Salvaging the Road to Redemption - 3. Chapter 3 - Days Like This

I’ll admit, I’m not a fan of mental health professionals. The very idea of someone trying to dig into the inner recesses of my mind and soul sets off so many alarm signals, it’s like the control room of reactor four at Chernobyl right before the explosion. At this point, I had seen more than my fair share of the inside of therapists' offices.

Some offices were ornate to the point of feeling ancient, while others were light and airy with lots of space and small toys for younger children. Then some were elaborate with works of art on the wall and others with bare windowless rooms made of concrete and government-provided furniture to reduce costs. No matter the size, no matter the level of furnishings they all had one thing in common.

They were hard for me to breathe in.

Bone-crushing anxiety always met me at the door, waiting to greet me like an old friend or an abusive foster parent who had one too many to drink that night. I always felt sick, like something was gnawing at me from the inside just waiting for a chance to burst right out of my gut. I used to think it was just anxiety, but as I sat through the sessions I realized the awful truth.

The bedeviling deep within trying to burst out wasn’t some alien from another planet, or the anxiety itself. It was the simple truth of my nightmare existence, my anguish that wants to come out. The pain, the fears, the insecurities I’ve kept buried deep inside. It desperately wished to be set free, and it took all my willpower to keep it trapped, hidden, and buried. To share those deep dark secrets, those ghosts in the closet simply could not be allowed. It wasn’t safe.

Then the dreams started and with them, The Hand.

I shivered every time that thought came across my mind. I felt ashamed that I didn’t fight hard enough, I didn’t say no. I just let it happen over and over and over again. It was all my fault.

I didn’t understand the expectations people laid on me, how telling some stranger my deepest, darkest secrets was supposed to help me. I mean, I pictured the day I finally talked about it, and then what? So now someone else knew how screwed up I was in the head. What was it going to accomplish?

Nothing, absolutely nothing. No, not going to happen.

I was better off if nobody knew how bad it was. I was almost 18 now, I had a job, I’d been working for a few weeks, and was doing well there. I had some cash saved up, and school was right around the corner. I, of course, had to go and bring home passing grades but my birthday was only a couple of months away. Then, I would be free.

Free from The System, free from pity, free from those who prayed on me. Once I was free I would just go, disappear into the world and try to build something new, maybe even be normal for a while.

I let out a sigh and took in my surroundings. This was my fourth appointment since starting at the garage. Tomorrow would make my employment one month official, and my therapist Sheila Davis was nowhere to be seen. She also happened to be a guidance counselor at the high school across town from the one I would be returning to and she often bounced between this office and the school.

My relationship with Sheila wasn’t great. As a therapist, she was a little more abrasive than most and usually made me feel like I was taking her time away from something important.

My thoughts were interrupted when the door opened and an unfamiliar male walked in with a folder. I cast an unsure glance as he made his way to the chair Sheila normally sat in. He was a little on the tall side, thin, with brown wavy hair that matched his eyes and he looked a little on the young side, maybe early 30s at best.

“Benjamin, hello. Sheila wasn’t able to make it today, instead of canceling your appointment she asked me to step in if that’s okay.” The man said with a softness I had never heard before.

I raised an eyebrow, “Uh, okay?” I know I looked a little uncertain. “If Shiela can’t do it today I can come back, no need to cause trouble for you,” I said hesitantly.

I didn’t like new people, to be honest. Just the thought of having to start back from the beginning yet again weighed heavily.

“It’s not a problem! I actually know a little about you from Sheila, and she’s wanted me to meet with you for a while now,” He said with a warm smile.

“Meet me? Why?” I asked carefully.

“I tend to deal with young people, such as yourself, that have been through similar difficult situations. Sheila meant nothing sinister or anything like that,” He said with another one of those warm smiles.

“Look, Mister…” I started and realized I hadn’t actually gotten this guy's name yet.

“Casey, Gavin Casey.”

“Look, Mister Casey, I don’t want to be another hard luck case on your desk, that you think you can fix,” I said, letting out a sigh.

“Benjamin, you aren’t a hard luck case. And I can tell you honestly I can’t fix you. All I can do is help lead you in the direction you need to go to fix yourself.”

“Mister Casey, I don’t think-”

“Call me Gavin, or Gav if you prefer,” He said cutting me off.

“Gavin, I don’t think you can help me. No one else has,” I replied flatly as I sat back heavily in my chair.

“Ben, I’m not like other people. Can I call you Ben?”

