Chapter Twenty-Four

"Has everyone thought about today and what it might be like to be in this session?" Dr. Crimm asked.

The seven of us were sitting in the circle again in the treatment room at R2L. This time we knew what we were in for. My anxiety was revved up, making my hands shake and my stomach vibrate beneath my navel. Damien's hands were tapping on his head and his body was rocking rhythmically in his chair.

"I still want to do it," Ken answered. He looked pale. His forehead was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and there were dark bags beneath his eyes.

"You've thought about what it might be like to see your trauma again?" Dr. Crimm leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "You understand that everyone will be watching what's happening inside your mind as it happens?"

Ken nodded. "I'm not saying I'm looking forward to it, but I want to see it all." He turned to Damien. "Are you sure you're still okay taking it with me? I want you to know I'll understand either way. I've thought about it and if it's not what you think is right for you, don't do it."

Damien paused as he listened to Ken's words. Dr. Crimm didn't push him for an answer or wedge herself between them, she just waited as Damien gathered his thoughts and considered his options. Time seemed unimportant in that room with no clocks on the wall, and together we waited.

Damien raked his hands through his hair and then let them fall between his knees. He looked up at all of us, but then focused his attention on Ken. "I'll do it."

"That's what you want?" Dr. Crimm asked.

"Yes. I was going to do it for him. I wanted to help him get the answers he needed or the closure he thought he would get." Damien's eyes stayed on Ken's. "What you said last night I could relate to. You told me you wanted to see everything that helped push you off the bridge. I've lived my whole life wanting to know what it's like to be inside someone else's head. I've been told my brain works differently—that I just don't understand." He shook his head and laughed shortly, a chuckle without humor. "You're right. We owe it to ourselves. I was going to do this for you, but now I'm doing it for me, too. If I can see myself from a neurotypical perspective, maybe I'll finally understand why I always end up alone."

Ken put his fist out and Damien bumped it. Marco did the same. Damien's lips curled up slightly, the small gesture probably routine for Marco and Ken but significant for a boy who never felt he truly belonged in a group.

"Marco?" Dr. Crimm turned to him. "How are you feeling about watching Ken and Damien take the medication?"

"I think they're making the right choice," Marco answered.

Dr. Crimm smiled. "That's a thought, not a feeling." She said it in a way that required a different answer, but was still playful enough that it didn't come across as scolding or prying.

Marco sighed and rolled his eyes, but then smiled as he answered, "I'm feeling nervous for them but happy, too. I feel jealous that they will get some answers today and I'm starting to think I really want to get some answers of my own. I'm also afraid." His last admission took the humor from the conversation and allowed a thick cloud of seriousness to fill the room.

"What's your fear?" she asked.

"It's my turn next. I'm afraid of what I'll see. I'm afraid Koralee might decide she doesn't want to take the medication." He cleared his throat and I had to swallow down the lump that was forming in my own. My stomach bounced and shook as I thought about the pressure I'd feel after today—the pressure I was already feeling, knowing I was Marco's last hope.

"I'm afraid it won't be enough to help me," Marco shared. "If this is the last medication that might fix whatever is going wrong in my head, then if it doesn't work it will be hopeless. I was hopeless the night I tried to take my life. It's a dark place to be. Now I've gotten a little taste of hope again and possibly a few friendships with people who understand what it's like to feel depression that severe. If I take the pill and wake up on the other side in the same place I was a few nights ago, then that will really be it for me."

"I can't promise that this pill will make you want to live. I can't promise that any treatment will work. But I can promise that if you end your life you eliminate the possibility of there being a tomorrow for that better treatment to come along," Dr. Crimm told him.

"Is it crazy that I'm equally afraid it will work? What if I want to live? I'll have to go back to my life and pick up where I left it. I didn't just set it down and walk away, I smashed it to pieces and set it on fire. And all the reasons for me wanting to escape it will still be there. Even if I get better, they won't." Marco crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes looked tired, the red veins contrasting with the dark rings beneath them.

I looked around the group. Shima's face was still puffy from crying, and even in that moment she was fighting back tears. Her hair was dirty and piled up on her head, her lips chewed until they'd bled. Aideen's eyes were just as tired as Marco's, and Ken had been declining since the first time I'd seen him. How had I not noticed before that I wasn't alone in this? When I took the time to get out of my head and step away from my own problems to watch and listen to others, it was easy to see we were never truly alone, even when it felt like the loneliness could kill us.

"You can't fix people, Marco. Ending your life doesn't fix them, either. All you can do is work on your happiness and set healthy boundaries. Make amends for the mistakes you've made and then let time pass to heal the things that apologies can't mend," Dr. Crimm told him.

With Damien and Ken on board to take the medication and Marco cleared to watch, it left us girls to give our consent. Dr. Crimm turned to Shima first. "How do you feel about watching them take the medication?"

"I feel curious," she answered. "I think they should do it. I'll be okay."

"Aideen?" Dr. Crimm asked.

"I'm ready," she answered.

"Koralee?" Dr. Crimm looked at me. The first time I'd been asked I had felt tremendous fear. I wasn't as fearful this time and yet I knew it was going to be difficult to watch Damien and Ken suffer through their experiences.

"I'm anxious. It was hard to watch last time, but I think it helped Shima and Aideen, so I want to stay and be here to see it." I reasoned.

Dr. Crimm nodded once and stood from her chair. "Alright. Let's get started."

We positioned our chairs so that we could watch the large screen above the two treatment chairs, which Ken and Damien had occupied. I'd been nervous the first time, but now I was more invested. I knew Damien and Ken now, maybe not as well as I knew my friends back home, but I felt a loyalty to them that I couldn't quite explain. It was going to hurt terribly to watch them struggle.

Dr. Crimm set the SmartLens boxes on each of their trays and opened the refrigerated compartment behind the seats to get them a bottle of water to wash down their pills. With everything set up, she took their vitals and made notations on her tablet. She wasn't wearing her white coat today and it made her appear to walk that line between being one of us and one of them—the adults who tried to fix us and at times made bigger messes of things, instead.

"Please put your contacts in. Damien, yours have been created to correct your vision, as well. You will not need to wear your glasses." Dr. Crimm slid her finger along the screen as she directed the boys.

"How? Doctors have always told me I'm not a candidate for contacts." Damien asked curiously.

"They're weighted," she answered easily, "and incredibly expensive. Not covered by any insurance plan. They've been custom-made for you here on campus."

"Figures," Damien mumbled as he used the small mirror on the contact case to insert the state-of-the-art lenses.

"Who wants to go first?" she asked as she pulled the pill containers from her pocket.

"I will," Ken answered without hesitation. He blinked his eyes to clear away the excess saline solution and to make sure the lenses were where they were supposed to be.

Dr. Crimm held her palm out flat as she gave each boy his pill. "Okay. Ken, you swallow yours first. Damien will take his later. Good luck. We'll all be here waiting for you when you wake up."

Ken set the pill on the back of his tongue and washed it down with the water. He shot Damien a playful wink and I wondered if joking around was how he always handled being nervous. Damien saluted him. The black screen overhead flickered to life.

"Ken, take a deep breath. Let your thoughts drift back..."