This story is a work of FICTION. The events described are my own invention. Any similarities to actual events or persons are strictly coincidental. The author retains the copyright, and any other rights, to this original story. You may not publish it or any part of it without my explicit authorization.
This story contains depictions of consensual sexual acts between teenage males. It is intended for mature audiences only. If you find this type of material offensive or if you are under the legal age to read said material; please proceed no further.
Comments are always welcome at: hailcaesar2011@hotmail.com
The Peace Within Chapter 12
You would think that waking up in the hospital would be a dramatic thing, but it wasn't. It took me a moment to get my bearings, when I opened my eyes, the room was flooded with light, the birds were singing in the trees outside my window and it looked like it was going to be a beautiful spring day. I felt fine, I wasn't sick, my body didn't ache, I didn't feel anything at all, until I sat up to stretch. I got dizzy the moment I lifted my head off the pillow, I'd lost so much blood the night before that they had to give me a transfusion, I was still light headed and more pale then my usual Nordic paler.
I had to raise my arms to get a look at the damage I'd done to myself. My wrists were tightly wrapped in bandages, even still, some blood had soaked through, staining the white gauze. The cuts were wide and deep, I knew I must have had several stitches holding my skin together and that I'd have scars to remind me of how low I'd gotten and what I'd tried to do. I can't believe what I had done, I was selfish and stupid and I'm lucky that my dad is a doctor and knew what to do while I was panicking.
Yesterday started out rough but then I'd spent the day with Marshall, I'd kissed him and held him in my arms and it felt so right until he started touching me and bringing back such painful memories. Not only was I struggling with Patton's death, now I had to face the realization that we'd been molested by our own cousin and that it had left me sexually frustrated and scared to admit that I was gay. Before Patton's death I always felt that I lived a charmed life, I'm a smart person, reasonably good looking, I come from a family that loves me and has always taken care of me, things were perfect, only they weren't. I carried a secret with me that dominated the most private aspect of my life and I'd fought so hard to suppress it that the realization came as a complete shock. I needed help, seeing my shrink once a week wasn't enough, my demons ran deeper than anything I was prepared to deal with on my own.
A few minutes after I woke up, a man in hospital scrubs and a white lab coat came into the room. He looked at my chart, than seemed to notice me for the first time.
"Ah, we're awake," he stated, and I detected a slight Indian accent, "I'm your attending physician, Dr. Singh."
"Uh, good morning," I replied, unsure of what else to say.
"How are we feeling this morning?" asked Dr. Singh.
"Ok I guess."
"Very good, I'm going to check your vitals and then we'll change your dressings," the doctor explained.
"Where are my mom and dad?" I asked, while he listened to my heart with his stethoscope.
"They are in the waiting room with your brother, I'll get them for you when we're done here," said Dr. Singh.
"Are they mad?" I asked timidly.
"I think they are relieved that you are going to be ok, you gave them quite a fright, young man," said the doctor.
"Yeah," I agreed.
"Alright, your heart and lungs sound fine, your blood pressure is a little low but that is to be expected," he explained.
"I felt dizzy when I tried to sit up," I informed him.
"That also is to be expected, one of the effects of severe blood loss. I'll have them send in some orange juice and cookies, that will help to raise your blood volume and take care of the dizziness," said Dr. Singh.
With that said, Dr. Singh carefully lifted my wrist and cut away the soiled bandage, the sight was horrifying. There were at least thirty tightly woven stitches and that was just my left wrist, I looked like I'd been pieced together like Frankenstein's monster.
"Oh Jesus," I sighed, when I surveyed the damage.
"The cuts were quite deep, it took thirty-four stitches to seal each wound but they have stopped bleeding. I'm going to prescribe some antibiotics to prevent infection and something for the pain. You must be very careful, do not lift anything heavy or do anything that might put strain on your wrists for the next two weeks or you run the risk of unraveling the stitching," said Dr. Singh.
