What Was Left Unsaid: Shell Shocked
What Was Left Unsaid Chapter Index
Main characters and pairings featured in this chapter: Craig, Joey, Caitlin, Snake aka Mr. Simpson. Joey/Caitlin.
Brief summary of this chapter: This chapter picks up right where Chapter 18 left off. Craig's reactions are appropriately complex.
19. Shell Shocked
Even though he heard Joey’s voice on the phone, he couldn’t help but feel separated from the rest of the world. As he pulled back the curtain and peered out to look over the dark neighborhood, he wondered about the reality of it all. Craig could see the yellow glow of the neighbor’s upstairs bedroom. His eyes shifted to the house next door; they always kept their blinds down. Weren’t they aware of what was happening? Was this all just happening to him?
“Just stay calm,” Joey kept repeating. “The police will be there soon. I’ll be there soon.”
Craig couldn’t reply to Joey anymore. He just kept doing that panicky breathing. His head was starting to feel lighter. He didn’t think it was possible to drift away anymore. He curled his fist tight and felt comfort in feeling his nails dig into the palm of his hand. He could feel that he was still here. Craig wondered what happened to those people who totally checked themselves out of reality. If that was an option for him right now, would he take it? Does a person even get to choose that kind of thing?
He looked around his darkened bedroom, suddenly feeling the urge to hide. Things were feeling dangerous again. It was that feeling of danger that had encouraged him to turn off his bedside lamp so his father couldn’t find him. He always did that strange childlike rationalizing when it came to his dad. It was like when he was little and refused to sleep with his feet close to the end of the bed because the monster could reach out and cut them off. But this was real and it was happening.
“What’s happening now, Craig?” Joey repeated. His stepson had become alarmingly quiet. What was going on in that house?
“What’s happening now?” Craig echoed back.
“Are you still in your bedroom?” Joey asked again after a moment of silence. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and stared at the red street light. So close.
Craig’s eyes darted around the room, taking in the dense dark shapes. He remembered now. It wasn’t like it used to be; books were missing from the shelves, his rock posters weren’t on the walls, and he knew the closet would be nearly empty. But it was his desk, bed, and other furniture. He ran his hand across the bedspread as he sank down to the floor. He could remember that texture, that smell. Something familiar was here.
“Yeah, it’s my bedroom,” Craig confirmed.
It was then that he felt something sharp poke into his brain. He remembered the burn of the fabric as he was pushed onto the bed and then there was the sting of that belt. Craig found himself dragging his fingernails across his arms again. He didn’t need a reminder of that now. Because then he would have to try to place when and why that happened and would it happen again. He realized he seemed much smaller in that memory, then again he was beginning to shrink some now. He wasn’t sure if he was shrinking away from the situation and going inside his head (all this was much too intense) or if his body really was that small. Why did he feel so childlike all of a sudden? Craig squeezed his eyes shut, trying to chase it all away. When his eyes were open he saw the flashing red and it made his breath freeze in his throat. It was the same red that would flash through his mind as he was struck. Angry red. The red that warns. He closed his eyes again and tried to tell himself that the black of his eyelids was all the comfort he needed right now. Not there, not there…not there at all.
“That’s the lights from the police cars,” Joey tried to explain after he listened to Craig ramble on for a minute or so, sometimes his voice faded away and he assumed his stepson had set the phone down. He tried to follow his stepson’s fragmented dialogue the best he could. The situation was surreal and he couldn’t imagine how it was for Craig.
“Craig, I’m outside with the police right now,” Joey reassured into the cell phone. “But I want you to stay right where you are, okay? They will come get you.”
“No. I want to come outside now,” Craig stated sharply. He wanted to move. He told himself to stand but he couldn’t do it.
“Stay right where you are,” Joey compassionately ordered at the urge of the police officer that stood next to him.
“No. I’m scared,” Craig quickly replied. He wasn’t even sure what he was refusing. He heard movement downstairs now. His breathing picked up.
“Someone is coming to get you right now. Stay right where you are,” Joey reminded and listened to Craig breathe sharp and rapid, and it came over the line like Morse code. He told himself not panic and tried to keep his tone calm as he repeatedly reassured him what was probably happening in the Manning house. “Someone is coming to get you right now.”
Craig couldn’t fully process that. It was like a concrete wall was in his brain. What was going on? He watched as white hot light cut through the darkness. It stung just as shrill as waking from his worst hangover to bright morning sunlight. It took him a moment but then Craig saw him. Not his father, his brain first stated. He was crazy to think that it would be. His dad…Craig’s brain refused to let him finish that thought. Instead it took in the man’s police uniform, the golden badge on his chest. He was comforted by his presence but also strangely disturbed; he never imagined a police officer would be in his home. That just wasn’t something that was supposed to happen.
He wasn’t all too aware of the police officer helping him to his feet. The man’s touch seemed foreign and everything else surreal. Something was different about the hallway walls and the staircase seemed to descend forever. Craig thought for sure he would fall, but the man next to him kept urging him on. He blinked at the brightly lit downstairs. It was strange how earlier, while he had that last conversation with his father, it was like they weren’t even at home at all. They were in some other world, just stuck. There was nothing, just them.
Joey watched as a police officer led Craig out of the house. He waited a moment before going for him and took that moment to assess Craig; his posture was tense and something in his face said that he wasn’t all there. Joey went right for him. “Are you okay?” he asked Craig, gripping the boy’s arms.
“What’s going on?” Craig asked, frantic. “He’s okay right?”
“Did he hurt you?” Joey couldn’t help but ask in a demanding fashion. What kind of father did this to their son?
Craig could only shake his head and was barely able to pick up on the look of disbelief on their faces. It was difficult to focus. This couldn’t be happening, he kept hearing in his head.
“Craig, can you come with us over to the ambulance so we can check you out?” the officer asked.
“What? Why?” Craig asked and felt himself moving again. The cop was on one side of him and Joey was on the other. Each had a gentle grip on his arm.
“We just want to know if you are okay,” the officer reassured.
“I’m not okay?” Craig wondered a loud as they urged him with their hands to sit on a gurney.
“Come on, it’s okay,” Joey soothed.
Craig glanced around and felt his head grow lighter. There was nothing more surreal than the bright lights of the police and ambulance vehicles at night. Nothing was about this was natural. It wasn’t supposed to be happening, it was as simple as that.
“We’re just going to make sure you are okay,” the ambulance attendant assured as he took a quick assessment of the teenager.
“I don’t understand. What’s wrong with me?” Craig pleaded to Joey.
“Shhh, it’s okay.”
“I’m just going to check out your vitals,” the attendant assured.
“I have no idea what’s happening right now,” Craig muttered. He felt Joey’s hand on his shoulder, rubbing it gently.
“He’s showing no signs of a head injury,” the ambulance technician stated to Joey and the police officer.
“I have no idea what’s going on!” Craig exclaimed. “Did I hit my head and I’m imaging everything?”
Craig felt his eyes well up with tears as he realized that the officer, ambulance attendant, and Joey were basically ignoring him. He was here, but not really. At least he knew he was here enough for them to care about his body. It wasn’t a dream if he had a body. He could feel their touch, it was subtle and gentle but he knew it was there.
“What’s the typical patterns in the abuse?”
“Hitting with a belt. I also remember seeing huge bruises on his stomach,” Joey replied, still rubbing Craig’s shoulder.
“Okay, let’s just raise your shirt a little bit, kiddo.”
Craig flinched at the sensation of his shirt being raised. He could feel their eyes on him and he felt himself sink a little into himself from the shame. There was that feeling again. He knew it all too well from when it was first found out he was being hit and that visit with his social worker to confirm that yes, it had happened again and it wasn‘t safe for him to around Dad. “This is too much right now,” he mumbled to Joey.
“Just relax.”
“I don’t understand,” Craig mumbled as he felt them pulling at his shirt sleeves. They were still searching and trying to understand what happened that night. They were searching him. Craig tried to ignore that thought and the beating of his frantic heart.