I nodded silently. Great just what I needed, another Mighty Morphin’ Power Shrink. The displeasure on my face must have been evident because Gavin studied me carefully.

“Why are you here today Ben, and what exactly would you like to accomplish?” Gavin asked gently, his hands clasped together as his dark eyes drilled into my skull.

“I’m here because the State makes me come,” I said flatly.

“If the State didn’t make you come here, why would you be here?” He asked again.

“Because I’ve got issues. I’ve got a past and baggage in the trunk, I guess.”

“We all have issues, what makes yours so special?” Gavin asked not so gently this time.

“Seriously? They aren’t special. Hell, I'm not special. I’m just a nobody, a mistake, a stain on civilization,” I spat with a bit of restrained anger which surprised me. This was the first time I ever felt anger in therapy other than the fact I had to go.

“I see,” Gavin said a little flat as he looked at some notes I’m guessing Sheila had made. “You seem a little angry Ben, any reason why?”

“Because I don’t want to be here,” I admitted honestly, “I don’t want to talk about myself or how I feel.”

“What about at work? Do you talk to them about yourself or how you feel?”

“Absolutely not! That’s the one place I feel normal. I’ve worked hard to make my square peg fit into that round hole. The only person who knows the truth is Gus, the owner. He guessed it the first day I was there.”

“So you keep the truth about you locked inside.”

“Yeah.”

“Sheila says the same thing in her notes,” Gavin said absently as he continued going through the pages of the folder. “Have you made any friends at work?”

“Yeah, one. His name is Josh. He’s close to my age and seems to care, I guess,” I said wiping the hair out of my eyes.

“Have you said anything about yourself to him?” Gavin asked pointedly as his gaze remained on the pages in front of him.

“Of course not!” I replied a little too quickly, my response made Gavin raise his gaze back to me.

“Okay, let’s go back to what you said before about being a nobody, a mistake, a stain on civilization. What makes you feel like that?”

I huffed in my seat so I wouldn’t sigh again. My mouth formed into a line of slight frustration. “I don’t feel like that, it’s just what I am. If I wasn’t I wouldn’t be here.”

“Be here?” Gavin asked, digging a little deeper.

“Here, in this office, in foster care, in a group home, you name it,” I said, trying to keep my anger in check.

“You honestly think your whole being is a mistake because of the circumstances you’ve found yourself in?” Gavin countered.

I didn’t give him the answer he wanted but we both knew what the answer was, which was a resounding yes. He looked at me carefully and sat back in his seat probably going over his next move, like a chess piece going for that checkmate.

“You’ve probably heard this before, but I’ll say it again. You are not a mistake or a nobody and there are people out there who came from where you did and who’ve done great things. I can understand if right now you don’t see yourself doing anything great but the meaning still stands,” Gavin explained carefully.

“I’ve heard that before,” I said simply looking down at the floor.

“I’m sure you’ve heard many things before,” He fired back, and he wasn’t wrong. “Can you tell me about the dreams?”

My head shot up and I glared at him. “Are those in there too?” I asked, nodding my head at the folder in his lap.

“More or less.”

“I can’t talk about those,” I said quickly.

“Why?”

“Because The Hand doesn’t like it,” I said absently, then realized how badly I just screwed up.

“The Hand? Can you elaborate on that?” Gavin asked, closing the folder and looking at me intently.

“I can’t,” I said quickly getting up, taking a few paces behind my chair.

“You aren’t alone Ben. There have been others who have been through what you have, far too many sadly. Don’t be afraid to give that pain inside of you a voice. No one can hurt you,” His soft voice said soothingly.

I still couldn’t say it.

“Can you at least tell me what The Hand does in your dreams?” Gavin asked.

“It… It comes for me in the dark. I have dreams where it’s just black, or I’m in a dark room and it just appears and tries to grab me,” I explained as I leaned back into my chair resting my head in my hands.

“How often does this dream usually occur, Ben?”

“Anytime things start looking good, and since things have been going great, it’s almost every night now,” I admitted as I reached to wipe the sweat forming on the back of my neck.

“So, it shows up to ruin whatever joy you try to feel.

I remained silent. He was right of course, but I didn’t want to give in and admit it, especially to a shrink.

“Are there any other dreams that trouble you?”

I thought about that answer as well. My eyes glanced back up at the guy who was trying to dig into my soul. “Not really. Just average dreams of displeasure. They don’t wake me up like that one does,” I admitted tossing Gavin a bone.

He looked at me like he wanted me to continue my thought, again I couldn’t.

