Trouble Times Two

Chapter Seven

Friday

I had spent most of the day, staring at the same wall and it was only 12 o'clock.

My God this was boring.

I could escape to my house but I know the reason I was here because Maisie, Carter, nor my aunt could make it and all my other cousins were younger than me.

I read a book that's on the side of Donovan's bed. Well I try.

First of all, the fact that Donovan reads books psychs me out and secondly, it's difficult to read when the words are jumping at me and are all jumbled like this.

I obviously wasn't thinking I was going to stay here so I didn't bring my green filter with me.

I sit up and try to read the book he's got which is the communist manifesto. That would be a red flag if he was reading it alone but it was for history class.

It's really difficult to read this because it's not just long, it's a bunch of incoherent rambling thoughts that have been written into a book.

Somebody walks in.

It's Donovan.

He's looking for something and I'm just trying to read the stupid book but it's not going into my head.

This must be a new edition of the book because it's very tight small font, on bright white paper.

He grabs the book out of my hands and I almost have a fright, that's probably what he was looking for.

I don't want to react and so I just lie back down and stare at the ceiling.

"You look like shit." Donovan says and I just stare at him and then pull a puzzled face.

"Didn't everyone tell you not to bother me? So stop bothering me." I can't be asked with him.

I just realised that I'm going need some insane help when it comes to reading and I don't even know the first place to go to ask for it.

My headache has come back and it's worse than it was before.

I try to press the buzzer and Donovan's mom comes up and asks me what's wrong.

"Can you take my temperature?" I ask and she does so and when she does both Donovan and her seem a little scared.

"Gigi, you're burning up. I need to take you to the hospital. Donovan help me get her up. I'll grab your stuff." Donovan kind of just roughly picks me up and then kind of drags me to the car.

This was kind of fair game for when I manhandled him when he was drunk but also, he broke into my house and then wouldn't leave because he was drunk and then accused me of being in his house.

He kind of pushes me into his mom's car and it takes me everything to not get angry with him because I feel like on the edge of death now.

I try to buckle myself in but my head hurts and my hands feel weak and almost like liquid.

Donovan makes a big fuss of it but buckles me and when he does he gets awfully close to my face.

"Do you want to get ill or something? Move away from her." His mom says as she looks at me. She calls someone on her phone. "Hi Maisie, not to panic you but I'm taking Giana to the hospital because her temperature has gotten higher. Does she have insurance?"

She writes down some stuff and sends Donovan on his way.

"Be back by seven. No drinking." Paisley is fed up with Donovan, I can tell, but she clearly also loves him so much.

I look out the window as we drive to the hospital and I start to feel a little bit more tense as we approach the hospital.

This was where my parents were rushed to when I was ten, when they got caught in a alley during a gang fight. Both were shot and both died.

That's when my life was flipped.

I had only been to 'normal' school for two full years out the eight years it had been since my parents death. When I completed this year, it would be three.

I spent a lot of that time in wilderness 'therapy', juvie and military school.

When my other aunt decided to finally give me up and Aunt Tara took care of me, I finally had the little luxuries that I'd be wanting my whole life. I got to relax and lie down on my bed, which was a heartbreaking luxury to have.

I was convinced I would never go back to school and I'd be stuck my whole life being a failure but in some insane miracle, I was fine.

I passed the SAT in sophomore year, with dyslexia accommodations of course, and they said I could go back to an age appropriate grade.

If they'd just let Aunt Tara take me in straight away, if they had believed me when I said that Joni was abusing me, I'd likely be in a much better place.

I probably wouldn't have gotten close to drugs or alcohol.

I couldn't think about the what ifs though, my therapist said it wouldn't help anything and I know he was right.

I couldn't stop thinking about wilderness therapy. As soon as I turned thirteen, I was taken out and I stayed there for exactly a year and six months and when I came back , I went on a drug and alcohol rampage until I was sent to juvie for beating up the man and also being part of an illegal fighting ring. They didn't see the red flag in a child earning money off it, just that I was a criminal. I was there for a year and then I had to do a year of military school which didn't have any set calendar so as long as you completed the year in days, you were out when it was done.

I also think about my withdrawals from substances when I went to juvie. Somehow, Juvie was the easiest feat of them all because people believed in me there. Military schools was just an in and out for me but it distracted me. At least they believed in rest days, which was the weekend and that counted towards your three-hundred and sixty-five days. In wilderness therapy, there was not a day where we'd get a break.

When we get there, we wait for hours before I finally get seen and when I do, they just prescribe me medicine.

"I cannot take medication." I tell the doctor.

"Why not?" He asks, looking at my chart to see if he missed an allergy or anything.

"I used to be a drug addict, I will not take medication. Is there a way to get better without medication?" He thinks. He doesn't look convinced.

"The best course is to take the medicine." He doesn't really want to work with me here.

"That's fine." I say.

"Well it's not but I'm not letting her see someone who doesn't care about her well-being at all." Paisley says and we take the prescription and go to the pharmacy.

My family ordered me to go back to the Shepherd's and so I did.

That night, when I stare at the medication, I don't feel anything and when I take it, there's no high attached. I mean it's not an opioid but still.

I'm so glad. I've gotten over it.

I breathe a sigh of relief before lying down and for some reason, I fall asleep.