Craig looked down at his arms once he felt their hesitancy. His arms looked like they had been clawed by some animal. He saw the angry red streaks on his pale skin and occasionally he saw that the skin had been broken. He had to wonder for a moment.
“I think I did that,” Craig said and his words came out as more of a question. He had to explain. “I think I was scared. Please just listen to me. He didn’t hurt me.”
“Can I take him home? I don’t want to traumatize him even more,” Joey finally stated.
Craig was finally able to breathe as he saw the police officer nod. “My dad. Is he okay?”
“Let’s take you home,” the police officer said, avoiding the boy’s question.
“Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?” Craig pleaded.
“We’ll talk at home, okay?” The officer reassured.
Joey nodded at the officer and they both helped Craig to his feet. “I’m taking you home. My car is right over there,” Joey explained to Craig with a small reassuring smile. It was hard to muster that optimism. He felt somewhat calmer the further they got from Albert Manning’s home. Something was in the air and he tried not to think about it. It was just panic, he told himself.
Craig watched as his stepfather opened the passenger side door. He didn’t resist letting Joey help him into the car. He wanted to help, go ahead and let him. Maybe his step dad needed to feel in control of all this too and that was one way of getting it, Craig figured. He didn’t mind the attention. He never had that control. This night went horribly wrong. “I was stupid to think…” Craig mumbled.
Joey simply gave Craig’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before closing the car door. He nodded at the police officer, quickly thanked him, and confirmed his address. They were going to have to talk. Joey took a deep breath and went to get into the car. He glanced over at Craig twice; once was while starting the car and the other when he was shifting gears.
Craig wasn’t aware. He was only interested in what was outside of the car. He twisted his head around to look at his childhood home as they drove away. It was like it was under a spotlight. He’d never seen it so bright before. It gave Craig some kind of hope. Like that meant there was still something, maybe life, burning inside of it. He could even see the glow as they turned the corner, Craig swore. But then it started to fade and he felt his heart sinking again. He turned around and looked at the city streets. They all looked the same. Craig pressed his hand against the passenger side window and strained to focus. He really had no idea where he was anymore.
He felt something shift. It took him a moment to realize the car door had opened. Things seemed so slow in his mind; he could feel the noises of the car was the engine died out, then the strange slow snap of the door opening, and he watched the residue of his hand print fade out of viewpoint.
“Joey?” Craig questioned as he felt someone encouraging him to stand, to walk.
“We’re at home, buddy,” Joey explained and tried to suppress the panic that was burping up inside of him. Who was this kid?
“Oh, we’re at home,” Craig verbally acknowledged and watched as the backdoor became closer and closer to him. Then it opened and he knew the woman standing there. “I need to come back to myself,” Craig muttered.
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“I’m not tired,” Craig muttered as he laid down in bed at Joey’s request. He didn’t think he’d ever sleep again. There were a number of reasons but right now the most prominent one was that he had to be able to keep watch. He didn’t know what he was looking out for, but he knew he had to be awake and aware at all times.
“Just try to sleep, okay?” Joey said softly, rubbing the boy’s shoulders.
“Don’t turn out the lights,” Craig demanded and tried to sit up. His stepfather’s grip was too firm and he was forced to stiffly lay back down.
“How about if I leave the hall light on and turn out the lights in here?”
“No.”
“Let’s just try it,” Joey soothed as he turned off the ceiling light and then the lamp beside Craig’s bed.
“Stay here,” Craig insisted and swallowed hard. His muscles were so tense that they ached.
“I’m right here,” Joey said and sat down at the foot of the bed.
Craig was silent for a few minutes. He simply alternated his gaze between the warm yellow light seeping in from the bedroom door that was a jar and his stepfather’s silhouette. When he kept his eyes on Joey long enough, his facial features would come into focus. Joey seemed especially watchful.
“Stay here all night so he doesn’t come back,” Craig demanded and didn’t care how crazy he sounded at the moment. Joey didn’t get it, he wasn’t there, Craig’s frantic brain reminded him.
“He’s not here, buddy,” Joey said and ignored the pounding of his heart. He had never seen Craig like this.
“No, you don’t understand. Now he’s got even more power. Because he’s not here anymore. So then he’s everywhere.”
“No, Craig, he’s not here,” Joey reassured with a nervous smile. He didn’t know the right thing to say or do. What would give Craig comfort? Should he distract him with happy memories? He wondered if Craig could remember anything from the past, his stepson seemed stuck in the moment or else all over the place. Joey racked his brain for something to say, any kind of story. “Remember the day Angela was born? I remember the first time you laid eyes on her…”
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“He’s still asleep,” Joey said as he flicked off the hall light and quietly closed the bedroom door.
Caitlin set her book on the nightstand table and watched as Joey tossed his bathrobe onto the bed and crawl in. “That’s good,” she finally managed to say.
“He’s really out of it,” Joey reflected
Caitlin heard the exhaustion in his voice. She felt it too. She’d been there with him through all of Craig’s mood swings. She had watched Craig enter the house, blink and look around and look clueless as if this was the first time he had been in the house. She was the one to make him the tea, place it in his shaky hands, and drink none of it as they waited for the police officer to arrive and confirm what they all feared.
“It’s like he understands what has happened, but just can’t process it,” Joey said and stared up at the ceiling. He recalled as Craig seemed numb to the police officer’s questions. He held his breath each time the officer repeated a question. He knew why this was done, to verify the exact order of events and to make sure Craig’s story stayed the same each time, but he was certain Craig was bound of have some response to going over the events again and again. But his stepson never did. He just sat there clutching his cup of tea and staring down into it, almost like he was looking into some crystal ball and that was what was telling him what to say. Sometimes Craig’s forehead scrunched up and his expression looked like the memory recall was a painful act, like it was some splinter of wood stuck in his mind and they were removing it ever so slowly and letting the reality of what had happened spill out. He knew they were hurting him by confirming his worst fears.
Joey had found it hard to first meet Craig’s gaze as he and the police officer entered the living room. He could tell from Craig’s eyes that he knew what they had just discussed. He didn’t know how Craig was going to react to the news, even though he knew a part of Craig acknowledged what had happened. He shifted his gaze from Craig to Caitlin, who sat beside him on the couch.
“Just tell me,” Craig pleaded as he stood up. “I know what happened. Just tell me.”
The officer and Joey approached him. “Sit down and we’ll talk.”
“Just tell me.”
“Honey, come on and sit down,” Caitlin tried and was warm towards Craig despite the aggression she sensed was building in the teen. She gently touched his arm.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me right now,” Craig muttered, pulling away from Caitlin. He started for the door. “I need to fix this. I need to go.”
“No. Stay here,” Joey said firmly.
Craig felt hands on his shoulders now. “Don’t touch me right now.”
“Calm down,” the police officer encouraged as he gripped the teenager.
Craig could only shake his head in response and gave one satisfying jerk away from the cop.
“I know you are upset,” Joey tried to soothe as he put his hands under the boy’s elbows. He watched Craig shake his head again.
“You said you heard a gunshot?” the police officer asked.
“Yeah,” Craig whispered and knew he wasn‘t ready for this.
“I don’t know how to prepare you for this,” the officer said slowly. “Your father killed himself.”
“I know. I know,” Craig mumbled as the room began to fade away. Joey and the officer quickly grabbed the teenager before he could hit the floor and eased him onto the living room couch.
“It’s going to be a rough next couple of days,” Joey said as Caitlin flicked out the lamp by their bedside. The darkness didn’t bring him any closer to sleep.
“He’s just going to need time,” Caitlin said, trying to feel stronger than she felt in this situation. She could tell Joey was scared. “I’ll stay with him tomorrow morning. We can work something out. We’ll get through this.”
Joey nodded rapidly. “That sounds like a good plan. He needs people with him.”
“And we’ll get him through this.”
“I’ve never seen him like this before.”
“He’s just in shock,” Caitlin reassured. She knew that there was a part of Joey that worried if Craig would ever be the same after this. She could only try to alleviate his worries even though it was upsetting to watch Craig drift in and out of awareness. He seemed like a shell of himself at some times and other like a young boy. After the police officer left, they sat there on the living room couch with Craig.
