It’d taken us a few months and we’d come dangerously close to spending the last of our money but we were finally settled down with a steady income. I’d got a job waiting tables in the evenings in a posh restaurant and did odd jobs around town in the days for a little extra cash. Damien, on the other hand, had gotten himself a new band and a new bar job. I was proud of Damien. He was almost off the drugs and was finally getting on with his life. But, I couldn’t help but be a little upset. I mean, he wasn’t away much at the moment since he only had practice a couple times a week, but once the band got bigger, he’d be off on tour for months while I stayed home on my own.
I smiled as I took my first order of the night. I actually liked working at the restaurant. Considering it was a posh restaurant, the staff and the owners were pretty laidback about everything. They didn’t mind if I was late and I wasn’t punished for any mistakes I made. The customers let all hell break loose if I got their order wrong or anything but everyone else was cool about it.
“Everyone makes mistakes once in a while. It’s human nature” the head waiter had told me when I’d gotten a couple orders the wrong way round.
I couldn’t help but be a little paranoid that Graham was somehow going to show up, though.
I don’t know how she did it, but somehow Mom found out where we were living. Maybe she asked Damien’s mom but... she wouldn’t rat us out, would she? I honestly didn’t know anymore. All I knew was Mom was stood in front of me, telling me this was all for my own good. Okay, then. Next thing I know two fucking white suits have grabbed hold of my arms and I’m being dragged towards a suspicious looking black car. I kicked up a fuss but it didn’t help. I practically begged them to let me get my phone so I could call Damien but Mom told them to ignore me and that I was better off without him. Fuck off, bitch, I fall apart without him. Shit, what if he thought I’d left him? I mean, he’d have no idea where I was and, c’mon, I’d left him before without bothering about my stuff. These fuckers better let me call him.
I glared at the woman that was supposedly going to help me. I didn’t need help. With Phil out of the picture, the paranoia had stopped and I was pretty much off the drugs completely now. Sure it’d been a struggle and I’d given in a few times but I’d gotten through it so far.
“Do you know why you’re here?” the chick asked, putting on one of those voices that’s s’posed to relax you. Y’know, the kind of voice you’d use around a crazy person.
“Because my mom thinks I need to be” I said casually.
“Do you think you need to be?”
“No. Can I go now?”
She chuckled. “Not just yet, Kyle. Do you know why she thinks you need to be here?”
I sighed. “I know you’ve looked up my medical records so just cut the crap”
She nodded. I wasn’t quite sure if she was a doctor or a nurse or just the receptionist but she seemed to know what she doing either way. “We’d like to keep you here, just for observation”
“Can I call my boyfriend and let him know you’re keeping me hostage, then?”
“Your mother has said it might not be best to let you have contact with the outside world while you’re staying with us. She didn’t give us a specific reason but it is something we have to take into account given your previous history”
“My previous history?”
She nodded. I guess I’m s’posed to know what she’s talking about, then. Yeah, like hell I do. What “previous history”?
“So... Can I call him or not? Because he’ll probably think I’ve left him and try killing himself again or something. Plus I kind of have a job so I can’t really just disappear or anything”
It took a lot of bitching and complaining but they eventually decided to let me call Damien. Shame it took them a whole fucking week. I’d no doubt lost my job as well since they hadn’t let me call the restaurant either to let them know I’d been dragged into the crazy house. Fuck my life.