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Why do you give a shit?

Because I do.

Why?

It doesn’t matter why. All that matters is that I’m here and that I’m not gonna accept any of your bullshit or any of your excuses. You can make this easy, and come back right now, or you can make this hard, and make me call out my dogs. Either way, you’re here till you get better.

I can’t promise that’s gonna happen.

Promise that you’ll try.

I stare at him.

Trying can’t hurt, Kid,

There is truth in his eyes. Truth is all that matters.

And trying’s nothing to be scared of.

Truth.

Just try.

I take a deep breath. I stare at him. I am in the darkest darkness and I am comfortable. Except for my time inside, I have been sober for a total of four days in the last six years. My attempts at sobriety were weak at best. There was always liquor around, there were always drugs around, I was always around people who were using them. I am profoundly physically, mentally and emotionally Addicted to two separate substances. I am profoundly physically, mentally and emotionally Addicted to a certain way of life. I don’t know anything else anymore, I don’t remember anything else anymore, I don’t know if I can be anything else at this point. I am scared to try. I am fucking scared to death to try. I have considered my options to be Jail or death. I have never considered quitting to be an option because I have never believed that I could do it. I am scared to death to try.

I stare at Leonard. I don’t know him. I don’t know who he is or what he does or what he has done to arrive at this moment. I don’t know why he is here or why he has followed me or why he gives a shit. What I know is in his eyes. What I know is an anger, a hardness, a resolve and truth. What I know is that I respect his eyes and I believe his eyes. What I know is that what’s in his eyes is different from any of the other eyes that have looked at me, judged me, pitied me and written me off over the last years. What I know is that I can trust his eyes because what lives in them, lives in me.

Twenty-four hours.

Twenty-four hours what?

I’ll stay here for twenty-four hours. If I feel the same way I feel now, I’m gone.

I’ll call out my dogs.

Call them. I’ll bite their fucking heads off.

He smiles.

You’re a scary Motherfucker, Kid.

Don’t forget it, Old Man.

He laughs.

Come here, I’m gonna give you a hug.

I stay where I am.

I agreed to twenty-four hours. That doesn’t mean I’m hugging you and that doesn’t mean we’re friends.

He laughs again, steps forward, puts his arms around me, hugs me.

All you got to do is try.

I pull away, he motions toward the faded lights of the Clinic.

It’s fucking cold out here and I’m soaking wet and I don’t want to get sick. Let’s go inside.

I’m not going back to that Lecture.

I don’t care if you do or you don’t, as long you’re inside, I’m happy.

We walk back to the door and I open it and we go inside. The lights are bright and I don’t like them and I am scared to death.

I am scared to death.

Scared to death.

Scared.

Fucking scared.

Chapter 9

I am outside. I am sitting on a wooden bench in back of the Main Building of the Clinic. There are empty benches on either side of me, a small Lake in front. I am cold and I am shaking and there is sweat running down my forehead and my chest and my arms and my legs and my heart is speeding up and slowing down and my teeth are chattering and my mouth is dry and there are bugs in my coat and in my pants and in my shirt and in my shoes and in my socks. Even though I can see them and hear them and feel them, I know they’re not really there. I’m cold. I can see the bugs and I hear the bugs and I feel the bugs, but I know they’re not really there. I’m cold.

I have not slept, will not be sleeping anytime soon. I tried to sleep and Warren was snoring and the Bald Man was snoring and John was moaning and turning and twitching and crying out in his dreams and I was thinking about my decision to stay here for twenty-four more hours. My mind was fine with my decision and my heart was fine