**TRIGGER WARNING** Discussion of child abuse--physical and emotional--is addressed. Brief reference of self-harm. Analyzing alcoholism and underage drinking is found in this chapter (once again, I am NOT condoning under-age drinking. If anything I'm showing how it turns people into alcoholics). Reader discretion is advised.

Everything makes me think of things

I thought I wouldn't have to sing again

You're the dread of my dreams

The desperation of my despair

Your presence is my pathos

Suffering is your perpetual perplexity

May we talk about me now?

You dug out my soul

Made a grave for my heart

That I visit sometimes

With long forlorn vacant stares

--From the song Soul Autopsy

Lyrics by Orion Bauwens

"Hi Orion. Thanks for calling me at a normal hour for once."

"Were you always insufferable, or did the alcohol do that?"

Heather laughs. "What's up, Orion?"

I scratch my forehead with my thumb. "I want to drink..."

"Are you okay?"

"No," I admit, closing my eyes. "Could we meet up somewhere?"

"Of course. Where?"

"Do you think if we called Reverend he'd let us use the basement?"

"I d'no, maybe. It's worth a shot. Do you have his number?"

"No."

"I'll text him and get back to you."

I shut my eyes. "Thanks Heather."

~

Half an hour later, we're in the church basement.

"It's really weird for me to be in a church."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," I tell Heather. "Growing up I was forced to go. I don't mind religion. I mean, I put my religious fears into some of my music."

Heather leans back in her black padded chair, crossing her arms. "Huh."

"Yeah. When everything in my life started getting fucked up, I started questioning my faith." I shake my head. "No, that's not even right. I was just wondering why God was angry at me."

She shakes her head. "God isn't angry at anyone, Orion."

"I know...But I was really confused and angry, yaknow? Especially when I had this music gift. Every time a teacher encouraged me about how good I was at music, I just...I hated it."

She looks surprised. "Why?"

"I felt like I wasn't good enough. Mediocre at best. I didn't want to let anyone down."

"What did you say when you'd get compliments?"

"I would just kinda mumble a 'thank you' and go back to whatever I was doing."

I run my hand through my newly short hair. Tristan did a good job. It's not even, but it looks like I had done it on purpose. I love it, not gonna lie.

"Did they still encourage you?"

"Oh yeah, all the way through high school."

Heather smiles.

"It was always, 'You're so good at music, Orion.' 'You should take music more seriously, Orion.' "Music will save you one day, Orion.' Whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean."

My sponsor laughs at that.

"But yeah...Even though everyone said I was really talented, I didn't take it seriously until I joined the band. And even then the only reason I took it seriously was because Jake and Ben did, yaknow? It's like...I didn't want to disappoint them. I had to keep up with them. I had to hold up my end of the bargain."

"So you didn't want to be in the band?"

"Oh no, I did."

"I'm confused."

"I just...I was doing it more for fun. More for my sanity. I was using it as a distraction, an escape at that point. So I just, fucking, threw myself into it and gave it my all because I didn't have anything else going for me."

"Don't say that."

"What? I didn't. My grades sucked, my parents sucked. I was living in a fucking trailer park in Michigan with no escape. Didn't have a girlfriend, or a boyfriend for that matter."

She raises her eyebrows but doesn't say anything. I can't help but roll my eyes.

"Seriously Heather. My future looked like it was going to consist of a blue vest with a name tag. Assuming I didn't kill myself by then."

She winces.

"What? I'm not going to sugar coat it."

She hesitates. "Killing yourself is a sin, you know. Since we're sitting in a church basement and you brought up religion."

I chuckle and shake my head, crossing my arms and looking away. "I'm not going to have this discussion with you."

"Why?"

I lean forward, elbows on my knees, rubbing my hands together. I look her straight in the eye.

"Because like you said, God doesn't hate anyone, especially not those who are suffering. I'm more concerned about what happens after I die than anything that happens while I still have a body. It's just a vessel for my soul. Chuck my body into the ocean for all I care. It doesn't matter. And I don't think it matters to God, either."

"What does matter to you, Orion?"

I lean back in my chair and pull out a cigarette. For a minute I simply tap each end of it against my knee. I finally light it, blowing my first puff into the air, and then hone my dark eyes back on her. "That is the question now, isn't it, Heather?"

"So is music your savior then?" she asks me after a pause.

I laugh and shake my head. "I think it cursed me."

"And yet, you still do it."

I grin. "And yet, I still do it."

She narrows her eyes now, though it's not in a mean way. "When did you start drinking, Orion? Exactly?"

"Fourteen," I answer immediately, without hesitation.

"Ah..." she gestures to me to hand her a cigarette.

I raise my eyebrow. "You're a doctor."

"Give me a damn cigarette."

I give her one and my lighter. After she's lit it and gives me back my lighter, she leans back. "Why?"

"My dad had some in the fridge. He wasn't an alcoholic or anything. But I snuck one once, liked how it made me feel, so I kept sneaking them."

"He didn't notice his beer was going missing?"

"Oh he did. The first couple times he let it slide. But then he confronted me about it. I tried to lie, and he beat my ass."

She frowns. "I'm sorry."

I wave my hand. "I was starting to get my ass beat a lot around then, so not like it really mattered. It was just another thing for me to fuck up."

"Which made you want to drink more."

I take a long drag. "Yup."

"When did it become a problem?"

Now I laugh. "When was it not a problem?"

I finish my cigarette, toss it into the coffee can we use down here, and immediately light another.

"So you were hooked immediately?"

"Of course. If I wasn't drunk, I was at school. If I wasn't at school, I was in my room playing my guitar or viola. If I wasn't doing that, I was drunk. Hell, Senior year I was going to school buzzed in the morning."

"Jesus..."

"Yup, I know. See?" I take another long drag and tilt my head back, looking at the ceiling. "Told you, I was a fuck up."

"You're not a fuck up. You were coping with a difficult situation you couldn't escape from. You didn't have the proper life tools to deal with it."

I sigh and rub my eyes. "Yeah, I know. So they tell me."

"Who?"

"My therapists and shit."

"Well, it's true."

"I guess."

For a long while we don't say anything. I just look at the ceiling and she just looks at me.

"So why are we here, Orion?"

"Because I need a distraction."

"Why?"

I finally don't feel like crying, for once.

"Because I'm being stalked and I want to hide away in alcohol. Because I'm scared. Because if I don't drink then I'm going to want to do this."

I pull up my sleeve for her, but I still don't look at her. I hear her take in a sharp hiss of a breath, but I continue before she can comment on what she just learned.

"Because pain is a good distraction if I can't numb it with alcohol. And I wanna do all that because I feel dead in my head, but my chest is a tight knot because my anxiety is going crazy."

I finally look at her. Then my eyes immediately drop down and I gnaw on my lip. I start my third cigarette, her eyes boring holes into my soul.

"So, I'm sorry I've dragged you away from your family. I've already seen my therapist, I don't wanna freak out my boyfriend, but I'm taking this whole sobriety thing seriously, so...Here we are."

"Here we are," she agrees in a whisper.

I go back to staring at the ceiling.

"May I hug you?"

I flick my eyes at her for a second. She looks like she might burst into tears. I look back at the ceiling and shrug. "Sure."

The hug she gives me is, I must admit, one of the best hugs I've ever had in my entire life.