Sign the Damn Papers

Ring ring ring

That bitch of a cell phone was ringing again.

I sat up in the chair I was in and grabbed my phone, checking the caller id.

It was my mom.

Great.

"Hey, mom," I say groggily.

"So, I got a call yesterday telling me you were suspended. Would you like to explain? You never got suspended before. Do I need to put you back in your old school?" She was rambling so fast, I almost didn't understand what she was saying.

"These girls pulled a prank on me. When I opened my locker, ketchup squirted all over me. So, I got them back. I poured my drink on their hair and inside their pants," I rush everything out.

There was a silent pause before my mom continued talking.

"Well, I'm happy your standing up for yourself. Good job, just make sure this is not going to be an everyday thing."

Wow. My mom was pretty cool about it. If I'd known that, I would have probably done it sooner.

"I have something else to tell you," I tell her, looking over at Nick whose sleeping in the hospital bed at a rehab facility.

"What's wrong? I can hear the worry in your voice." I hesitated as to if I really wanted to tell her. I stepped out of the room to speak to her.

"Last night I found Nick passed out in the hallway. They pump his stomach and said they found a bunch of OxyContin pills, a painkiller." My mom gets quiet on the other side of the phone.

"Shit. Did they tell you anything else?"

"Their considering keeping him here incase it's an addiction or an attempted suicide."

"Just tell me if anything else happens. I'll talk to Nick when he wakes up."

"Ok, bye mom." She hangs up the phone. I look back in Nick's room and he's still asleep, so I decide to find a vending machine.

Good thing I'm still SUSPENDED and I don't have to go to school. After I found Nick passed out, I called an ambulance and I rode with Nick to the hospital where they pumped his stomach and did everything else they could. Nick woke up, but went back to sleep after a while before I could talk to him.

This boy is a fat headache. I had to tell my boss that I wouldn't be able to come to work. I hadn't even worked for one day yet.

"Are you gonna get anything from the vending machine or just stare at it?" I got snapped out of my day dream by an oddly familiar voice. When I turned I came face to face with Chester.

"What are you doing here in a rehab center," I ask him.

"I could ask you the same." A guy comes up beside Chester and I feel like i'm seeing double.

"And who might this be," the guys asks. He was a little taller and a few years older than Chester. He had curly, black hair as well, but his was up in a bun and his eyes were a darker shade of blue than Chester's.

"Mark, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is my brother Mark, but I obviously look better. Mark laughs at what he said.

"You wish," Mark says. They seem to be really close and this is definitely the longest I've seen a smile on Chester's face.

"How's my brother doing in school," Mark asks.

"A bit of a jerk, but he has his moments," I tell Mark, joking.

"That's my brother. The jerk, but he can be kind hearted once you get to know him." Mark seemed really nice. Our conversation is interrupted after some time.

"Ms.Kingsley," a doctor calls me over. I pause the conversation with them and run over.

"Anything new?"

"So, we're sure that your brother has an addiction. We can see the damage that a long term of abuse has taken on his body. We can already see that his body is reacting from withdrawal. We'd like to keep him here, but he has to sign because he isn't a minor and we haven't been able to convince him."

"I'll talk to him." I enter the room and see Nick trying to get out of bed.

"Are you crazy, Nick? Lay back down. You were just passed out on the floor a couple of hours ago." I push him to lay back down.

"Spence, I can't just stay in here. I'll be fine. Let's just go home." I sit on the open space of his bed and breathe out a sigh.

"Be honest with me, Nick. How long have you been using?" He looks up at me, but doesn't say anything.

"How long," I ask him again. My voice more deadly.

"Since junior year." Three years. No wonder he took such a large dose. His body is used to it at this point.

"Why and how are you getting these subscription pills?" Nick started yanking on his hair in frustration. I can see he's sweating, a sign of the withdrawal.

"I have a friend who sends them to me. I can't explain it, Spence. It just makes me feel better."

"Is this about dad?" He puts his head in his hands and I hear him start to sob.

"My mind has been fucked up since then, Spence and I just can't stop the nightmares or panic attacks. I tried everything and the only things that worked were the drugs and sex."

"Nick, you never allowed yourself to mourn. None of us have and now you see the actual damage it's caused. You can't keep going on like this. I don't want to find you knocked out again. I need my brother, Nick. I can't talk to a corpse."

We were both a cry mess.

"It's been six years, Nick and we're still a fucking mess. You need to tell me when your hurting, just like I tell you. And you need to sign the fucking papers and stay here, so you can get better. The faster you do it, the faster you can get out of here."

"Okay." We both stopped our blubbering and hugged. "I'm scared, Spencer," he admits.

"Sign the damn papers. You'll be ok. I'm still here. I'll be here the whole time." He laughs at my aggressiveness.

When the doctor comes back in, Nick signs the papers and I tell him I'll be back the next day with some of his stuff. When I leave the room, I realize I don't have my car.

"Hey." I jump back in surprise when I see Chester standing in the hallway.

"Were you here the whole time?"

"Yeah. Mark had to go back to his room and I got bored, so I decided to wait for you. Do you need a ride home?" I breathe out a sigh.

"That would be great."

"What happened to your brother? How come he's in there," I ask Chester while he drives me home.

"After our mom died, he started taking drugs. Basically anything he could find. He would try to sell things in the house to have money to buy more. My dad got tired of it and sent him to rehab. He's doing better now."

"I had no idea. Does anyone else know about that?"

"No, so let's keep this between us. How about your brother?"

"Found him passed out on the floor when I got home. Just found out he's been using for three years. It's just been really hard for him after our dad died."

"What about you? Wasn't it hard for you after your dad died?"

"Of course it was. After he left, it was really hard for me in school, so I didn't really have the time to mourn over my dad."

"What happened," he asks, with a look of concern.

"You know kids are assholes. They started coming after me when I was at my most vulnerable. I was an easy target, that's all. I just had to get out of there."

"I thought you left because of your ex." Now Chester looked confused.

"He wasn't the reason why I left, but he was a factor. It was just a lot of things that piled up and made me leave. Being the sister of a heartbreaker didn't really help my case either. I just needed a new start. He kind of pushed me to the finish line."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Chester says, with pity on his face.

"It's alright. I've been through way worst." That made him frown even more.

"It's alright. Seriously. Stop frowning before you get wrinkles." By that time, we made it to my house.

When I got out the car, he still had a guilty look on his face.

That was an interesting heart to heart.