Snared(23)
I turned the channel on the television, not caring what was on the screen. We’d been home for a week and had been doing nothing but killing ourselves with rehearsals. We’d found out we were flying to New York next week to promote the release of our tour dates and stops with our label. After we returned, we’d have a few weeks of constant practice before we’d leave home to tour.
It was probably a good thing we’d been working so hard over the last week, because my head hadn’t been right since I walked away from April my last night in Orlando. I knew Natalie had been texting with her because she’d been telling me things about her. That was a further reminder of what I’d walked away from every time I heard her name.
If I wasn’t practicing, I was in my room. I hadn’t gotten got out of bed much, and I knew Natalie was worried about me. I couldn’t make myself get up and eat or do anything. She’d taken to almost force feeding me in my room and sitting on my bed, trying to keep me off the ledge.
That was how I’d ended up with another therapy appointment today. Natalie had her on fucking speed dial. This time, she’d gotten Bex involved. When the two of them started, I didn’t stand a chance.
“You ready?” Natalie appeared in my doorway, her purse on her shoulder.
“You aren’t taking me. I’m a big boy, Nat. I can drive myself.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t start with me, Beau. I’m taking you.”
I often wondered how my sister ended up so beautiful on the inside and out, seemingly unscathed by our genetics. But then again, I was happy she didn’t have to deal with the things I did. If someone had to take the brunt of it, I was glad it was me. At least she could still have a purpose in life. Even if she refused to find it. It was my goal to get her free of me so she could be her own person.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and groaned. “I’m fine, Nat.”
“You are not, Beau. You know it and so do I. So does everyone. You’ve hardly said two words this entire week. I don’t know what the hell happened, but this isn’t a way to live.” Her voice cracked. I hated it when she cried. It tore what was left of my soul to shreds.
“Nat.” I pulled her into a tight hug. “It’s okay.”
“I can’t lose you.” She cried into my chest, and I stroked her back. “Please.”
This world would be a better place if no more of that psycho’s blood were running through anyone.
“No one is losing anyone,” I whispered into her hair, though I couldn’t help but think she’d be better off without me, even if she didn’t agree.
“So your meds are not controlling your depression,” my therapist, Dr. Mia, said.
“I’m fine.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. All the women in my life had perfected that skill. “Beau. I can’t help you if you aren’t real with me. Tell me what’s going on.”
“I can’t stop the fucking voices from telling me I’m a worthless piece of shit. There, now are you happy?”
She pursed her lips. “That’s much better. Not only are we getting somewhere, but I’m getting some emotion out of you. So, you’re hearing voices.”
“The same fucking voice.”
“Your mother’s.”
I didn’t need to give her an answer; she already knew. “And having fucking insane dreams, so I can’t sleep.”
“Dreams of what?”
“Visions of my dad, then he morphs into my mom. Then I’m standing on a bridge, peering down at the water below, and my mom is standing behind me, ready to push.”
Her eyes widened. “This is new. Do you want to end your life?”
“My life is worthless.”
“Why do you think that, Beau? That couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“So I can play drums. Big fucking deal.”
“Do you think your sister thinks that’s all that defines you?”
“My sister has to love me. She’s my sister.”
“I think you and I both know she doesn’t have to love you, Beau.”
Way to remind me that my family was a bunch of fuck-ups who hated me. “Thanks, Dr. Mia.”
“I don’t mean it the way you’re taking it. Love is a choice. Natalie loves you. Bex loves you. You have a purpose in life.”
“They could find another drummer just as talented as me.”
“Beau.” She steepled her fingers and stared at me. “Are you thinking about committing suicide?”
I tapped my fingers on my legs in a rapid rhythm. “Not really.”
“Not really? You’re going to have to give me a little more than that.”