The doctor swabbed the wound with alcohol then wrapped it tightly in clean bandages before he moved on to my right wrist. When he was finished, he excused himself and said he would send my parents in and arrange for the juice and cookies he mentioned. I heard footsteps in the hall and braced myself for my parent's arrival, despite Dr. Singh's assurance that they were glad I was going to be ok, I still thought they might be angry. When they walked in, with Patrick, I could tell from the looks on their faces that they were more relieved than anything else.
"Hey sport, how are you doing?" said Dad.
"I'm ok."
"Parker, what in God's name were you thinking?" asked mom.
"I..." I began but dad cut me off.
"Andrea, give him some space, we can talk about that later," said Dad.
"I'm sorry," I sniffled, I knew I hurt my parents and it was hard not to cry.
"It's alright," said mom, hugging me, "I'm just so worried about you, I've already lost one of my little boys, I don't want to lose you too."
"I know, I'm so sorry, I don't know how I let myself get to that point, I regretted it the second I did it," I explained.
"I just don't know what to do anymore," said mom.
"I need help mom, I thought I could make myself better but I can't do it myself, I know that now, I gotta have help," I babbled.
"Has Dr. Kitridge been helping at all?" asked dad.
"A little, but I've been keeping things from him," I admitted.
"Parker..." dad started.
"I know, I know, I shouldn't have done that, I was trying to protect myself from things that were too painful to talk about," I explained.
"You have to open up son, you can't keep it all inside, look what it almost did to you," said dad.
"I know, I'm sorry," I sniffled.
Dad was about to say more but Dr. Singh walked in with a nurse in tow, she was carrying a tray with a large glass of orange juice and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. On the bright side, at least chocolate chip is my favorite.
"Good morning Doctor's Westergaard," said Dr. Singh, addressing both of my parents, "I'm sure you'll be glad to know that Parker's vital signs are excellent, his blood pressure is coming up and after examining his wounds, I am sure they will heal nicely."
"When will he be released?" asked mom.
"Why don't we step into the hall and discuss that?" asked Dr. Singh.
"Oh, ok," said mom, trading a look with dad.
"Can I stay here with Parker?" asked Patrick, speaking for the first time that morning.
"Sure honey, keep your brother company, we'll be right outside," said Mom.
"Parker, I would like for you to drink all of that juice and eat all of those cookies, you'll feel better," said Dr. Singh, then he followed my parents out into the hall.
When mom and dad were gone, Patrick walked over to me, put his arms around my neck and sobbed against my chest.
"I'm so sorry Parker, I didn't mean what I said last night, I don't want you to be dead, please, please, please don't hurt yourself again," he wept.
"Hey, last night wasn't your fault, you were mad and that was my fault, I'm the one that's sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," I said, trying to comfort him.
"Really, you're not just saying that?" he asked.
"I mean it, I lost it last night, I miss Patton so much and when I saw you in there, I just feel like if we leave his room alone it's how he left it, like he might come back," I sniffled, "I know it's silly but this is really hard for me."
"I know, he was your twin brother, but I miss him too and I wasn't trying to do anything bad," said Patrick.
"I know buddy, like I said, this isn't your fault, it's mine."
"I don't want to lose you Parker, you're the only brother I have now and I love you," said Patrick.
"I love you too, and I promise you, no matter what happens, I'm not going anywhere, I'm never going to do anything like this again," I assured him.
"So you don't feel bad anymore?" asked Patrick.
"It's not that simple, I'm pretty messed up but I won't try and kill myself again, the minute I finished, well, you know, I knew it was wrong, I knew it would hurt you and mom and dad, I never want to do that," I explained.
"There was so much blood," Patrick sobbed. Seeing me like that, blood everywhere, he's just 12, it was horrifying for him.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I repeated, while I rocked my brother in my arms and waited for him to calm down.
When he was finished, Patrick stood up straight and dried his eyes.
"Sorry for crying so much, it was just really scary last night," he blushed.
"It's ok, if it had been you, I'd be crying too," I stated, "hey, want a cookie, they're chocolate chip."
