Therapy (Jalex)

Session 26

Patient: Alexander William Gaskarth

Notes: no appointment this week

-Dr. Bassam Barakat

-

Home. This was home. The familiar scent of my room, the faint music coming from Tom's room. I heard my father talking on the phone in his office, and British soap operas on the television downstairs, my mother's doing.

"Tom!" my father screamed from his study. "Tom Gaskarth!"

I heard the pounding of footsteps, my brother running across the hall. His music shut off. I presumed he was in trouble again. Tom always got into trouble, like snapping at policemen, flirting with girls that had boyfriends, and so on. I listened, so curious as to what the trouble was this time.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" my dad demanded. I pressed my ear against the wall, curious.

"What do you mean?" asked Tom.

"You spent $178 on alcohol last night at a nightclub," snapped my father.

Oh my God, I thought. That was really bad. He wasn't supposed to do that.

"Yeh, I met some friends there and I bought them drinks," Tom replied coldly. I heard my father inhale sharply. Suddenly, I didn't want to listen anymore. Tom was my hero, and I didn't like learning my hero's faults.

"You know," stated Dad, "I don't think you would buy your friends that many drinks and not drink at all, Tom. Do I need to send you back to Alcoholics Anonymous?"

"Dad, no!" Tom yelled. "That's a load of bullshit! I'm clean!"

He's clean, he has to be, I thought to myself. I knew that he hated to go to support groups, and I wanted my brother to be okay.

"That's not what your bill says," Dad said. "You need to get your life together. Come back home when you're really clean."

"Are you kicking me out?" Tom's voice rose in volume. "You can't do that!"

"Yes, I can, Tom. I can't have Alex living with such a bad influence. I'm booking your ticket back to London now. Go live with your sisters and come back when you're ready."

Tom, no!

I woke up, my heart racing. Why did I have that dream? Was there a reason for reliving the day that Tom was kicked out, the event that lead to his downward spiral to death?

In London, his condition worsened. My sisters didn't really watch over him like parents would, so Tom could always sneak out and get drinks with friends. It got to the point where he faked a job to have an excuse to leave on hour's end. And one day, he was found dead. He had died in his sleep. They found bottles and bottles of various drinks hidden in his room.

So why have this dream now?

"Alex?" My mother opened the door, my father following her in. "How are you?"

"Everything still hurts." She had visited me yesterday and asked me the same question. It wasn't like I would heal that fast. But she was worried, and I felt loved.

"Well, we have to go to work soon, but we just wanted to drop in and see you," said Dad. "The house is quite empty without you, and we can't wait to have you back."

"I love you, Alex," my mother said, kissing my forehead.

"I love you too."

My parents hugged me as best as they could, since I was lying down, and left for work.

I was alone again, and I started to think about Tom.

I closed my eyes, remembering Tom's face. He didn't look like me all that much, since we were only half-brothers, but we did share some of our father's features, although I clearly resembled my mother more. I missed seeing his face in real life. I missed him a lot.

I missed him so much. Why didn't I think about him until now? I had almost forgotten about my own brother. I had almost forgotten about how sad I was. I had almost forgotten about real life.

Warmth built behind my eyes, and I felt the tears.

Sing me to sleep, I'll see you in my dreams, waiting to say, "I miss you. I'm so sorry."

The crying had tired me out, and I drifted off into a hazy slumber. I had no dreams; it was unconscious darkness for a few hours. The nurse woke me to give me medicine, and I was awake and bored again.

It was another good two hours before my mother barged in.

She walked in, alone, and shut the door behind her rather loudly. I glanced up, surprised. Her eyes were tinged red, and in her hand was a plastic bag containing green capsules.

Well, fuck.

"Alexander, would you like to explain this to me?" she demanded, shaking those little emerald pills in my face. "Would you like to explain to me why my only biological child does drugs?"

"Um..." What was I supposed to say? No? Because no, I would not like to explain why I had a stash of drugs.

I was dead meat.

"Really, Alex, I thought you would've learnt about drug addictions with Tom," she exclaimed, her pitch rising half an octave. "Do you want to end up like him?"

That triggered something in me. The dream I had lingered in my mind, and I felt like screaming. My head started to throb, and I couldn't take that anymore.

"Maybe I just wanted to end up with him!" I snapped, totally done. "You don't ever get over your brother's death, Mom!"

My mother was fuming. "You know what," she spat, "I'm going to do you a favor. I'm going to flush these down the toilet and confiscate all of your money so you'll never see them again!"

"No!" My throat closed up with panic. My breathing became labored and I started to sweat. My hands shook as I started to freak out.

What was I going to do? Vertigo was the only thing that could erase the pain when Jack wasn't there. I was out of alcohol, and I didn't dare take more from my parents. There was no way I could live with myself if I couldn't forget.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I gasped for air. The room was closing in around me, and I felt like my heart would burst.

"You can't do this to me!" I shrieked, clutching my sternum. "Please, no!"

Nurses came rushing in, trying to calm me down. One ushered my mother out, and another loaded a syringe. My eyes bulged at the needle, and I started frantically moving around in my bed.

"Shhhh, honey," said the one with the syringe. "You're having a panic attack. It'll be over soon."

She stuck the needle in my arm, and I gasped. Everything started to deflate, my heart rate, my breaths, my brain's ability to process. My muscles started to relax, and my eyes closed again.