Run or Deal With it
“Straps” I look over at Jake. “Hmm” I ask? “What do you remember back at RTC when you told me you could jump through a window, on to a skateboard successfully? You would then proceed to continue down the hill to your freedom? “Yeah, I remember they put me in jacket for a week of observation. What of it?”
“If I may interrupt?—”
We look over to john the third of us who had been through it all.
“I seem to remember straps being a little more, shall I say, falling flat on his face crying his little emo eyes out.”
Straps, “I did not. I just didn’t realize the glass would be that sharp.”
John, “You’re an idiot. It’s not the same as in the movies. They use special breakaway glass.”
Straps, “I know that now.” I throw the plastic spoon I was using at John. “Besides, I was 16, and you were not so bright either.”
Jake, “True, but none of us ever got put in a jacket for cutting ourselves until we passed out.”
John, “May I add?—”
Straps, “No you may not add. I remind you that of the four of us.—”
John looks over at Jake in a more serious manner
Straps, “The three of us…” I look down for a moment. A wave of emotion flows over me realizing my mistake.
Jake, “It will be ok straps”
John, “Don’t be so hard on yourself kid. He was a good guy. We all miss him.”
I look up again; tears had formed on my face, “I know, it’s just hard sometimes.” My voice chokes for a few.
“I just wish I could have stopped him. I could have done it but I choked up. It’s not fair.”
“Straps—” Jake says with a sigh, tilting his head to the side as he does so.
“No Jake its bull shit! All of it! Dammit I could have saved him! I was there, right there. He didn’t even try. I reached out for him and what do I get. He stabs me in the back by giving up, he let go.”
John, “You tried to kill yourself straps—“
Straps, “What was I supposed to do, we did everything together. I was sixteen.
Jake, “straps please.”
Straps, “I was sixteen years old Jake. I lost him, he was everything to me and I lost him. Dam it we had a life planed together.
John, “You’re being unfair to yourself, he had his own problems, he didn’t have the same will power you have.”
Straps, “He didn’t even try!”
I sit there crying in sorrow over the loss of my best friend and first boyfriend I had. As I sit there I remember the times we had together and of the life in general at the RTC, sometimes LRTC.
Chapter 2 – Residential treatment facility
Friday November 11th 2004. Black ice, I love this song, I say to myself. I sit on the bus listing to my favorite song. I pretend to play along with the music imagining I am up there on that stage in front of millions of people. The crowd goes while and my guitar is on fire. “Bum bum bum.” I start to sing quietly to myself.
“NO TALKING” the staff assistant yells.
We were heading home from a field trip to the county jail. The staff at the RTC hoped that we would learn to behave better if we knew what life would be like if we did not behave ourselves. IT was a hard life; my parents had died in a fiery car crash when I was a baby. I’ve been going back and forth between foster care parents until one day my PDD-NOS caught up with me. My guardians finally had enough and sent me to the RTC.
I was turning 15 in three days but I felt indifferent. I had since adopted the emo sub-genre and was struggling to accept my homosexual feelings. In hindsight I realized I was incredibly sexy jail bates for 18 &19 year olds as well as young adults. Later in my life, after coming out publicly, I gravitated to a more feminine style of dress. I look up from my thoughts, we were almost home and I was getting hungry. Ugh dinner, it was also bad. The food was supposedly good but I never saw it that way. I had just arrived at the RTC three weeks ago and found it hard to fit in. Everyone was so hyper and they wouldn’t let me stay up late. It upset me greatly. I thought about running away but soon gave up those thoughts seeing other kids fail so many times.
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