“You are okay, honey,” Caitlin soothed as she watched Craig jerk and open his eyes wide.
“What?” Craig muttered, lifting his head up off Joey’s chest. He glanced around and tried to remember how he got to this moment. Caitlin was sitting close beside him on the living room couch, her hand coiled around his. He was curled up beside his stepfather. Joey had an arm firmly wrapped under Craig as he held him.
“You fainted earlier,” Caitlin reminded.
“What’s happening?”
“We’re just sitting here with you, kiddo,” Joey explained.
“Where’s the police officer?”
“He left about an hour ago.”
“What’s been happening since then? Was I asleep the whole time?”
“We woke you up right after you fainted. Caitlin and I have been sitting here with you since then.”
“No. I don’t remember.”
“We’re just talking,” Caitlin explained.
“I don’t remember,” Craig repeated and they heard his voice crack with emotion. They watched as his eyes darted around the room, like he was searching for something. “What is going on? What’s happening?”
Craig wasn’t all there and they tried to be okay with that, although it was alarming to have to remind him of what had just happened. They tried to embrace him and give him some kind of support and she could feel the urgency in the teenager’s grasp. It was like he felt they were the last two people on Earth that he had and Caitlin knew that in a way they were.
“How are you feeling about what just happened?” Caitlin asked and looked over at Joey. Suddenly she was hit with her own doubts. It was up to them to get Craig through this…and the rest of his life.
“I’m worried about Craig,” Joey said without hesitation.
She couldn‘t talk about the fact they were officially his parents now. Maybe they didn‘t need to. It was what they had to do. “No…I mean, Albert.”
“Why would I have any kind of reaction to that?” Joey questioned, his tone full of disbelief and the slight hint of anger, but he wasn‘t sure where that was coming from. “Albert Manning and I weren’t exactly best buddies.”
“Understandable,” Caitlin quickly agreed. “It’s still pretty surreal. Came right out of left field.”
“We knew he had problems. I just don’t think anyone knew how bad they were,” Joey said and rolled away from Caitlin. He stared at the wall and tried to keep his mind from going there and imaging ways he could have intervened; he would have done anything to prevent this if it meant saving Craig from pain.
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Joey’s first reaction to the crying was that it was part of a dream. Craig was in his thoughts so frequently that it only made sense that he was in the dream too. It was so soft, just background noise to the events of the night replaying in his mind.
“Joey,” Caitlin whispered, shaking him. She watched his eyes fly open.
“Oh my God,” Joey whispered and hastily pulled the blankets off of him and jumped out of bed.
Instinctively, he went for Craig’s room. He found the bed empty and the sheets rumpled from Craig’s restless sleep. Joey could have sworn the crying was closer a moment ago, where was Craig? He started for the stairs when he saw Angie’s door open ever so slightly and he could see her wide chestnut eyes peeking out from the darkness. He turned and went for her bedroom.
“I’m scared,” she whispered as he slowly opened the door and watch his daughter retreat into the darkness of her room some. He felt Caitlin’s night gown brush up against him.
“It’s okay, honey. Craig just had a nightmare. That’s all it is,” Caitlin soothed and went for the child. As she handed a stuffed animal to Angela she said, “I’ll take care of her. Go be with Craig.”
Joey gave a rapid nod and as he exited the room, he heard Angie voice her concern, “Was he dreaming about the dinosaur again? Do you remember that one who would hurt him? Is that what happened now?”
It was something in those words that gave Joey the chills. He continued moving though and found Craig standing in the middle of the living room, looking around like he was lost in his own house. Joey flashed back to a moment when he had lost Angela in a department store. He and Julia were looking at a washer and dryer set and having a low key argument about what would work better; front loading washers produced cleaner clothes and used less water, she had argued. Angie was bored by this and had wandered off. He remembered those frantic moments of trying to find her, silently berating himself all the while. They found her in the juniors clothing department, ducking in and out of clothing racks. She had a smile on her face, not feeling lost at all.
Craig was lost, here in his own house, it seemed. He could see his stepson’s wet face and the terror in his eyes. Joey slowly approached his stepson and reached out to touch him.
“You’re here,” Craig said, stating each word between a gasp for air. “I thought you left. I thought you were like him.”
“What do you mean?” Joey questioned and swallowed hard. This moment took him back to those shaky first few months when Craig moved in and would wake up anxious from nightmares.
“It was dark. Like how it was at his house tonight,” Craig observed and began to move towards the kitchen. He flicked on the light switch and felt comfort in the light washing over the room. Things were still here. He was still here. Joey was still here. “I thought maybe you killed yourself.”
Joey stopped dead in the doorway that separated the kitchen and the living room. His mouth opened but he couldn’t find the words to respond. He watched as Craig passed him, clearly on a mission, and turned on the remainder of the lights in the living room.
“I’m right here, Craig. I’m not going anywhere,” he finally reassured.
Craig nodded for a few moments and surveyed the room. He felt better now with the lights on. That strange surreal danger was gone now. He had felt that at his father’s when he was trying to talk him down in their dark house. He didn’t like feeling that here at Joey’s. Joey’s was supposed to be safe.
Craig wiped his face. It was wet. He had been crying. But it wasn’t the normal kind of crying where you felt it build up and they exited in sobs. Now it was just happening. The tears were just flowing out of him involuntary. He couldn’t control what he was saying either, for the most part. What was happening to him? He got himself to stop nodding. “This feels better now.”
“Okay,” Joey said and moved towards his stepson. “If this is what makes you feel better, that’s fine. If this is what makes you feel safe, that’s fine. Can you try to get some sleep now?”
“Maybe…if the lights are on,” Craig replied as he stepfather led him up the stairs. He could feel his arm around him. “If the lights are on we can still keep watch.”
“Sure, buddy, whatever helps,” Joey soothed and flicked on the hall light. He paused by Angela’s room to close the door all the way. Angie only needed her night light and he was certain she would find this bothersome.
“Wait, what are you doing?” Craig demanded. Joey heard the panic in his stepson’s voice again.
“Angie doesn’t like the light shining into her room. She’s got her night light, remember?”
“No. I don’t like that. I don’t know if…”
“Craig, she’s going to be fine. I’ll check on her throughout the night, alright?” Joey said and continued to steer Craig into his bedroom. “Come on and try to get some rest. Things are going to seem better in the morning.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Craig replied as he stiffly laid down in bed. He could see the worry in Joey’s eyes and knew that he knew this as well. “I don’t know if anything is ever going to be the same again.”
“Let’s just take it one day at a time. One hour at a time. And right now you need to try to get some rest.”
“Did it really happen? Did he really do it?” Craig questioned. Suddenly everything seemed unclear. Maybe he did just go crazy and dream it all up. It was something he would do. He started to sit up. “I need to go make sure. I just called him. I got his voicemail. It sounded like he was there. I need to go call again. Maybe he‘ll pick up. I need to go make sure.”
Joey gripped Craig’s shoulders and gently began to ease him back down into bed. “You don’t have to make sure of anything. You don’t need to worry about anything. I’ll take care of things. Just try to sleep.”
Joey could feel Craig still resisting him. He found himself talking, mainly just to talk. It seemed like hearing his voice relaxed his stepson some. He rubbed Craig’s shoulders and arms, occasionally tightening his grip when Craig insisted he had to make sure and tried to get up. He continued to reassure him with stories of his childhood and the fact that he was here and he wasn’t going anywhere. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere,” Joey continued to interject in-between stories of Craig’s childhood; family vacations to water parks, baseball fields, and GI Joes.
“I feel like I’ve been in a war,” Craig mumbled as he felt his heart disappear from his chest and the blackness of sleep slip over him.
