The Outsiders: Randy's Little Sister

Chapter 17: Halloween

I went back to the therapist but I wouldn't tell her anything. It had been a full three weeks and therapy didn't help. Maybe it's 'cause I didn't open up but it didn't matter 'cause she just gave me more pills and forced me to have them. Literally forced. She made Darry put them in my food and called me stubborn for not trying to make myself better. I had also missed something like 15 of Randy's calls 'cause I wasn't sure what to say to him. I know I had promised I would call, but everything was so overwhelming and I didn't want to drag him into my problems.

A few days ago, I called the centre and asked to stop my sessions. They asked why and I just blamed it on the therapist, who was drugging me up. They said they would change the therapist and that worked. She recommended to write something on my wrist like it's alright and to be honest I liked it 'cause I looked at it every time I felt down.

Johnny got better pretty fast, faster than I could heal but he had an exterior wound. I didn't. I had an interior wound. One that only I could see. The gang was the best and everyday they found a reason to get me out of bed. Even if it was just to go to school.

The date was 31st October, a Saturday, and my birthday was just 'round the corner. I say just 'round the corner but I had to wait 4 days. 96 hours and everyone of those hours, I was not going to feel tired, no matter how those drugs effected me. My personality, my mind, my mood. It changed everything 'bout me in different, sometimes, unnoticeable ways. The drug, Prozac, was the same drug I refused to take with Randy and it was the same one that Darry put in my food. The difference was, Randy gave up and wouldn't force me but Darry wanted me to get better and that meant giving me the drug. I started to search for it in the food he gave me and when I found it, I would put it in my pocket and step on it after dinner.

I picked up the phone in the lounge and got out the piece of paper that had Bob's number written on. It was early in the morning and the sun hadn't risen but I was finding it so hard to sleep for more than 4 hours a night. I dialled the number and waited, patiently as the phone on the other end, rang.

"Hey," a sleepy voice said and I sighed.

"Bob."

"Yeah.... who is this?"

"Zola." I spoke slowly into the phone.

"Hey, ya alright? Ya sound.... different."

I started to wonder why I called.

"Ya still there?" Bob breathed in deeply. He sounded real tired and I suddenly was sorry that I woke him up.

"Yeah." I looked at my wrist. It's alright. "Can ya get Randy?"

"Sure." It was silent for a moment. I looked 'round the Curtis' lounge. No one was there. Everyone had gone back to their own house and Darry, Soda and Pony were upstairs.

"Zola, hey, why ya up?" The phone crackled. "Hey, what's wrong? It's 4 in morning."

"Um..." I wanted to tell Randy 'bout the therapy and the pills and my unworthiness and my tiredness, but I couldn't put it all into words.

"I started to go back to Mrs Simon's." I began.

"The therapist?"

"Yeah. I wasn't feeling too great. My mind has gone wrong Randy, it's lying to me."

"What do ya mean?"

"I feel so numb. I punched my mirror just to feel something." When I said it back to myself, I felt stupid. Utterly stupid. What was the point in that?

"Ok... stop taking the pills." He sighed.

"How'd ya know I had—"

"I'm not stupid. Those were the side effects. Don't just think that I didn't read what it could do to ya, Zola."