It was my second night back and tomorrow I was supposed to move into phase two. Apparently, that’s when I start attending group therapy in addition to individual therapy. I wasn’t exactly excited about it, but if it gets me out of here, I’ll do it.

“Look, the kid comes out of his shell,” one of our more…forward, shall we say, podmates, Monde, said, causing a few people to laugh. He was a scraggly guy, shorter than me, but full of piss and vinegar. “Have fun with your boyfriend?”

I ignored him and took a seat at a table removed from most of the guys here. Most here were easily in their 30s and 40s and I stuck out like a fucking sore thumb, being 17. I curled into my chair and sipped at the water glass at my plate. Perhaps now Sophia will understand why I hate meal time.

“Guys, that’s enough,” she warned them. I have no idea if they listen to her or not, though they must or she’d be out of a job. Trust me when I say she’s stocky…I bet she’s scary when she’s really pissed. “Let’s worry about eating, shall we?”

I was glad that she intervened, even though I can easily hold my own in a fight. Even though I’m a twig now, I’m still pretty tough and one wrong look from these guys was going to get them a black eye.

“I want to know how his week with his boyfriend went,” Monde sneered, as he glared at me. I flipped him off and picked at my nails. “Sorry, little boy, I don’t swing that way. Don’t particularly like it up the ass.”

“I’m not gay!” I shouted, though I was starting to doubt myself. I certainly hadn’t done anything with Jacoby and I definitely didn’t have feelings for him. “So fuck off, Monde. God I can’t wait to get out of here tomorrow.”

“Oohh…kid’s got a date, huh?” Monde mocked me, and I stood up, trying to keep my promise to Jacoby. Monde stood up, too, even though he was considerably smaller than me. “What? Gonna fight me, you little fag?”

“I am not gay. Jacoby is simply my only friend I have in this fucking town and he’s assisting with my recovery. Why don’t you worry about your recovery and get out of my personal business.”

Monde, of course, wouldn’t have that and he approached me. I was ready for a fight, and I tensed, as Sophia hurried between us.

“Monde, get your ass back in that chair and eat!” she snarled jabbing a finger to the average dining room chair with a cushion on it. “Jimmy, let’s go.”

She practically dragged me out of the dining room, while Monde returned to his chair, flipping me off. I heard everyone talking about me as we left and was relieved to get to my room. It might be drab with beige walls and an uncomfortable twin bed, but it was better than that damn dining room.

“I can see why you avoid meals now,” she said, as my stomach grumbled. “I’ll get you a tray and from now on, you’re taking your meals in here. We’ve got to work on this age problem.”

“Sophia?” I asked, as she turned to walk away. She nodded, and I sighed. “Is the age thing only going to get worse in phase two?”

She nodded, before walking away to get me a tray. Apparently anger makes me hungry, which would figure. I didn’t want much, but no one here seems able to respect any of my wishes. Sure enough, Sophia brought me a tray with everything on it: bread and butter, meat loaf, mashed potatoes, a cheese stick (did she know I was craving?), peas, and a piece of cake with a bit of ice cream on it. I didn’t bother fighting her; I just said thanks and sat at my desk, making sure my door was locked.

“Ugh,” I said, choking down the cheese stick. Why I picked that as my craving reliever is beyond me but I need to change it. I damn near threw that back up and I think I’ve reached my cheese stick limit. At Jacoby’s he had a variety of things for me to use to relieve cravings and I really liked that. Something, I guess, to talk to Dr. Mathias about.

After the cheese stick, I ate two bites of meatloaf and called it good; I was full. That would have to do for tonight. I set the tray outside of my room, keeping the water, and then locked my door once again. I was working on a sketch of Jacoby and wanted to have it perfect for the next time I saw him. Sketching seemed to be the best way to keep my mind off things, and I had filled up several sketch books.

“Jimmy?”

I sighed, as I went to my door; Sophia was looking at my tray, a frown on her face. “Yes?”

“I thought you were hungry,” she responded, gesturing with the tray. I’m sure I turned green at the sight of the food. “What happened?”

I shrugged. “Food repulses me, okay? Be glad I ate what I did because anymore than that and I’d have puked. And I want to change my cravings reliever, too; I’m sick of cheese sticks. I’d like to be able to choose.”

She nodded, clearly disappointed, and took my tray away. I locked my door as Monde came down the hall, glad I didn’t have to deal with him tonight. Perhaps phase two would go better for me, though I highly doubted it.

***

“It’s hell,” I told Jacoby as we sat in my phase two room, which was identical to my phase one room. I’ve been here for two weeks and I think I’m going to die. “The group sessions are fine, I guess, though I’m not really getting much out of them yet. But everyone here is ten or more years older than me and they all hate me. The house staff here won’t let me skip meals and I am forced to eat. I got so sick last night, Jacoby.”

He hugged me, and I could see that he was becoming angry. “I wish there was something I could do, Jimmy, I really do. But you were not approved for outpatient therapy, so we have to soldier through.”

I bit my lower lip, sure I was going to start crying. “I’m going to die before that happens,” I told him and I was being truthful. “I mean, the classes I can handle, and I’m going to finish my GED on time, but no one here can stand me.”

He sighed, his face a bit red. Unlike me, he’s able to control his anger, but I knew he was pissed and I suspect someone’s going to feel his wrath. “I’ll talk to Dr. Mathias again, but I don’t think anything can be done. You’re required to get through this rehab program Jimmy. Believe me, I’d pull you out if I could, but I can’t.”

I’m almost ashamed that I started to cry. If I had a home to go to, I’d want to go home; as it was, I wanted to just be turned loose back to the streets and left there. Of course, that won’t happen, but breaking out of here was always on my mind.