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Time wasn’t making any sense. Events seemed to fade into one another. Craig knew that he wasn’t sleeping and maybe that had something to do with it. Sleeping helped to create blocks of time and that wasn’t happening. Things felt like they kept happening over and over. He wasn’t sure how many times he’d have that conversation with Joey and Caitlin about why it had to happen. Visitors came and went. His closest friends flowed into the room and out. Most of the time he was aware he was speaking to them, although it seemed hard to control what he would say. He knew this situation was scaring them, that he was scaring them. He barely felt the awkwardness of Mr. Simpson visiting. It was Joey’s friend, he’d seen him in his living room before.
He just gave his media immersion teacher a nod, sank down onto the living room couch, and stared blankly at the TV screen.
“Do you want some tea? I can get you some tea,” Caitlin offered and started to cross over to the kitchen. She paused and waited for Craig to respond.
“Sure,” Craig said to humor her. This was what Caitlin had been doing for the past few days. She brought him tea or chicken noodle soup like he was home from school because he was sick with the flu.
“Do you mind if we talk?” Simpson cautiously asked and shifted his glance from Craig to Joey.
Craig looked over, curious. “Uh, okay.”
“I’m going to go help Caitlin out with the tea,” Joey declared.
Craig felt the couch cushions shift as Simpson sat down next to him. Craig couldn’t help but dart his eyes around nervously. What was this about?
“I’m not going to pretend that I have any idea what it’s like for you. But I do want you to know that you aren’t alone in this. We’re here to support you. And you aren’t the first person to lose someone to suicide. There’s others out there that can relate to you,” Simpson paused for a few moments and then continued. “When I was a senior in high school, a kid committed suicide in the boys washroom. I was the one to find him.”
Craig looked over at his teacher in shock. He wasn’t expecting that. He was expecting the same words of comfort everyone else had offered. “How did he do it?”
“He shot himself.”
“Like my…” was the only thing Craig could say. He glanced over and saw Simpson nod. Of course he knew. “Were you okay afterwards?”
“It was a very difficult thing to deal with. I had nightmares and a lot of questions that no one had the answers to.”
“Was he your friend?”
“No, but I knew him. I had seen him in the school halls before.”
“So you probably didn’t wonder about how you could have done things differently then huh? I did everything wrong that night. What I should have done is called the cops the moment he threatened it. I didn‘t know,” Craig said and rubbed at his sore eyes.
“You did everything the only way you knew how. You can’t blame yourself for this, you just can’t. It will consume you,” Simpson said and reached for his bag. He pulled out several books and set them on the coffee table. He watched as Craig curiously looked them over.
“Self help books for suicide survivors. That sounds like fun. Going to pick up some horror movies too? Cause I don’t have enough blood in my nightmares yet. I need some more,” Craig couldn’t help but snap. The anger was back again.
“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to read them. You might not be ready. I thought I’d offer and let you know that I‘m here for support. A couple of them are mine, so you can hang onto them for as long as you want. The other is Ms. Sauvé’s. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you kept them for awhile.”
Craig sighed and closed his eyes. “Everyone is treating this like…it’s something that there’s a manual for. That all my reactions are normal. They aren’t normal to me. I don’t feel like myself anymore,” Craig said and opened his eyes.
Simpson smiled warmly, “I think we all would like a copy of that manual to life. But there isn’t one. So you’ve got our support while you get through this.”
“They’ve got me on more meds,” Craig said. “I swear, it’s Joey’s first reaction to everything. Get Craig talking to someone else because he doesn't know what to do. Like it helps at all. Well, some of the pills do but I knew that already. But they don’t even really do anything right now.”
He watched as Simpson nodded, but looked slightly confused. His friends had simply nodded when he told them he didn’t have to dig into his private stash anymore because they were actually prescribing Xanax for him. Ashley was the only one who had the guts to say that it was good that he was getting a physician’s advice. But she didn’t respond when Craig said that he knew what was best all along. They kept doing that, just letting him talk but not really having a conversation with him. Craig was beginning to wonder if he was human. At least he was human enough to show restraint and kept from going into detail with his teacher about those little blue pills.
“It sounds like you have been experiencing some anxiety, they just want to help make this situation easier on you,” Simpson chose to say. Buddy Jeremiah had already spilled this information to him the other night on the phone. Craig was the only thing they talked about and he had a feeling the only thing Joey thought about lately.
Craig swallowed hard and glanced out the window at the darkening sky. “I hate nighttime now,” he griped. He was feeling that urge again. He knew the upstairs was unoccupied and dark and that made him uneasy. He got to his feet and the moment he started moving, Caitlin and Joey were in the room.
“What’s up, buddy?” Joey asked.
Craig paused and fidgeted some. He couldn’t explain it. He was doing it for them. He had to keep them safe. “Um, I just…I’ll be right back,” He said and went for the stairs.
Simpson shot a look of confusion over at his friends.
"Craig wants all the lights on in the house when it starts to get dark. And I mean every light. He wants us to keep our bedroom doors open and the lights on," Joey explained. They sent Angie to grandma’s after the first night post suicide out of fear that Craig’s moods would frighten her.
"It happened at night right? The suicide?"
"Yeah. Craig said that when he got to the house, all the lights were off. I know that’s why he’s doing this, wanting all the lights on at, say, 1 am. There’s not a lot of sleeping happening at Casa Jeremiah,“ Joey said and noticed that his tone was irritable. He cleared his throat in an attempt to lighten his tone. "I'm sorry, I probably sound like I'm complaining. And maybe I am. I'm just...tired. And I feel helpless. I don't know what to do for him."
"I understand. This is probably the hardest time he'll have."
Joey nodded and stared blankly off for a moment. "One night he came into my bedroom and was crying about how I was going to kill myself. I don’t know what to do for him.”
“It’s going to change him. But he will be okay,” Simpson said and stopped once he heard Craig on the stairs. He just let his look be response enough. He had already tried to reassure Joey that Craig would be fine. Craig was grieving and stressed out; that was why he seemed all over the place with his fragmented thoughts. Joey had only once quietly revealed that he feared Craig would try suicide again (but kept the details to himself; he could imagine Craig deciding he didn’t want to be in a world without his parents) and Simpson had quickly replied that Craig didn’t have some suicide gene.
“He will be okay,” Simpson repeated and watched as the teen descended the steps.
Craig suspiciously eyed the adults in his living room. They all hadn’t moved from the spot he’d left them in. He could just imagine the hushed discussion that had just taken place. They all thought he was nuts, he could tell. He watched as they all shifted their eyes away. Caitlin headed to the kitchen, declaring she’d get the tea, and his stepfather and his friend sat down on the couch. Craig started for an armchair and then paused.
“Can I ask you something?” Craig said and looked at his teacher.
“Ask away.”
“That guy...the guy you found who shot himself...what did he look like?”
Caitlin was startled by the question and nearly dropped the tray as she was setting it on the coffee table. Craig barely glanced at it as the coffee cups rattled, his gaze was fixed on Simpson.
“I don’t think you should be thinking about that,” Simpson said after hesitation.
“No,” Craig said and gazed off for a moment. Craig had to ask. None of this seemed real. He still wasn‘t convinced his dad was really gone. “It’s not fair. I want to know and I can’t know.”
“That’s really not an important detail.”
“I’ll just go look it up on the internet if you won’t tell me.”
“What in the world do you think you are going to find on the internet?” Joey blurted out, shocked by the possibilities of what was rolling around in Craig’s head at the moment.
“What can’t you find on the internet?” Craig muttered, irritated.
“It’s a violent way to die, Craig,” Simpson interjected.
“I’m tired of wondering! Everything after that one moment is totally left up to my imagination and it’s driving me crazy!”
“How about if you told us what you saw? Tell us about that night.”
Craig felt like his mind had suddenly come to a halt. The conversation felt real now. He pressed his fingers to his lips for a moment and he could feel the adults watching his movements. They knew that was very telling body language, that it was his way of trying to get himself to stop. He lowered them and apologized, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m talking about this.”
“It’s alright, Craig,” Simpson reassured. “You are just grieving.”
Craig looked away from his teacher for a moment and wondered if it was alright to ask this. Then he said it, “Will you come to the visitation tomorrow night?”
He watched his teacher smile warmly. “I’m there. We’re all here for you. You aren’t going through this alone.”
