Unsound: A Horizons Book

Table of Contents

Chapter One             

Chapter Two             

CHAPTER THREE             

Chapter Four             

Chapter Five             

Chapter Six             

Chapter Seven             

Chapter Eight             

CHAPTER NINE             

CHAPTER TEN             

CHAPTER ELEVEN             

EPILOGUE             

Chapter
One

* When One Door Closes *

Julie

I was confused—disoriented. I knew I was in a car but I didn't know where it was going. I was often in strangers' cars, not knowing my final destination and not caring. But I was very confused this time.

That noise confused me. I heard static, crackled voices.
Was I losing my hearing? That wasn't the radio, was it? Was someone talking to me? Was that joint laced with something? What time is it?

The questions drifted through my mind with fluidity—no pause for a real answer to form. I decided that there was a drug in my system, making me not care anymore. Making me sleepy. I closed my eyes.

*  *  *

It was bright outside... I could see it behind my eyelids. The last I remembered, it was night.
Maybe I passed out for a while... Who was I with?

My eyelids flew open but immediately shut again from the brightness, tears forming. Wherever I was, it was extremely bright... and antiseptically white. I went to rub my eyes, but my hands were strapped down.

I waited for panic to flood me but it didn't. It wouldn't. I knew there were still drugs in my system. In my line of..."work" I should have been a lot more careful. I didn't know what kind of creeps I could encounter or what kind of
Saw
situations I could get myself trapped in. But it was the worst
Catch-22
. My “job" was hard to deal with sober, but it was dangerous to deal with messed up.

"She's up, she's up!" I heard a familiar voice and a small sense of calm fell over my body.

I had a fleeting thought about how I could relax further, but fear never overtook me. Whatever drugs I was on, I wanted to keep them in my system.

With difficulty and some uncontrollable tears, my eyes opened.

"Mom?" I was surprised at how rough my voice sounded.
When was the last time I spoke out loud?
I thought as I choked on the dryness.

"Honey, I'm here," the voice sounded distant, but soon my mother's face swam into view above me.

"Mom," my voice cracked and I realized I was sobbing. My face was itchy from the tears, but I couldn't wipe them away. I remembered that I was strapped to the bed, "where am I?"

Now it was Nina Thompson's turn to cry. Looking at me was surely difficult at that moment: dirty greasy hair, smudged mascara over a black eye, cut lip, bruised forehead. I was strung out and strapped to a gurney in a hospital.

I had been missing for seven months.

When the phone rang that night in my childhood home, Nina knew it was the phone call she had been waiting seven months for. But she wasn't expecting this.

She didn't know how to feel. The relief she originally felt didn't last long. Anger crept up from her gut.

I was still disoriented but I needed answers. I wanted to know where I was. I wanted to know why I was strapped down. Fear started to mount gradually—if only for a moment before I remembered my mom’s presence. Then the fright dissipated quickly, bringing tears back.

"What happened? What's going on?" I barked through sobs.

"That's what I would like to know," Nina responded, surprising herself with the fire in her voice. She didn't realize how angry she was and didn't expect anger to flood out of her; she thought she could control it, "where the hell have you been? What the hell have you been doing for the last seven months?"

Before I could answer, the curtain beside the bed opened and a short, stocky woman walked through.

"I thought I heard talking. Our patient is awake, I see. How're you doing sweetheart?"

Nina slowly backed away from the bed. Her anger at herself suddenly trumped her anger at me. She did the last thing she intended by blowing up at me.

As Nina backed further out of the room, I began to struggle on the bed. I wanted to look at my mother but the nurse blocked my view. That’s when the screaming commenced. I didn't know where I was, but I didn't want to be there anymore. I started pulling at the straps holding my arms down.

Extra nurses hurried into the room to hold me down and prevent me from hurting myself as I struggled against the grips that bound me.

Nina couldn't watch anymore. She left the room in search of the officer who found me. She wanted to see what options there were for me. And she definitely didn't want to see me again until I was clean. She wanted to forget what she had just seen, wanted to forget that person tied down to a bed like a mental patient or a criminal.

Is that what I had become? A criminal? Was I crazy?

Nina would wait until I came back for real and emerged to the surface again.

But for now, her daughter was still missing.

*  *  *

I sat up in bed drinking juice from a straw. I was allowed use of my left hand to hold the paper cup but my right remained securely handcuffed to the bed rail. There was an officer sitting in the room to keep watch on me and the other purported criminal on the other side of the curtain as I drank my juice.

I was secretly pressing the straw into the roof of my mouth and my gums, giving myself tiny cuts. My whole body was in pain, but the localized pain from the straw felt strangely good. I occasionally washed the metallic taste of blood away with my apple juice.

I wanted my mom. I began to think that she had never been there in the first place.
Maybe I hallucinated her, because my mother would never leave me here.

But Nina Thompson had been present and she did leave once she found out that I had been wrapped up in some type of prostitution ring. The police didn't have details; it was impossible in a city like Los Angeles. But they did recommend sending me away.

I was 16-years-old, a minor, but the charges against me were serious. Not just the prostitution but also the drugs I had in my possession and in my system. Juvenile detention was an option. So was a rehabilitation center.

At this point, I didn't care. I was starting to think that getting the shit beat out of me in juvie would feel better than detox did.

Regardless, it was highly recommended to send me out of state. I learned this all from the bits and pieces I overheard in the hall between cops and doctors. I hadn't heard my mother's voice again.

