A Descent into Darkness

Temptation

"You okay?" I ask Syed while sitting next to him in the reception area of Dr. James' office. We both have appointments today. Dr. James has arranged a video chat with Dr. Sanchez so she can get a better idea of the problems that ail us. Syed's been shaking and has looked positively pale ever since we arrived, probably as a result of withdrawal.

In advance of his appointment, I forced him to stay with my family, where we practically chained him to the bed to stop him drinking since last weekend. That was in response to Dr. James relaying to us that Dr. Sanchez prefers patients be in as clear a frame of mind as possible during consultations. You may be wondering why we didn't try a similar method to help him go sober in the past. Believe me, we tried. It works for about a week. Short of kidnapping him, we felt there wasn't much more we could do. It broke out hearts that, even with my family's experience of dealing with addicts, we couldn't do more, though one must admit the circumstances of addiction were a bit different. Liza's substance abuse was a result of homophobic bullying, not watching her brother get beaten to death in a hate crime, where no justice was ever delivered.

Syed nods. "Yeah, I'm okay. You know how it is when I go dry drunk and all."

"Yeah, I'm all too familiar."

"Seriously though, Nate, thanks for doing this."

"Hey, you're my brother. I'd do anything for you."

Syed laughs. "If it wouldn't give my parents a heart attack, I'd kiss you right now."

I shrug, hesitant to weigh in too much. Personally, I've never seen Syed's parents exhibit behaviour that suggests they have a problem with the LGBT community. They've been to plenty of gatherings attended by Liza and Bianca, and have never failed in treating Liza with anything other than the utmost kindness.

Syed says they have no problem with homosexuals, they would just prefer their child wasn't one. They have their flaws, sure, the main one being they have no idea how to help their younger son cope with the death of their older son. But as said flaws are mostly born from the grief of their son's death, no one could reasonably hold that against them. Losing a child is something no parent should have to go through. Think about it. Someone who loses a spouse is called a widow, or widower. A child who loses their parents is an orphan. But there is no word for a parent who loses a child. It's such a dark thought that no one's bothered to try and label it.

I shudder uncomfortably at that thought, thinking about what I nearly did in that woman's house four months ago. I almost certainly would have been caught. How would my parents have reacted? I used to think that my parents would prefer to lose me through death, rather than hear that I killed someone. After seeing Syed's parents after Ali's death, I haven't been so sure. If I were arrested, at least they could cling to the delusion I was innocent. I never figured out if I would try to dispel them of that notion so they would let me go and spare themselves that pain, or try to cling to it in the hope of not losing my parents. Oh well, hopefully I never have to find out.

At that moment, the door to his office opens and Dr. James steps into the reception area, smiling. His assistant is on vacation today, so he's welcoming us himself.

"Hello Nate. And you must be Syed."

"I am, Sir."

"No need to be so formal if you don't want to, son," Dr. James replies, calmingly, as they shake hands. "You call me whatever you want. Dr. James, Edwin, Ed, Mr. Goose, whatever you prefer."

"Nate told you I had a bad experience in therapy, didn't he?" Syed notes while looking at me. I definitely did, which is probably why the doctor is trying so hard to make Syed comfortably.