Main characters and pairings featured in this chapter: Craig, Joey, Caitlin, Snake aka Mr. Simpson. Joey/Caitlin.
Brief summary of this chapter: This chapter picks up right where Chapter 18 left off. Craig's reactions are appropriately complex.
19. Shell Shocked
Even though he heard Joey’s voice on the phone, he couldn’t help but feel separated from the rest of the world. As he pulled back the curtain and peered out to look over the dark neighborhood, he wondered about the reality of it all. Craig could see the yellow glow of the neighbor’s upstairs bedroom. His eyes shifted to the house next door; they always kept their blinds down. Weren’t they aware of what was happening? Was this all just happening to him?
“Just stay calm,” Joey kept repeating. “The police will be there soon. I’ll be there soon.”
Craig couldn’t reply to Joey anymore. He just kept doing that panicky breathing. His head was starting to feel lighter. He didn’t think it was possible to drift away anymore. He curled his fist tight and felt comfort in feeling his nails dig into the palm of his hand. He could feel that he was still here. Craig wondered what happened to those people who totally checked themselves out of reality. If that was an option for him right now, would he take it? Does a person even get to choose that kind of thing?
He looked around his darkened bedroom, suddenly feeling the urge to hide. Things were feeling dangerous again. It was that feeling of danger that had encouraged him to turn off his bedside lamp so his father couldn’t find him. He always did that strange childlike rationalizing when it came to his dad. It was like when he was little and refused to sleep with his feet close to the end of the bed because the monster could reach out and cut them off. But this was real and it was happening.
“What’s happening now, Craig?” Joey repeated. His stepson had become alarmingly quiet. What was going on in that house?
“What’s happening now?” Craig echoed back.
“Are you still in your bedroom?” Joey asked again after a moment of silence. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and stared at the red street light. So close.
Craig’s eyes darted around the room, taking in the dense dark shapes. He remembered now. It wasn’t like it used to be; books were missing from the shelves, his rock posters weren’t on the walls, and he knew the closet would be nearly empty. But it was his desk, bed, and other furniture. He ran his hand across the bedspread as he sank down to the floor. He could remember that texture, that smell. Something familiar was here.
“Yeah, it’s my bedroom,” Craig confirmed.
It was then that he felt something sharp poke into his brain. He remembered the burn of the fabric as he was pushed onto the bed and then there was the sting of that belt. Craig found himself dragging his fingernails across his arms again. He didn’t need a reminder of that now. Because then he would have to try to place when and why that happened and would it happen again. He realized he seemed much smaller in that memory, then again he was beginning to shrink some now. He wasn’t sure if he was shrinking away from the situation and going inside his head (all this was much too intense) or if his body really was that small. Why did he feel so childlike all of a sudden? Craig squeezed his eyes shut, trying to chase it all away. When his eyes were open he saw the flashing red and it made his breath freeze in his throat. It was the same red that would flash through his mind as he was struck. Angry red. The red that warns. He closed his eyes again and tried to tell himself that the black of his eyelids was all the comfort he needed right now. Not there, not there…not there at all.
“That’s the lights from the police cars,” Joey tried to explain after he listened to Craig ramble on for a minute or so, sometimes his voice faded away and he assumed his stepson had set the phone down. He tried to follow his stepson’s fragmented dialogue the best he could. The situation was surreal and he couldn’t imagine how it was for Craig.
“Craig, I’m outside with the police right now,” Joey reassured into the cell phone. “But I want you to stay right where you are, okay? They will come get you.”
“No. I want to come outside now,” Craig stated sharply. He wanted to move. He told himself to stand but he couldn’t do it.
“Stay right where you are,” Joey compassionately ordered at the urge of the police officer that stood next to him.
“No. I’m scared,” Craig quickly replied. He wasn’t even sure what he was refusing. He heard movement downstairs now. His breathing picked up.
“Someone is coming to get you right now. Stay right where you are,” Joey reminded and listened to Craig breathe sharp and rapid, and it came over the line like Morse code. He told himself not panic and tried to keep his tone calm as he repeatedly reassured him what was probably happening in the Manning house. “Someone is coming to get you right now.”
Craig couldn’t fully process that. It was like a concrete wall was in his brain. What was going on? He watched as white hot light cut through the darkness. It stung just as shrill as waking from his worst hangover to bright morning sunlight. It took him a moment but then Craig saw him. Not his father, his brain first stated. He was crazy to think that it would be. His dad…Craig’s brain refused to let him finish that thought. Instead it took in the man’s police uniform, the golden badge on his chest. He was comforted by his presence but also strangely disturbed; he never imagined a police officer would be in his home. That just wasn’t something that was supposed to happen.
He wasn’t all too aware of the police officer helping him to his feet. The man’s touch seemed foreign and everything else surreal. Something was different about the hallway walls and the staircase seemed to descend forever. Craig thought for sure he would fall, but the man next to him kept urging him on. He blinked at the brightly lit downstairs. It was strange how earlier, while he had that last conversation with his father, it was like they weren’t even at home at all. They were in some other world, just stuck. There was nothing, just them.
Joey watched as a police officer led Craig out of the house. He waited a moment before going for him and took that moment to assess Craig; his posture was tense and something in his face said that he wasn’t all there. Joey went right for him. “Are you okay?” he asked Craig, gripping the boy’s arms.
“What’s going on?” Craig asked, frantic. “He’s okay right?”
“Did he hurt you?” Joey couldn’t help but ask in a demanding fashion. What kind of father did this to their son?
Craig could only shake his head and was barely able to pick up on the look of disbelief on their faces. It was difficult to focus. This couldn’t be happening, he kept hearing in his head.
“Craig, can you come with us over to the ambulance so we can check you out?” the officer asked.
“What? Why?” Craig asked and felt himself moving again. The cop was on one side of him and Joey was on the other. Each had a gentle grip on his arm.
“We just want to know if you are okay,” the officer reassured.
“I’m not okay?” Craig wondered a loud as they urged him with their hands to sit on a gurney.
“Come on, it’s okay,” Joey soothed.
Craig glanced around and felt his head grow lighter. There was nothing more surreal than the bright lights of the police and ambulance vehicles at night. Nothing was about this was natural. It wasn’t supposed to be happening, it was as simple as that.
“We’re just going to make sure you are okay,” the ambulance attendant assured as he took a quick assessment of the teenager.
“I don’t understand. What’s wrong with me?” Craig pleaded to Joey.
“Shhh, it’s okay.”
“I’m just going to check out your vitals,” the attendant assured.
“I have no idea what’s happening right now,” Craig muttered. He felt Joey’s hand on his shoulder, rubbing it gently.
“He’s showing no signs of a head injury,” the ambulance technician stated to Joey and the police officer.
“I have no idea what’s going on!” Craig exclaimed. “Did I hit my head and I’m imaging everything?”
Craig felt his eyes well up with tears as he realized that the officer, ambulance attendant, and Joey were basically ignoring him. He was here, but not really. At least he knew he was here enough for them to care about his body. It wasn’t a dream if he had a body. He could feel their touch, it was subtle and gentle but he knew it was there.
“What’s the typical patterns in the abuse?”
“Hitting with a belt. I also remember seeing huge bruises on his stomach,” Joey replied, still rubbing Craig’s shoulder.
“Okay, let’s just raise your shirt a little bit, kiddo.”
Craig flinched at the sensation of his shirt being raised. He could feel their eyes on him and he felt himself sink a little into himself from the shame. There was that feeling again. He knew it all too well from when it was first found out he was being hit and that visit with his social worker to confirm that yes, it had happened again and it wasn‘t safe for him to around Dad. “This is too much right now,” he mumbled to Joey.
“Just relax.”
“I don’t understand,” Craig mumbled as he felt them pulling at his shirt sleeves. They were still searching and trying to understand what happened that night. They were searching him. Craig tried to ignore that thought and the beating of his frantic heart.