“I just want to go home,” I sobbed, as Jacoby stroked my hair. I knew Dr. Mathias would be coming soon for my session, but I didn’t care if he saw me crying. “I want out of here, Jacoby. I don’t want to finish the group sessions.”

“Oh look, he’s a fag and a baby,” a voice taunted me and Jacoby’s grip on me tightened. Maybe now he’d see what I put up with on a daily basis. “Enjoying time with your boyfriend?”

It was Monde, who had apparently done his phase one time and was now onto phase two. Hooray. I ignored him as best I could, even though he was standing in my doorway. I saw the doctor come up behind him and hoped some saving might occur. He was still stick thin, but of course, the doctor was too polite to just shove the bastard aside.

“Excuse me, you’re blocking the entrance,” the doctor said, politely.

“Got two boyfriends, kid? Wow, you get around. Man up, dude, you aren’t going to last in here otherwise.”

I sobbed harder, as Monde scoffed at me and left. His frame disappeared as the doctor finally entered the room, closing and locking the door.

“Who was that?” he asked, settling at the desk in my room. He arranged a small silver tape recorder, a black binder and a plain notebook, setting his pen on top of the notebook. “Besides a bully, of course.”

“Monde. He was in phase one with me and I thought I was rid of him. He’s one of many who dislike me.”

The doctor shook his head, as I dried my eyes. “I can see that you are now following your treatment plan, which makes me very happy. You’re also on track to finish your GED and thus get into the EMT program in the fall. However, it appears that we need to address your claims of bullying. They’re true, I can see, but we need to come up with some coping mechanisms for you.”

That’s just what I didn’t want, I thought, shaking my head. “Can’t I just go with Jacoby?” I asked, and the doctor shook his head. “Why not? It worked, there was no bullying, and I thrived!”

“Because, you need inpatient treatment, Jimmy. Your outbursts are still violent and you need medical care that can only be provided here. I know you want out, but you’re going to have to work for it. You’re doing well, Jimmy, but there’s still a long way to go.”

I started crying again, because no one was listening to me. That turned into anger and I punched the nearest wall. Jacoby grabbed me, cradling me but I blocked out what he was saying to the doctor. I didn’t want to be here and I was going to do whatever it took to get out.

***

The nice thing, if I can even say such, about rehab is going through the phases means you earn more privileges. As I transitioned out gradually, I was able to leave more often with Jacoby, which made me incredibly happy. He was a true best friend and I couldn’t thank him enough for all that he’d done for me. The halfway house was a better environment for me, but once I was done here, I had nowhere to go. I was done with my GED and working in fast food, but that wouldn’t pay the bills. I’d turned eighteen while I was in here, and that meant I could decide for myself what I wanted to do. Ultimately, I chose to stay with Jacoby.

“I bought a house.”

I blinked at him, as he arrived for my graduation from the halfway house. Several of his friends were here as well, and it felt nice to have people care about me for once.

“You what?”

He grinned, hugging me. “I bought a house. After you’ve settled in at the apartment, we’ll go see it. When it’s ready, you can have the apartment and I’ll help you pay the rent.”

I nodded, unsure if he’d made a wise choice or not. “That’s great. I can’t wait to see it,” I said, trying to be excited for him. But it was hard, because I couldn’t begin to think about such big purchases. “Who’s here with you?”

He smiled, pointing behind him. “Hollister, Sean, Tony, and Sean P., all from work. They’re eager to get working with you when the time comes as well,” he said, and minding my manners, I shook hands with everyone. “Well, let’s take our seats. Remember, party at my house after.”

I nodded, lining up with the other graduates. This would be the first time I’d ever graduated from anything and I was kind of excited. I sat on stage with the other members of my house and tried not to fall asleep during the speech our house mom gave. After that, it was time to accept my pledge to stay clean and then I was with my supporters again.

“We’re always going to be here for you, Jimmy,” Hollister said, as she hugged me. We posed for a group picture and then one of just Jacoby and me. “You’ve done amazing things, young man, and I can’t wait to see where the future takes you.”

“Thanks,” I said, and for once, I agreed with someone. “I’m going to try hard to stay clean.”

Jacoby hugged me again and I smiled; we had an amazing friendship and I could only hope it would continue to grow. For now, though, I’m content to have survived hell and made such amazing strides. I knew Jacoby was proud of me and that’s all that mattered to me. Smiling, I walked with Jacoby to his truck, eager to get settled into a normal life. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, of course, but I was determined to make it.

“Thanks for everything,” I said, as Jacoby followed his friends to his apartment. “I mean it.”

“It was no problem,” he assured me, glancing at me when he stopped at a red light. “Just stay clean for me, okay, Jimmy?”

I nodded, leaning back a bit, holding my small duffel bag in my lap. I didn’t have much, but I had a best friend and was on track for a great career. I think, really, I’ve got enough for now.

***

Fin.

That was really sweet. My only comment is that the ending seems a little rushed, he goes from being bullied and hating rehab to graduating from a halfway house in the space of a couple of paragraphs.

What's the contest this is for?

It's for the Angelina Shadows A7X contest.

I was a bit worried about the ending...I didn't think I had enough the way it was going for four chapters...there wasn't a max limit on words/chapters, but I didn't want to drag things out, either. I did consider expanding this chapter a bit, but wasn't sure how to execute that one. I'm thinking that after the judging period (which occurs is about five days) and the results, I might go back and revise the end of it.

This was absolutely beautifully done, Kel. I really can't find much to comment on technically wise, I was drawn into Jimmy's head and I'm stuck there now. You write him so well.

the mice endure wrote:This was absolutely beautifully done, Kel. I really can't find much to comment on technically wise, I was drawn into Jimmy's head and I'm stuck there now. You write him so well.

Thank you =). He's gotten into my head, lol, and he refuses to get out, lol!