The prostitution game could be dangerous depending on who was involved. I couldn't tell the police too much—only about my direct boss. Regarding my disappearance, I only answered the questions that referred to their case and only facts. I wasn't allowing anyone to shrink me. I refused to discuss anything about my reasons for escape and only admitted facts about where I lived, how I got into turning tricks, and my drug usage since there was no point in denying it.

Before I ran away, Nina would find me drunk or stoned, but the variety of drugs the hospital found traces of… that was new information for my mom. For me, they were just new, more efficient and readily available ways to numb the pain.

A female doctor walked into the hospital room, closing the curtain around us. I heard the chubby officer leave his post with a groan to increase the illusion of privacy.

"How are you feeling, Julie?" she asked.

"Oh just peachy doc, thrilled to be here," I deadpanned.

"Well then I guess you'll be sad to know you're leaving tomorrow morning," the doctor said, looking at her chart rather than me.

"Am I going home?" I asked, excited. I wanted to go home, I wanted to see my sister and hug her and make sure she was okay.

"Not quite," the doctor began, pulling me down from my excitement.

"What does that mean?" I questioned quietly, unsure that I wanted the answer. The doctor closed the chart and looked at me.

"Look Julie, I don't know exactly what you've been through. I'm not a shrink. But it's clear that you're in need of healing. Maybe in order to do that, you need to get away from everything that has caused you pain in the past…. This therapeutic boarding facility in Washington is one of the best."

"Washington?" I cut the doctor off, "as in State or our fine Nation's Capital?"

"State. You're headed north, Julie," the doctor said with a smile, "This particular school, Horizons, is one of the best…"

The doctor continued but I stopped listening. I didn't care. I had a small sense of relief that I was staying on the west coast, but I was still going to be over a thousand miles away from my sister.

"But my mom…" I started to say, interrupting the doctor once again.

"Your mom is the one who enrolled you. We had a discussion with the police, and they think this may be the safest alternative. They don't know exactly who you were working for, but since you gave them an address and a name to start the investigation, they think that not only is this best for your health but for your safety to be sent out of state.

"It's not an easy place to get accepted. Your mother has been working on this 'round the clock for a few days."

"Days?" I asked, confused.
I had been here for days?
It felt like a couple of hours. I was missing big chunks of time.

"Your body is going through a lot, you're going to be detoxing for at least another week, maybe two. It's going to be uncomfortable and potentially painful. But you're going to be someplace that can help you through that."

I wasn't listening. I didn't understand. I didn't know how I could have been here for more than a day without my mother being by my side. Without my sister wanting to see me.
And now my mother’s shipping me up to Washington?

A dull anger started to form. I could understand that Nina was upset and disgusted with me, but was I supposed to be happy that she worked to send me so far from home? Was I supposed to be thankful that she couldn't stomach sending me to jail?

I stared at the doctor but didn't hear another word
.

JONATHAN

I looked up as Jeff Lawrence entered the mess hall and headed for the Mountain Climber table, "Hey guys," he greeted as he slid onto the bench, making our table an even six. "Since Janice left last week, we've been looking for a replacement for you guys."

There were a few muttered grunts in response, but no one looked up from their breakfast at the news.

"I know you're not rushing to get back on schedule with a new group leader, but we're going to find someone great for you guys."

I cleared my throat quickly and Jeff looked over at me, "Why did Janice leave in the first place? It's not like she gave us much warn-" I paused for a second to stifle a yawn, "ing."

"You're right," Jeff replied with a shrug, "It was sort of a surprise to all of us. But leaving you guys was really hard on her. Her husband just got transferred to a base in Arizona and they have a baby on the way... she had to think about her family first. Sometimes life just gets in the way."

Jeff looked carefully at each of us. Between Anthony Rodrigues, Michelle Miller, Jason Fischer, Marie Braddock and myself, no one looked back at him. We lazily kept our eyes on our plates, continuing to eat breakfast.

Jeff shrugged and stood up. He didn't fault us for taking it hard. We put our trust in one person, that person forced us to work through our issues, then that person up and left with barely a goodbye. He knew whoever filled Janice's spot was going to have much harder work ahead of them than what Janice left behind.

"Marie, can you come into my office when you're done eating?"

I glanced over and saw Marie nod.

"See you guys," Jeff said with a small wave as he walked away from the table.

The 30-something owner of Horizons had taken over what Janet left behind. The Mountain Climber group was the one he belonged to as a teen addict. It was also the first group he led as a counselor. Because of that, I always thought he favored us over the other groups, although he would never admit it.

Jeff walked back to his office to wait for Marie.

*  *   *

Since we didn't have a group leader, we lingered in the mess hall after breakfast finished.

"What was that about?" I asked Marie quietly as she slid next to me on the bench. She was a sweet, quiet 15-year-old, with mousy brown hair and sad brown eyes. Her lips turned down at the corners in an eternal frown.

Marie looked me in the eye briefly before looking down to where her almost untouched tray of food had sat fifteen minutes prior, "oh it was nothing important," she muttered quietly. "We're getting a new student today," she announced to the group.

"Sweet! I hope she's hot!" Jay exclaimed, "Wait, is it a she?"

Jason was 17-years-old, with pale skin, dark brown hair and ice blue eyes. He was sarcastic, too smart for his own good, and riddled with too much testosterone—even considering that we were stuck up here with minimal female contact besides our group members.

Marie shrugged; Jeff never mentioned the sex of the new group member.

"Like you stand a chance with a hot girl," Anthony joked, making us laugh.