Craig looked down at his arms once he felt their hesitancy. His arms looked like they had been clawed by some animal. He saw the angry red streaks on his pale skin and occasionally he saw that the skin had been broken. He had to wonder for a moment.
“I think I did that,” Craig said and his words came out as more of a question. He had to explain. “I think I was scared. Please just listen to me. He didn’t hurt me.”
“Can I take him home? I don’t want to traumatize him even more,” Joey finally stated.
Craig was finally able to breathe as he saw the police officer nod. “My dad. Is he okay?”
“Let’s take you home,” the police officer said, avoiding the boy’s question.
“Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?” Craig pleaded.
“We’ll talk at home, okay?” The officer reassured.
Joey nodded at the officer and they both helped Craig to his feet. “I’m taking you home. My car is right over there,” Joey explained to Craig with a small reassuring smile. It was hard to muster that optimism. He felt somewhat calmer the further they got from Albert Manning’s home. Something was in the air and he tried not to think about it. It was just panic, he told himself.
Craig watched as his stepfather opened the passenger side door. He didn’t resist letting Joey help him into the car. He wanted to help, go ahead and let him. Maybe his step dad needed to feel in control of all this too and that was one way of getting it, Craig figured. He didn’t mind the attention. He never had that control. This night went horribly wrong. “I was stupid to think…” Craig mumbled.
Joey simply gave Craig’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze before closing the car door. He nodded at the police officer, quickly thanked him, and confirmed his address. They were going to have to talk. Joey took a deep breath and went to get into the car. He glanced over at Craig twice; once was while starting the car and the other when he was shifting gears.
Craig wasn’t aware. He was only interested in what was outside of the car. He twisted his head around to look at his childhood home as they drove away. It was like it was under a spotlight. He’d never seen it so bright before. It gave Craig some kind of hope. Like that meant there was still something, maybe life, burning inside of it. He could even see the glow as they turned the corner, Craig swore. But then it started to fade and he felt his heart sinking again. He turned around and looked at the city streets. They all looked the same. Craig pressed his hand against the passenger side window and strained to focus. He really had no idea where he was anymore.
He felt something shift. It took him a moment to realize the car door had opened. Things seemed so slow in his mind; he could feel the noises of the car was the engine died out, then the strange slow snap of the door opening, and he watched the residue of his hand print fade out of viewpoint.
“Joey?” Craig questioned as he felt someone encouraging him to stand, to walk.
“We’re at home, buddy,” Joey explained and tried to suppress the panic that was burping up inside of him. Who was this kid?
“Oh, we’re at home,” Craig verbally acknowledged and watched as the backdoor became closer and closer to him. Then it opened and he knew the woman standing there. “I need to come back to myself,” Craig muttered.
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“I’m not tired,” Craig muttered as he laid down in bed at Joey’s request. He didn’t think he’d ever sleep again. There were a number of reasons but right now the most prominent one was that he had to be able to keep watch. He didn’t know what he was looking out for, but he knew he had to be awake and aware at all times.
“Just try to sleep, okay?” Joey said softly, rubbing the boy’s shoulders.
“Don’t turn out the lights,” Craig demanded and tried to sit up. His stepfather’s grip was too firm and he was forced to stiffly lay back down.
“How about if I leave the hall light on and turn out the lights in here?”
“No.”
“Let’s just try it,” Joey soothed as he turned off the ceiling light and then the lamp beside Craig’s bed.
“Stay here,” Craig insisted and swallowed hard. His muscles were so tense that they ached.
“I’m right here,” Joey said and sat down at the foot of the bed.
Craig was silent for a few minutes. He simply alternated his gaze between the warm yellow light seeping in from the bedroom door that was a jar and his stepfather’s silhouette. When he kept his eyes on Joey long enough, his facial features would come into focus. Joey seemed especially watchful.
“Stay here all night so he doesn’t come back,” Craig demanded and didn’t care how crazy he sounded at the moment. Joey didn’t get it, he wasn’t there, Craig’s frantic brain reminded him.
“He’s not here, buddy,” Joey said and ignored the pounding of his heart. He had never seen Craig like this.
“No, you don’t understand. Now he’s got even more power. Because he’s not here anymore. So then he’s everywhere.”
“No, Craig, he’s not here,” Joey reassured with a nervous smile. He didn’t know the right thing to say or do. What would give Craig comfort? Should he distract him with happy memories? He wondered if Craig could remember anything from the past, his stepson seemed stuck in the moment or else all over the place. Joey racked his brain for something to say, any kind of story. “Remember the day Angela was born? I remember the first time you laid eyes on her…”
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“He’s still asleep,” Joey said as he flicked off the hall light and quietly closed the bedroom door.
Caitlin set her book on the nightstand table and watched as Joey tossed his bathrobe onto the bed and crawl in. “That’s good,” she finally managed to say.
“He’s really out of it,” Joey reflected
Caitlin heard the exhaustion in his voice. She felt it too. She’d been there with him through all of Craig’s mood swings. She had watched Craig enter the house, blink and look around and look clueless as if this was the first time he had been in the house. She was the one to make him the tea, place it in his shaky hands, and drink none of it as they waited for the police officer to arrive and confirm what they all feared.
“It’s like he understands what has happened, but just can’t process it,” Joey said and stared up at the ceiling. He recalled as Craig seemed numb to the police officer’s questions. He held his breath each time the officer repeated a question. He knew why this was done, to verify the exact order of events and to make sure Craig’s story stayed the same each time, but he was certain Craig was bound of have some response to going over the events again and again. But his stepson never did. He just sat there clutching his cup of tea and staring down into it, almost like he was looking into some crystal ball and that was what was telling him what to say. Sometimes Craig’s forehead scrunched up and his expression looked like the memory recall was a painful act, like it was some splinter of wood stuck in his mind and they were removing it ever so slowly and letting the reality of what had happened spill out. He knew they were hurting him by confirming his worst fears.
Joey had found it hard to first meet Craig’s gaze as he and the police officer entered the living room. He could tell from Craig’s eyes that he knew what they had just discussed. He didn’t know how Craig was going to react to the news, even though he knew a part of Craig acknowledged what had happened. He shifted his gaze from Craig to Caitlin, who sat beside him on the couch.
“Just tell me,” Craig pleaded as he stood up. “I know what happened. Just tell me.”
The officer and Joey approached him. “Sit down and we’ll talk.”
“Just tell me.”
“Honey, come on and sit down,” Caitlin tried and was warm towards Craig despite the aggression she sensed was building in the teen. She gently touched his arm.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me right now,” Craig muttered, pulling away from Caitlin. He started for the door. “I need to fix this. I need to go.”
“No. Stay here,” Joey said firmly.
Craig felt hands on his shoulders now. “Don’t touch me right now.”
“Calm down,” the police officer encouraged as he gripped the teenager.
Craig could only shake his head in response and gave one satisfying jerk away from the cop.
“I know you are upset,” Joey tried to soothe as he put his hands under the boy’s elbows. He watched Craig shake his head again.
“You said you heard a gunshot?” the police officer asked.
“Yeah,” Craig whispered and knew he wasn‘t ready for this.
“I don’t know how to prepare you for this,” the officer said slowly. “Your father killed himself.”
“I know. I know,” Craig mumbled as the room began to fade away. Joey and the officer quickly grabbed the teenager before he could hit the floor and eased him onto the living room couch.
“It’s going to be a rough next couple of days,” Joey said as Caitlin flicked out the lamp by their bedside. The darkness didn’t bring him any closer to sleep.
“He’s just going to need time,” Caitlin said, trying to feel stronger than she felt in this situation. She could tell Joey was scared. “I’ll stay with him tomorrow morning. We can work something out. We’ll get through this.”
Joey nodded rapidly. “That sounds like a good plan. He needs people with him.”
“And we’ll get him through this.”
“I’ve never seen him like this before.”
“He’s just in shock,” Caitlin reassured. She knew that there was a part of Joey that worried if Craig would ever be the same after this. She could only try to alleviate his worries even though it was upsetting to watch Craig drift in and out of awareness. He seemed like a shell of himself at some times and other like a young boy. After the police officer left, they sat there on the living room couch with Craig.