"The doctor said you have to eat them all."
"Well, I don't think just one will matter, come on, don't make me eat alone," I smiled, offering him the plate.
"Ok, just one," he smiled back.
While Patrick and I were eating cookies in my room, Dr. Singh was discussing the terms of my release with my parents. Because my wounds were self-inflicted with the intent to kill myself, there were some special requirements that mom and dad had to be made aware of.
"So when can Parker come home?" asked mom, once they were in the hall.
"You have to understand ma'am that Parkers injuries are self-inflicted and that involves special circumstances, I am satisfied with the progress of his wounds, normally I would send him home and instruct him to rest, change the bandages daily and keep the wounds clean," said Dr. Singh.
"But?" asked mom.
"But because this was an attempted suicide I have to place Parker on a 72 hour suicide watch once he is released from here," said Dr. Singh.
"What does that mean exactly?" asked mom.
"It means he has to commit Parker to the psych ward upstairs for three days," said dad.
"That is correct, your son is in a very vulnerable state right now, statistics show that those who attempt suicide and fail, are most likely to make another attempt in the following three days, than at any other time during their recovery," Dr. Singh explained.
"He's not going to do it again, he said he was sorry," mom bristled.
"I'm sorry ma'am, I am not a psychiatrist, I simply have to follow the law in this situation," said Dr. Singh.
"I don't want my son put in a mental ward," said mom.
"It's really not like that, I assure you. He'll be with other patients like himself, many of them are, sadly, children his age and none of them are violent or dangerous. We would not expose your son to any further harm," said Dr. Singh.
"Will we be able to see him?" asked mom.
"Of course, he is not a prisoner, he is allowed to have visitors, the staff is well trained and knows how to deal with children in this situation," said Dr. Singh, "I would recommend that you consult with your family physician and make arrangements for a psychiatrist to see Parker as soon as possible."
"He has a psychiatrist, Dr. Kitridge," said dad.
"Ah yes, Dr. Kitridge has a fine reputation, if he would like to come by and see the boy while he is a guest here, the staff upstairs will extend him every courtesy," said Dr. Singh.
"Thank you Doctor," said mom.
"You are quite welcome, your son seems to be a very nice and polite young man, I will make sure we take excellent care of him. I will keep him here until this evening so that I can change his dressings again and we'll move him upstairs before bedtime, his 72 hours will begin tomorrow morning," said Dr. Singh.
"But why do I have to stay for 3 days?" I asked, once mom and dad came back to the room.
"It's just a precaution son, the law requires it, there is nothing that we can do about it," dad explained.
"Ok, but I wanted to go see Dr. Kitridge," I stated.
"You really do want help, don't you sweetheart?" asked mom.
"Yes," I sighed, "I'm tired of feeling like this and last night scared me just as much as you guys, I need help."
"Don't worry, we'll talk to Dr. Kitridge and get him to come visit," said dad, "there are also doctors and counselors you can talk to upstairs, they all want to help you Parker, if you're serious about getting better, you need to open up to them."
"I know dad, I promise, I'm going to be different, I have to."
"Ok then, your mom and Patrick have been up all night, I'm going to take them home so they can get some rest, we'll be back this evening and stay with you until they move you," said dad.
"Ok," I agreed.
"Parker, do everything that Dr. Singh tells you, if he wants you to drink more juice, drink it, if he wants you to eat more cookies, eat them, any medications they bring you, take them, do I make myself clear?" said dad, somewhat sternly.
"Yes sir," I nodded.
"Good boy," said dad, then he kissed me on the top of my head.
Mom and Patrick both hugged me and mom kissed me on the cheek but then they left. I was glad they were gone, they looked so tired, I wanted them to get some rest too. You're probably asking why, if I want to get better and promised be open and honest about everything, didn't I tell them about Patton's call or about what Kevin did to us? The answer to that is simple, I know I need to tell them, I can't keep those things in anymore, but I also couldn't tell them here, like this. These are deeply personal things, I want to sit with them in the comfort of our home and share the things that have been causing me so much pain, not do it in some anonymous hospital room.