“Ben, have you actually ever talked with anyone about those dark moments you’ve lived through?” He asked softly.

“Honestly? No. I don’t even want to think about it,” I answered as my eyes twitched in discomfort.

“Did you ever fight back?” Came the follow-up, just as soft.

That question hit home. He knew, and he was making sure I knew that he knew. “Of course I did!” I spat with anger, “They were always too strong! A couple even slammed my head against the floor,” I said bitterly and wiped a tear away from my right eye.

Gavin remained silent.

“I tried until I couldn’t. And then… I just didn’t anymore,” I huffed as something got caught in my throat. “If I let ‘em just do it, they didn’t hit me.” Bile rose in my throat as I said that final comment. I forced it back down along with the tears.

“It hurts, doesn’t it? Not just what happened to you, but that moment when you stopped fighting back. You didn’t give in Ben. I know you feel guilt and shame, and you probably hate yourself for it.”

I nodded quickly as I thumbed away another tear.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Ben. None of it was ever your fault. I often tell people the price you pay for guilt, is worth less than the guilt itself. Don’t feel guilty because you didn’t want to be beaten. I know it’s hard to think like that. It’s the truth. You were faced with impossible no-win scenarios nobody your age should ever go through, and you did what you could with what you had. Nothing more, nothing less.”

I nodded quickly again and winced my eyes shut as absolute frustration erupted from my vocal cords in a strangled groan. I clenched my eyes again, dammit don’t fucking cry.

“The dreams you have, when things are going right, is a self-defense mechanism. It’s reminded you to stay on your toes and not get too comfortable. Unfortunately, it’s using the worst imagery, your mind can come up with as a reminder.”

“So what do I do?” I asked, in a quiet voice.

“If I or anyone else had the answer to that question surety, no one would suffer and I’d be out of a job. Finding the answer to it isn’t going to be easy, Ben. It never is. All we can do together is help you find direction toward the answer to that question. Once we do it will become clear to you.”

I closed my eyes and rubbed the corners at the bridge of my nose with my fingertips. “I don’t know if I can.”

“I know. All I ask is that you are willing to try. That’s half the battle right there. Would you like to attempt to try? If you want, I can work with you instead of Sheila if that makes you more comfortable.”

“Okay,” I replied meekly, like a child who was admonished for getting into the cookie jar.

“Are you currently on any medications right now?” Gavin asked as he pulled out a pad from his shirt pocket.

“No,” I said honestly.

“I’m going to write up a prescription for you to use temporarily. This will help take the edge off. I can already guess you don’t want to take anything for the long term, and frankly, I don’t want that for you either. This will help you sleep, and maybe help with the dreams. In fact, I had one patient who had issues with dreams and it helped him immensely,” He said as he filled out the prescription and handed it to me.

I looked at it carefully, then looked back at him. “You think you can help me then?”

“Yes, I know you don’t trust me, or anyone else, Ben. Trust has to be earned, but I would like to get the chance to earn yours if at all possible. I believe I can help you find the direction you so desperately need,” Gavin finished.

He gave me his card and I looked at it. “Your office isn’t far from here,” I commented, as my emotional stability started to return.

“No, it’s not. I’ll get everything settled with Sheila, don’t worry. Just call that number on the card you’ll get Kelly, my assistant, and she’ll set up your next appointment, okay?”

“Thanks,” I said as I got up.

“You’re worth saving, Ben, I know a couple of people I’ve worked with before who would agree as well and you haven’t met them. Yet anyway. Call Kelly, we’ll see each other soon,” He said with a small smile.

“I will.” I managed to afford this very strange shrink, half a smile before I left Sheila’s office, knowing it would be the last time I set foot in it, and somehow that made me feel a little better.

Days like today, when I had therapy always put me in a bad mood. Usually, it was the person digging that caused this, and I hated it. Except today was different. I didn’t feel any better at all, and some parts of me felt worse than normal on days like today. I just couldn’t ever open up, and today I almost did and that scared me. I learned early on that showing any kind of vulnerability opened you up for attack, and as you can guess I was attacked in many different ways, many different times.

There was no ignoring that bedeviling feeling inside of me was yearning for release, to be free. Part of me wanted for it to be free, but at what cost? What was going to happen to me when I finally released it? Would I be the same person, would I be different, would I feel good about it, would I feel worse? It was just all too much for me to ponder.

As I left the office I stuffed the script into my bag, it also had written on it which pharmacy to take it to that was close to the garage. I figured if I filled it, I could do it discreetly if I explained to Gus the situation so no one else had to know.

