I Dont Do Too Well On My Own

The Nineteenth Chapter

I sit up straight, violently. It sends my hair flailing into my face as if a gale force wind blew from behind me.

Its okay, Im Jesse, not Jessica. Jessica is dead to me.

I wipe the hair from my face and hug myself, attempting to stop the rabbit in my heart. Im overreacting.

"Hey, you okay?" Someone asks.

"Holy shit!" I shout, leaning to far to the side and falling out of bed.

I land face flat on the floor, arms sprawled. For a moment I feel like a squashed spider.

"The hell?" I continue yelling, with a hint of laughter.

"Sorry, did I scare you?" Patricks face leans over the edge of the bed to look at me. His smile curls onto his face.

His face looks like the moon in the sky. Several questions pop into my head, but Im too busy just staring.

He drops a hand down and I take it, standing and climbing back into bed.

"Was there any conclusions after last night?" I ask, completely disregarding the fact that Im sitting in bed with Patrick.

His hair is ruffled and messy, as if he went through the wind tunnel too. We went through the tunnel together...

"She wants us to come back to collect the report today." Patrick says, rubbing his eyes.

"Did I try to sleep with you last night?" I ask.

"You did, but fell asleep on the way back. By the way, you still havent told me where you live?" He raises an eyebrow.

"A few blocks from here. Its not a nice place, its barely a couple of rooms." I shrug it off.

No high rise flat and rich boyfriend.

"So, when do we pick it up?"

"We can go now?" he suggests.

I completely forgot that I had the recurring nightmare. Thats the power of Patrick, eh?

We return back around half an hour later, in my hands is a page or two that defines my life. It is a list of my faults and problems. Its a list of why I suck.

When we walk through the door Pete and Andy are having pizza. I havent seen Andy much, but he seems like a cool guy. I share a look with Pete. It wasnt much of a positive one. He doesnt trust me.

"What do you have there?" Pete drops his hand to his side, wiping pizza onto his jeans.

"Its- its... Well urm..." I try.

He doesnt know Im going through therapy, nobody but Patrick knows.

Pete walks towards me and I back away.

"Can I see it?" He asks.

I shake my head.

"Why not?"

He reaches for it but I move it out the way.

"Give it to me."

I keep stepping backwards until I hit a wall, moving my fault list out the way.

"Pete, stop!" Patrick tries.

"Come on Pat! Its secrets. Secrets kept from you and me!" Pete laughs, swiping for it again.

I stop stepping back, back against the wall. I clutch the paper to my chest and close my eyes, turning my head away.

"Whats so important about that paper?"

"Hey, Pete I think thats a bad idea." Andy tries.

Pete tries to open my arms, his breath on my face. "Whats so important?"

I cant hold on much more. I can hear feet walking over. Suddenly he rips it from my grasp. It cuts across my face as he pulls it into the air.

"Finally!" Pete yells.

I drop to the floor, my back against the wall. I pull my knees to my chest and bury my head in my arms.

"Pete, dont read that!" Patrick is following Pete.

Pete coughs before straightening out the paper, walking to stand on the living room table. Theres only one way to stop him. Im standing and running at him as he starts reading it out loud.

"Jones therapy centre. Patient 24601, Jesse.

Jesse lacks any physical atte- oh."

I dive at him, knocking him off the table with the full force of my body. We fly across the room, a roar raising in my throat like vomit. Anger bubbles inside me as we fly through the air.

We hit the floor with a sturdy slap, my head flinging back and forward towards the floor. It collides with Petes chest and he shouts. We slide to a stop on the floor, me onto of him, now clutching at the paper.

Everything is silent. I guess Pete and Andy have realised and Patrick is in shock. Meanwhile all you can hear are my violent breaths.

"Pete." I whisper, with as much poison as I can.

I roll off Pete onto the floor, curling into a foetal position.

Its quiet for what feels like forever, but is probably only a minute or two. Everyone is frozen.

I stand, staring the motion up again.

"I should probably go and sort this out." I say, motioning to the cut along my face. I make eye contact with Pete and he looks in shock. I rip the paper out of his hands.

I walk to the bathroom, leaving them silently standing.