My surroundings however, won't affect my ability to share with my doctors, I can't wait to see Dr. Kitridge. I figured out that he was a good psychiatrist during our sessions, I felt like now, when I started telling him the whole story, he'd truly be able to help me. When I cut my wrists and saw all that blood, it wasn't my life that flashed before my eyes, it was what I was going to miss out on if I died, that hurt worse than the cuts and I am determined to get better. I have so much to live for, I love my family, I love Patton and killing myself would be a disgrace to his memory and, I love Marshall.
Marshall, I'd treated him so badly the day before, when none of it was his fault, he's on my list of those I need to make amends with. In fact, while I sat there, eating cookies and waiting to be transferred, I asked for a pen and pad and started to make a list of all the things I had to do in order to purge myself of the guilt I felt and the wrong I'd done. I say the wrong I've done because I let my guilt consume me and it led me to make poor decisions, I knew I didn't have an easy road ahead but lists help me to focus and focusing made me feel more determined. I was busily scribbling on my pad when my first visitors arrived.
"What the fuck do you think you were doing?" said Lee McCarthy's distinct voice, when he and Henry walked through the door.
"Lee, Henry, what are you guys doing here?" I asked, I was surprised, no, shocked to see them.
"We stopped by your house, you ditched class yesterday so I picked up your homework for you, we were going to drop it off but your mom was really upset and she sorta just blurted out everything that happened," Henry explained.
"She told you everything?" I blushed.
"What the fuck do you think you were doing?" Lee reiterated.
"I, I wasn't thinking I got upset and I..." I spluttered.
"How dare you," said Lee, this was the most I'd heard him speak since Patton's death, he was pissed, "Patton is dead, he's gone, you're all that's left of him and you were just going to throw that away?"
"Hey Lee, take it easy," said Henry.
"No, I won't take it easy, Patton was my best friend, I promised him that I would watch out for you and then you go and do something like this," said Lee.
"You promised him?" I asked, both Henry and I were confused.
"The day he died," said Lee, calming a little, "we were walking to lunch and he said he had to stop by the library and pick something up for you. I made a joke about you being "the Professor," and he looked at me real serious and said, "he's a good kid, if anything ever happens to me, I'm counting on you to look out for him."
"He said that?" I asked, I couldn't believe it.
"It was weird, it was like he knew. I blew it off at the time but then he died and the last thing my best friend asked me to do was look out for his twin brother and I'll be damned if you're going to kill yourself," said Lee.
"That's why you guys have been following me around at school?" I asked.
"Yes," Lee admitted.
"I had no idea," said Henry, "I just thought you could use some friends after what happened and well, you look like Patton; that made me feel better."
"Look guys, I know I've been a dick to you in the past, I'm sorry about that, but Patton loved you guys and I want us to be friends, and Lee, I'm sorry about what I did, like I told my parents, I'm never going to do anything like that again," I stated.
"You swear?" Lee sniffled.
"On my life," I promised.
"You almost gave that away, swear it on something more important to you," said Lee, it was kind of harsh but I understood, he was hurting too.
"I, I swear it on Patton's grave."
"Ok then," said Lee, with a sigh.
"How are you feeling anyway?" asked Henry, changing the subject.
"Ok I guess, I mean, my wrists ache a little but not much, I was dizzy earlier but they gave me some food to increase my blood volume and I feel a lot better now," I stated.
"Well, thank God for that," said Henry.
"Hey guys, I need a favor," I stated.
"Sure, what?" asked Henry.
"You know my friend Marshall?"
"Yeah, the blond guy from lunch," said Lee.
"I need you guys to bring him to see me," I stated.
"Why?" asked Lee.
"It's hard to explain, please?" I asked.
"Sure Prof," said Lee.
I gave them Marshall's address and they promised they would head straight to his house. I waited patiently until the guys returned, Henry and Lee waited outside while Marshall came into the room.