“You are okay, honey,” Caitlin soothed as she watched Craig jerk and open his eyes wide.
“What?” Craig muttered, lifting his head up off Joey’s chest. He glanced around and tried to remember how he got to this moment. Caitlin was sitting close beside him on the living room couch, her hand coiled around his. He was curled up beside his stepfather. Joey had an arm firmly wrapped under Craig as he held him.
“You fainted earlier,” Caitlin reminded.
“What’s happening?”
“We’re just sitting here with you, kiddo,” Joey explained.
“Where’s the police officer?”
“He left about an hour ago.”
“What’s been happening since then? Was I asleep the whole time?”
“We woke you up right after you fainted. Caitlin and I have been sitting here with you since then.”
“No. I don’t remember.”
“We’re just talking,” Caitlin explained.
“I don’t remember,” Craig repeated and they heard his voice crack with emotion. They watched as his eyes darted around the room, like he was searching for something. “What is going on? What’s happening?”
Craig wasn’t all there and they tried to be okay with that, although it was alarming to have to remind him of what had just happened. They tried to embrace him and give him some kind of support and she could feel the urgency in the teenager’s grasp. It was like he felt they were the last two people on Earth that he had and Caitlin knew that in a way they were.
“How are you feeling about what just happened?” Caitlin asked and looked over at Joey. Suddenly she was hit with her own doubts. It was up to them to get Craig through this…and the rest of his life.
“I’m worried about Craig,” Joey said without hesitation.
She couldn‘t talk about the fact they were officially his parents now. Maybe they didn‘t need to. It was what they had to do. “No…I mean, Albert.”
“Why would I have any kind of reaction to that?” Joey questioned, his tone full of disbelief and the slight hint of anger, but he wasn‘t sure where that was coming from. “Albert Manning and I weren’t exactly best buddies.”
“Understandable,” Caitlin quickly agreed. “It’s still pretty surreal. Came right out of left field.”
“We knew he had problems. I just don’t think anyone knew how bad they were,” Joey said and rolled away from Caitlin. He stared at the wall and tried to keep his mind from going there and imaging ways he could have intervened; he would have done anything to prevent this if it meant saving Craig from pain.
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Joey’s first reaction to the crying was that it was part of a dream. Craig was in his thoughts so frequently that it only made sense that he was in the dream too. It was so soft, just background noise to the events of the night replaying in his mind.
“Joey,” Caitlin whispered, shaking him. She watched his eyes fly open.
“Oh my God,” Joey whispered and hastily pulled the blankets off of him and jumped out of bed.
Instinctively, he went for Craig’s room. He found the bed empty and the sheets rumpled from Craig’s restless sleep. Joey could have sworn the crying was closer a moment ago, where was Craig? He started for the stairs when he saw Angie’s door open ever so slightly and he could see her wide chestnut eyes peeking out from the darkness. He turned and went for her bedroom.
“I’m scared,” she whispered as he slowly opened the door and watch his daughter retreat into the darkness of her room some. He felt Caitlin’s night gown brush up against him.
“It’s okay, honey. Craig just had a nightmare. That’s all it is,” Caitlin soothed and went for the child. As she handed a stuffed animal to Angela she said, “I’ll take care of her. Go be with Craig.”
Joey gave a rapid nod and as he exited the room, he heard Angie voice her concern, “Was he dreaming about the dinosaur again? Do you remember that one who would hurt him? Is that what happened now?”
It was something in those words that gave Joey the chills. He continued moving though and found Craig standing in the middle of the living room, looking around like he was lost in his own house. Joey flashed back to a moment when he had lost Angela in a department store. He and Julia were looking at a washer and dryer set and having a low key argument about what would work better; front loading washers produced cleaner clothes and used less water, she had argued. Angie was bored by this and had wandered off. He remembered those frantic moments of trying to find her, silently berating himself all the while. They found her in the juniors clothing department, ducking in and out of clothing racks. She had a smile on her face, not feeling lost at all.
Craig was lost, here in his own house, it seemed. He could see his stepson’s wet face and the terror in his eyes. Joey slowly approached his stepson and reached out to touch him.
“You’re here,” Craig said, stating each word between a gasp for air. “I thought you left. I thought you were like him.”
“What do you mean?” Joey questioned and swallowed hard. This moment took him back to those shaky first few months when Craig moved in and would wake up anxious from nightmares.
“It was dark. Like how it was at his house tonight,” Craig observed and began to move towards the kitchen. He flicked on the light switch and felt comfort in the light washing over the room. Things were still here. He was still here. Joey was still here. “I thought maybe you killed yourself.”
Joey stopped dead in the doorway that separated the kitchen and the living room. His mouth opened but he couldn’t find the words to respond. He watched as Craig passed him, clearly on a mission, and turned on the remainder of the lights in the living room.
“I’m right here, Craig. I’m not going anywhere,” he finally reassured.
Craig nodded for a few moments and surveyed the room. He felt better now with the lights on. That strange surreal danger was gone now. He had felt that at his father’s when he was trying to talk him down in their dark house. He didn’t like feeling that here at Joey’s. Joey’s was supposed to be safe.
Craig wiped his face. It was wet. He had been crying. But it wasn’t the normal kind of crying where you felt it build up and they exited in sobs. Now it was just happening. The tears were just flowing out of him involuntary. He couldn’t control what he was saying either, for the most part. What was happening to him? He got himself to stop nodding. “This feels better now.”
“Okay,” Joey said and moved towards his stepson. “If this is what makes you feel better, that’s fine. If this is what makes you feel safe, that’s fine. Can you try to get some sleep now?”
“Maybe…if the lights are on,” Craig replied as he stepfather led him up the stairs. He could feel his arm around him. “If the lights are on we can still keep watch.”
“Sure, buddy, whatever helps,” Joey soothed and flicked on the hall light. He paused by Angela’s room to close the door all the way. Angie only needed her night light and he was certain she would find this bothersome.
“Wait, what are you doing?” Craig demanded. Joey heard the panic in his stepson’s voice again.
“Angie doesn’t like the light shining into her room. She’s got her night light, remember?”
“No. I don’t like that. I don’t know if…”
“Craig, she’s going to be fine. I’ll check on her throughout the night, alright?” Joey said and continued to steer Craig into his bedroom. “Come on and try to get some rest. Things are going to seem better in the morning.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Craig replied as he stiffly laid down in bed. He could see the worry in Joey’s eyes and knew that he knew this as well. “I don’t know if anything is ever going to be the same again.”
“Let’s just take it one day at a time. One hour at a time. And right now you need to try to get some rest.”
“Did it really happen? Did he really do it?” Craig questioned. Suddenly everything seemed unclear. Maybe he did just go crazy and dream it all up. It was something he would do. He started to sit up. “I need to go make sure. I just called him. I got his voicemail. It sounded like he was there. I need to go call again. Maybe he‘ll pick up. I need to go make sure.”
Joey gripped Craig’s shoulders and gently began to ease him back down into bed. “You don’t have to make sure of anything. You don’t need to worry about anything. I’ll take care of things. Just try to sleep.”
Joey could feel Craig still resisting him. He found himself talking, mainly just to talk. It seemed like hearing his voice relaxed his stepson some. He rubbed Craig’s shoulders and arms, occasionally tightening his grip when Craig insisted he had to make sure and tried to get up. He continued to reassure him with stories of his childhood and the fact that he was here and he wasn’t going anywhere. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere,” Joey continued to interject in-between stories of Craig’s childhood; family vacations to water parks, baseball fields, and GI Joes.
“I feel like I’ve been in a war,” Craig mumbled as he felt his heart disappear from his chest and the blackness of sleep slip over him.
---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ----------
Time wasn’t making any sense. Events seemed to fade into one another. Craig knew that he wasn’t sleeping and maybe that had something to do with it. Sleeping helped to create blocks of time and that wasn’t happening. Things felt like they kept happening over and over. He wasn’t sure how many times he’d have that conversation with Joey and Caitlin about why it had to happen. Visitors came and went. His closest friends flowed into the room and out. Most of the time he was aware he was speaking to them, although it seemed hard to control what he would say. He knew this situation was scaring them, that he was scaring them. He barely felt the awkwardness of Mr. Simpson visiting. It was Joey’s friend, he’d seen him in his living room before.