I couldn’t help feeling jealous of people on the street that early afternoon. People seemed to move through the area without a care in the world. Living life, being normal, worrying about the little things such as a bill, or what to cook for dinner, or if so and so really wanted someone else to attend some party.

They didn’t know how good they had it.

To just worry about simple stuff.

To not worry about where you’re going to sleep that night or if you were going to be able to sleep that night. To not worry about being a victim of some kind of assault that happened to some of us on a near-daily basis.

I always thought it must be nice for normal people to live in complete ignorance of the horrors life could throw at people, and sometimes I wished I was ignorant of it too because ignorance is bliss.

I’m not sure what Gus told the guys at work why, on the days I had to disappear for these appointments every week, no one really tried to question it. Josh would often give me a look when I appeared, thinking I wouldn’t notice except I always did. It wasn’t a bad look, just one of soft concern. I really wished I could talk to him, to tell him the truth. I honestly did feel bad about lying to the guy especially since he did seem to care and was an honest friend to me.

I had gotten to know Josh a lot over the last month. He still picked me up for work, every day. We picked up breakfast at that donut shop on the regular or some of the other places he liked that were opened early. I could never say no to lunch, even though I tried and he still wouldn’t let me pay for it which irked me a little bit.

I figured if the horrible truth about me ever did get out I could just offer to pay back what he spent on me, I didn’t really like the idea of owing anyone for anything point.
Now that my appointment was done, I made my way back to the garage. We had grown in numbers slightly since I got hired. Gus managed to convince Josh’s friend Anthony to return as a mechanic and also hired another guy, which swapped me from shop duties to mainly handling the office and the reception desk.

I’m not going to lie, life at work was easier with air conditioning than it was out in the shop. Gus seemed happier and a little less stressed now that he was spinning a wrench instead of buried behind invoices, and he was content to let me grow in the position. One thing I learned quickly about myself which was to the benefit of Gus was that I was pretty anal about numbers. For some reason, they had to add up and when they didn’t, I tried to find out why. More often than not it was just due to a missing piece of paperwork buried on Gus’s desk but lately, such piles were non-existent.

When I arrived at the garage, it looked like the first day I showed up to apply. Vehicles were parked everywhere. There was even a car blocking Josh’s Camero in his parking spot.

“Oh, thank God you’re back!” Anthony exclaimed as I walked through the door.

“Why, what’s going on?” I said with a frown as I approached him behind the counter.

“It’s been busy today, the phone hasn’t stopped ringing and we’re behind on getting service orders printed.

“Do you have the write-ups?” I asked shoving my bag under the counter and taking my usual seat at the counter.

Anthony thumped a stack down in front of me.

“Damn okay, any priorities?”

“No, we just need the orders on the board, I tried ordering the parts but some chick named Sarah said I should just wait for you to come back,” Anthony explained.

“Yeah, that’s because last time someone tried, they ended up sending forty cases of something we didn’t need. Gus was pissed until I was able to get it straightened out.”

“It must be nice to be wanted,” Anthony said as he flashed me with a grin.

“Yep, it most definitely is.”

Anthony patted me on the shoulder and went back into the garage yelling, “Ben is back!”

There was no mistaking the sound of whatever Gus had in his hand hitting the concrete outside, “BENJAMIN! Service orders please, otherwise all these slackers are just going to stand around and take my money!” Gus barked from the garage.

I also heard Josh make a comeback but didn’t hear what he said.

“Fuck you sunshine!” Was Gus’s only reply.

The work didn’t take me long, I got all the orders printed and placed into the plastic folders that hung on the wall behind me, along with the vehicle's keys. Anthony hadn’t been wrong about the phones because I had trouble getting the parts ordered and often had someone on hold while I was dealing with another customer. It was all part of the job.

I was so busy that afternoon that I didn’t have time to talk to anyone until close to closing. I was so wrapped up in closing the office for the day I didn’t hear or see anyone approach.

“Hey,” Josh said causing me to flinch a little in surprise as he leaned against the far end of the counter.

“Oh hey.” I said, “Sorry you scared me.”

“Yeah, you looked busy.” He paused for a moment as I continued to work. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh yeah, why do you ask?” I questioned, giving him a quick glance.

“Just wondering about these half days, you take every week.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just appointments I have to go to.”

“Nothing serious?” Josh asked.