"Parker, what's going on, your henchmen came and got me and, what are you doing in the hospital?" asked Marshall.
"I asked them to bring you here," I stated.
"I just got back from a run, they didn't even let me shower they just shoved me in the car," said Marshall.
"Sorry about that," I smiled weakly, "I told them it was important but I didn't think they'd do that."
"Forget it, why are you in the hospital, they wouldn't tell me anything," said Marshall.
I didn't want to say it, for some reason the word suicide stuck in my throat, instead, I held out my arms and turned up my wrists so he could see the bandages.
"Oh shit, Parker!" Marshall exclaimed.
"I know," I replied, looking down, feeling ashamed for the shocked and hurt look on Marshall's face.
"Is this because of yesterday, because I..." I began.
"NO!" I exclaimed, I wanted him to know that this had nothing to do with him, "Marshall I love you."
"You do?" he asked, somewhat puzzled.
"Yes, look, this has nothing to do with what you and I did yesterday, that was wonderful, this is about Patton and a lot of crap that's been going on in my head," I explained.
"I know you've been pretty messed up since he died, but that's natural," said Marshall.
"It is and it isn't, it's natural to grieve but it's unhealthy to hold things in like I've been doing. That's why I had the guys bring you here, I love you and I wanted to say it to your face. I knew you'd probably hear about this at school and I wanted you to know that I love you," I professed.
"Well I love you too Parker," said Marshall, "I have for a long time, I wanted to tell you but I was so afraid you'd think I was just being stupid loud mouth Marshall and think I was joking. I was going to tell you yesterday but well, I still really don't know what happened."
"I didn't understand it either, at least not then, I do now and I'll tell you about it but not till I get out of here," I explained, "can I have a hug?"
"Yeah, of course, sure," he gushed, then he hugged me tight.
I snuck in a quick kiss and gave him a smile but before he could say anything, Henry stuck his head in.
"Hey guys ,the nurse just told me that visiting hours are over for everyone who isn't immediate family, we gotta get going," said Henry.
"Ok, I'll be right there," said Marshall.
"Right, see ya Prof," said Henry, before ducking back out.
"I love you Parker Westergaard," said Marshall, then he kissed me on the lips.
"I love you too, Marshall Davis," I smiled, and then he was gone.
About half an hour after the guys left, my family came back and sat with me while I waited for Dr. Singh to transfer me.
"I packed a bag for you, pajamas and t-shirts for the next few days, clean socks and underwear," said mom.
"Thanks mom."
"Are you going to be ok?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'm going to embrace this, maybe this is what I needed, maybe I had to hit bottom before I could get better," I stated.
"Well, however you got here, I'm glad to hear that you do want to get better," said dad.
A while later, an orderly came in, he had my parents sign some paperwork and then he put me in a wheelchair for my ride upstairs. I was perfectly capable of walking but you know hospitals, rules are rules. I said goodbye to my family, hugged them all, then took my bag and parked myself in the chair. It only took a minute to ride the elevator to the 5th floor where the orderly handed me off to the psych ward's admitting nurse, a guy named Jeff. Jeff asked me a couple of quick questions and then led me to my room for the next three days.
"That's your bed there, you've got a roommate but you guys should get along ok," Jeff smiled.
My roommate was covered in blankets, I couldn't see an inch of skin and I wasn't sure that was his head on the pillow.
"Shut the light off please," said a voice from within the blankets, it sounded like it was coming from the foot of the bed.
"Noah, this is Parker, he's going to be staying with you for a few days," said Jeff.
"Hi," I stated.
"The light, please shut it off," said Noah.
"Yeah, that's Noah," said Jeff, shrugging his shoulders, "do you have everything you need Parker?"
"Yeah, thanks," I replied.
"Alright then, good night boys," said Jeff.
I tuned out the light and I climbed into my bed.
"Thank you," said Noah.
"Uh, yeah, sure," I replied, then rolled over on my side and tried to get some sleep.