He just gave his media immersion teacher a nod, sank down onto the living room couch, and stared blankly at the TV screen.
“Do you want some tea? I can get you some tea,” Caitlin offered and started to cross over to the kitchen. She paused and waited for Craig to respond.
“Sure,” Craig said to humor her. This was what Caitlin had been doing for the past few days. She brought him tea or chicken noodle soup like he was home from school because he was sick with the flu.
“Do you mind if we talk?” Simpson cautiously asked and shifted his glance from Craig to Joey.
Craig looked over, curious. “Uh, okay.”
“I’m going to go help Caitlin out with the tea,” Joey declared.
Craig felt the couch cushions shift as Simpson sat down next to him. Craig couldn’t help but dart his eyes around nervously. What was this about?
“I’m not going to pretend that I have any idea what it’s like for you. But I do want you to know that you aren’t alone in this. We’re here to support you. And you aren’t the first person to lose someone to suicide. There’s others out there that can relate to you,” Simpson paused for a few moments and then continued. “When I was a senior in high school, a kid committed suicide in the boys washroom. I was the one to find him.”
Craig looked over at his teacher in shock. He wasn’t expecting that. He was expecting the same words of comfort everyone else had offered. “How did he do it?”
“He shot himself.”
“Like my…” was the only thing Craig could say. He glanced over and saw Simpson nod. Of course he knew. “Were you okay afterwards?”
“It was a very difficult thing to deal with. I had nightmares and a lot of questions that no one had the answers to.”
“Was he your friend?”
“No, but I knew him. I had seen him in the school halls before.”
“So you probably didn’t wonder about how you could have done things differently then huh? I did everything wrong that night. What I should have done is called the cops the moment he threatened it. I didn‘t know,” Craig said and rubbed at his sore eyes.
“You did everything the only way you knew how. You can’t blame yourself for this, you just can’t. It will consume you,” Simpson said and reached for his bag. He pulled out several books and set them on the coffee table. He watched as Craig curiously looked them over.
“Self help books for suicide survivors. That sounds like fun. Going to pick up some horror movies too? Cause I don’t have enough blood in my nightmares yet. I need some more,” Craig couldn’t help but snap. The anger was back again.
“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to read them. You might not be ready. I thought I’d offer and let you know that I‘m here for support. A couple of them are mine, so you can hang onto them for as long as you want. The other is Ms. Sauvé’s. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you kept them for awhile.”
Craig sighed and closed his eyes. “Everyone is treating this like…it’s something that there’s a manual for. That all my reactions are normal. They aren’t normal to me. I don’t feel like myself anymore,” Craig said and opened his eyes.
Simpson smiled warmly, “I think we all would like a copy of that manual to life. But there isn’t one. So you’ve got our support while you get through this.”
“They’ve got me on more meds,” Craig said. “I swear, it’s Joey’s first reaction to everything. Get Craig talking to someone else because he doesn't know what to do. Like it helps at all. Well, some of the pills do but I knew that already. But they don’t even really do anything right now.”
He watched as Simpson nodded, but looked slightly confused. His friends had simply nodded when he told them he didn’t have to dig into his private stash anymore because they were actually prescribing Xanax for him. Ashley was the only one who had the guts to say that it was good that he was getting a physician’s advice. But she didn’t respond when Craig said that he knew what was best all along. They kept doing that, just letting him talk but not really having a conversation with him. Craig was beginning to wonder if he was human. At least he was human enough to show restraint and kept from going into detail with his teacher about those little blue pills.
“It sounds like you have been experiencing some anxiety, they just want to help make this situation easier on you,” Simpson chose to say. Buddy Jeremiah had already spilled this information to him the other night on the phone. Craig was the only thing they talked about and he had a feeling the only thing Joey thought about lately.
Craig swallowed hard and glanced out the window at the darkening sky. “I hate nighttime now,” he griped. He was feeling that urge again. He knew the upstairs was unoccupied and dark and that made him uneasy. He got to his feet and the moment he started moving, Caitlin and Joey were in the room.
“What’s up, buddy?” Joey asked.
Craig paused and fidgeted some. He couldn’t explain it. He was doing it for them. He had to keep them safe. “Um, I just…I’ll be right back,” He said and went for the stairs.
Simpson shot a look of confusion over at his friends.
"Craig wants all the lights on in the house when it starts to get dark. And I mean every light. He wants us to keep our bedroom doors open and the lights on," Joey explained. They sent Angie to grandma’s after the first night post suicide out of fear that Craig’s moods would frighten her.
"It happened at night right? The suicide?"
"Yeah. Craig said that when he got to the house, all the lights were off. I know that’s why he’s doing this, wanting all the lights on at, say, 1 am. There’s not a lot of sleeping happening at Casa Jeremiah,“ Joey said and noticed that his tone was irritable. He cleared his throat in an attempt to lighten his tone. "I'm sorry, I probably sound like I'm complaining. And maybe I am. I'm just...tired. And I feel helpless. I don't know what to do for him."
"I understand. This is probably the hardest time he'll have."
Joey nodded and stared blankly off for a moment. "One night he came into my bedroom and was crying about how I was going to kill myself. I don’t know what to do for him.”
“It’s going to change him. But he will be okay,” Simpson said and stopped once he heard Craig on the stairs. He just let his look be response enough. He had already tried to reassure Joey that Craig would be fine. Craig was grieving and stressed out; that was why he seemed all over the place with his fragmented thoughts. Joey had only once quietly revealed that he feared Craig would try suicide again (but kept the details to himself; he could imagine Craig deciding he didn’t want to be in a world without his parents) and Simpson had quickly replied that Craig didn’t have some suicide gene.
“He will be okay,” Simpson repeated and watched as the teen descended the steps.
Craig suspiciously eyed the adults in his living room. They all hadn’t moved from the spot he’d left them in. He could just imagine the hushed discussion that had just taken place. They all thought he was nuts, he could tell. He watched as they all shifted their eyes away. Caitlin headed to the kitchen, declaring she’d get the tea, and his stepfather and his friend sat down on the couch. Craig started for an armchair and then paused.
“Can I ask you something?” Craig said and looked at his teacher.
“Ask away.”
“That guy...the guy you found who shot himself...what did he look like?”
Caitlin was startled by the question and nearly dropped the tray as she was setting it on the coffee table. Craig barely glanced at it as the coffee cups rattled, his gaze was fixed on Simpson.
“I don’t think you should be thinking about that,” Simpson said after hesitation.
“No,” Craig said and gazed off for a moment. Craig had to ask. None of this seemed real. He still wasn‘t convinced his dad was really gone. “It’s not fair. I want to know and I can’t know.”
“That’s really not an important detail.”
“I’ll just go look it up on the internet if you won’t tell me.”
“What in the world do you think you are going to find on the internet?” Joey blurted out, shocked by the possibilities of what was rolling around in Craig’s head at the moment.
“What can’t you find on the internet?” Craig muttered, irritated.
“It’s a violent way to die, Craig,” Simpson interjected.
“I’m tired of wondering! Everything after that one moment is totally left up to my imagination and it’s driving me crazy!”
“How about if you told us what you saw? Tell us about that night.”
Craig felt like his mind had suddenly come to a halt. The conversation felt real now. He pressed his fingers to his lips for a moment and he could feel the adults watching his movements. They knew that was very telling body language, that it was his way of trying to get himself to stop. He lowered them and apologized, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m talking about this.”
“It’s alright, Craig,” Simpson reassured. “You are just grieving.”
Craig looked away from his teacher for a moment and wondered if it was alright to ask this. Then he said it, “Will you come to the visitation tomorrow night?”
He watched his teacher smile warmly. “I’m there. We’re all here for you. You aren’t going through this alone.”