“Not as long as I keep going to them,” I said with a sigh.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, don’t be sorry. I’ve got stuff I’m working through.” I said slowly with an emphasis on ‘stuff’.

“Gotcha. If you ever need anything… Well, you know,” Josh tried to tell me, something I already knew. He had said it before and it was difficult for me to not totally shut him down.

“I know Josh. For real, I’m fine,” I lied, with a smile. God, that made me feel guilty. I berated myself internally for doing this to him. I had a crush on the dude, and I didn’t need that to get out of hand.

He seemed to take me at face value and let me know we’d be leaving as soon as I was ready. I felt bad though as he walked away. Sometimes it felt like if there was anyone I could be honest with it would be Josh and I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

One day maybe, just not today.

Josh had seemed to let the earlier conversation go, on the ride home which I was thankful for. Instead of pushing me about my day, he told me how much of a mess it had been that morning and even made me laugh at some of the antics the guys had experienced to get through it. I was dropped off at that same dark house, and Josh didn’t question it. We said our goodbyes and as soon as he was out of sight I started walking to the real ‘home.’

I was met by Tammy, Samantha, as well as Mrs. Carsen who all sat in the living room. I cast an uncertain gaze as I slowly closed the front door, somehow I knew this was about me.

“Benjamin, come in and sit down, dear. We’ve had a development.” Tammy said as she stood up.

“What kind of development?” I asked very cautiously.

“Christ, get that look off your face, this ain’t bad news,” Tammy said as she ushered me to an empty spot on the couch.

“Benjamin, how have you been doing?” Mrs. Carsen asked as she closed the folder that lay open in her lap.

“Good, I’ve been working, been saving. Still keeping my appointments,” I said evenly, as I tried not to fidget in my seat.

“That’s great to hear. You’re progress reports from Tammy and Sam, have been encouraging. In fact, they’ve been great,” She explained. “The reason why I’m here is because, well, we’re going to release you.”

“Release me?” I asked suddenly feeling nauseous at the thought of being kicked out. “I thought that wasn’t happening until November.”

“Yes, normally you are correct, but due to overcrowding, we’ve been going through progress reports for many people your age. You know, teenagers 17 close to 18, that have been responsible, and working towards life after foster care,” Mrs. Carsen said as she pulled a manilla envelope from her bag.

“I still don’t understand,” I said with a confused look on my face.

“Oh, just show him, Brenda,” Sam said getting impatient.

She pulled out a small stack of paperwork from the folder and handed it to me. I froze as I saw the first line at the top of the page that read, “Petition for Emancipation of a Minor.”

“What,” I said quickly as I went through the pages. “What…” I repeated, my brain totally frozen. My eyes started to water and I lost the battle with my lungs as I started breathing faster.

“The judge signed it this morning. We would have told you earlier but it happened so quickly.”

No longer able to hide my building anxiety, a look of dread appeared on my face, as I looked to Tammy and Sam, “Am I being kicked out?”

“No, no Ben. Calm down, dear.” Tammy said immediately. “You got some time, not much, but some.” She said quickly trying to alleviate the panic that was escalating.

“The idea Ben, is to get you started early before School starts. Listen we have transition housing available to help get you on your feet. It’ll be your own place and the state pays for it for the first three months. There is also a small fund set aside for you that we can deposit into a bank account as soon as you open one, which you can with these documents. Everything is there from State I.D., banking information, and options for employment, but you already have a job.”

“What about School?” I asked.

“Yes, that too. With what you make now, plus the 3 months assistance, plus the funds you’re getting you should be able to complete the school year just fine working part-time,” Mrs. Carsen said. “Plus there are other assistance programs available to you should you need them.”

My brain was on fire, as everything rushed in. I was done, I was free. It was over, finally fucking over. I had dreamed out this day, I had prayed for it in my darkest hour of need. Yet, I felt so woefully unprepared as it finally arrived.

The conversation continued about the immediate steps I needed to take such as getting a State I.D. and opening the bank account. On my next day off though I would need to visit the transitional housing and make arrangements with the owner. Thankfully, from what was being said, it looked like the place was fully furnished but I was warned it was probably older pieces which were fine with me.

My only real concern was, did I have the ability to make this work. Did I have it in me to survive on my own without direct support or would I crash and burn? What would I tell Josh who took me to work and picked me up? Gus would understand, he already knew. Aside from those things, school was my main worry, I was going to have to balance out my senior year against living on my own and working and I had a feeling the two were at some point going to clash.

I went to bed that night both relieved and terrified. For once there were no dreams.