The long road to recovery

Chapter 1: The first step is always the hardest

Amber waves of light poured into dingy apartment illuminating each and every plastic bottle, cigarette package, as well as garbage bag with a nearly heavenly glow. True this was a pigsty but home is where you hang your hat and Jack had long since grown accustomed to this style of living. Even now in the ethereal light of dawn he sat perched upon the windowsill, feet dangling over the edge as he took another long drag from a half finished smoke. As streams of thick gray smoke poured forth from his nostrils he looked down at the cityscape far below, the people going about their daily lives as if ants to a colony. He chuckled to himself as he tossed what little remained of his cigarette to the streets below.

As he returned his feet to the stability of scuffed and stained hardwood floors his eyes met with a familiar sight, it was all he could do to shake merely look away in hopes that he could put the whole mess behind him. For there in the very center of his battered bachelor’s apartment laid a solitary wooden table seated for one. It was beaten and bruised after nearly a decade of use but stood strong against the steady march of time despite being much worse off for it. The simple raw wood chair that accompanied it sat clear across the room, face down atop a pile of miscellaneous clothing and magazines. Yet the chaotic state of the apartment was not why he did his best to avert his gaze, no that due entirely to what sat mocking him atop the table itself.

For resting peacefully upon the splintered boards of his dining room table was the steel plated reaper itself, the .44 magnum which no less than a couple hours ago had been locked and loaded and pointed directly at himself. As far as he was concerned that space in his apartment may as well have not even existed with how little he wanted to do with it. Glancing over at the stove he half-heartedly checked the time as he reveled in the mid-autumn breeze. The crisp morning air revitalized him and at the same time made him realize what a mess he was. His sweat-stained cloths clung to him and half his hair was slick with grease while the other half was matted to his face. His face was framed by a scraggly outcropping of random facial hair and the dark circles which outlined his eyes were even worse than usual.

He took a moment to appreciate the truly deplorable depths to which he had sunk and in that moment he couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t some half-hearted chuckle either, this was full-fledged boisterous laughter. Jack reveled in the laughter for a good long while, it had been some time since he had laughed like this and god knows when he’d get another chance. With sides splitting and tears of joy forming in the corners of his eyes he shuffled his way past the mounds of junk and trash to make his way to the kitchen. His hopes for scrounging up enough food to make a “meal” in the wasteland he called a fridge were low but he was feeling good so there was no reason not to.

As the rusty off-white door swung open the first thing to hit Jack was the stench of expired milk and rotten fruit. Just as fast as he had opened it the fridge door was slammed shut with little concern for the consciences and even less of an appetite. With nothing in the fridge, nothing in the pantry, and less than nothing in his wallet Jack reached for his trusted morning companion, a well-worn tin of coffee grounds. Slowly he set about preparing his outdated machine (or as he liked to call it Thor) for what had been their daily routine for longer than jack cared to remember. First there was the filter, twice as many as recommended or else it came out more as a chunky syrup then actual coffee. Then came the grounds, Jack had taken to mixing in brown sugar and cinnamon, not for the taste but rather because it meant he had to buy coffee less frequently. Next was the water, enough for an entire pot so that he’d have coffee for the next day. Finally there was the most “interesting part of this whole procedure, the plugging in of the machine.

There was a reason Jack had begun to lovingly refer to his coffee maker as Thor, and it wasn’t because it wielded a sacred hammer. No it was because every time he’d have to plug the damn thing in it felt as though he’d been struck but a bolt of lightning. Taking in a deep breath Jack took hold of the plug and in one swift motion jammed it into the outlet. There was about a millisecond between the coffee maker switching on and what felt like 10’000 volts coursing through each and every inch of Jack’s body. The moment that spark ran up his arm Jack leapt straight into the air and did his best to shake off the pain “f**k… f**k, f**k… fuckin’ hell that hurt.”

With a sigh he examined his hand, flipping it over and double-checking to make certain that everything was still in order. Satisfied that his hand wasn’t burnt or smoking he left the machine to do its work, ignoring the strange noises it made as he left. As he exited the kitchen he glanced over once more at the clock on the stove, it was now 6:48 in the morning. Jack looked down at his clothes as he raised on arm over his head, taking a quick whiff from underneath as he did. His regret was instant as he pulled away immediately, there was no way around it he needed a shower. With one hand he removed his tank top and tossed it across the room, not really caring where it landed. With his chest exposed to the morning breeze he gave a slight shiver as he trudged onward through the mounds that littered the apartment floor as he made his way towards the bathroom. Two thumbs hooked under the waistband and the next article of clothing to be discarded where his rather worn track pants.

There was no door within the frame that lead to Jack’s bathroom, only a non-slip bath mat which lined pretty much the entirety of the now tileless floor. The sound of running water filled the air as the rust-eaten pipes moaned and groaned before suddenly springing to life. Before stepping in Jack took a long hard look at himself in the mirror, his gaze met with the ghastly image of what serval sleepless nights will do to a man. He shook it off as best he could before splashing some cold water on to his face, if he couldn’t have his coffee right this instance this would have to suffice for now. As he continued his detailed inspection in the mirror he grabbed his razor, running the cold water overtop its blades before raising it to meet his face. What hair had managed to grow in-between now and his last shave was not much but neither was it so little that he could leave it there.

The clean steel of the blades caressed his jaw as it effortlessly skated across his face, removing most of the hair in one fell swoop. Pleased with his handy work and finished admiring it in the mirror Jack looked over his shoulder to the shower from which clouds of steam now emanated. It was clear that he had waited long enough for the water to heat up and as such he wasted no time in jumping into the refreshing warmth. For the most part this was all routine, soap, shampoo, conditioner, and rinse but as it came time to leave the warm waters behind something from the back of his mind couldn’t let him go. So there he sat, seconds turned to minutes as he simple le the water flow over him and cleanse him of his filth. He looked down at his now waterlogged hands as thoughts of last night filled his mind to the brim. They raced and raced from each corner of his mind until he felt he could contain them no mor but just before he burst there was silence…

Jack came to, to the sound of ringing and running water as he looked about only to find himself still within the shower. He remain planted within the same spot but slowly turned the taps until the flow of water was but a trickle. His movements were sluggish and lethargic but still he pressed on, past the shower curtain and out the bathroom with nothing but a towel clinging to his waist. As he was greeted once more by the familiar sight of what should have been the floor to his apartment he put on a smile as the scent of freshly brewed coffee reached his nose through all the other scents wafting through the crowded space. To his delight (and much to his surprise) Thor had successfully brewed yet another pot without burning the house down, though he wouldn’t have complained either way.

With the promise of coffee and at least one clean cup today was promising to be a better day than most for Jack, how could he help but smile as he took his first big swig of the mud coloured substance? As the warmth spread first from his lips down to his very core he let out a breath of relief, it was definitely worth the trouble and of that he was certain. Wishing he could continue to sip on this very cup of coffee for the rest of the day he gave long yawn accompanied by a stretch as he began his day proper. There wasn’t much to do but he figured that doing it now meant that he had more time to waste later on. Setting the half empty cup of coffee down onto the counter Jack moved out once more to the main living space of his apartment.

It wasn’t long before he was rummaging around in several piles of dirty laundry trying his best to scrounge together enough clean clothing to at least look presentable when he left the house. As more time passed and less piles remained for him to look through it was becoming increasingly obvious that laundry was another thing to add to his to do list. Forced to settle for one step below clean Jack donned his best pair of jeans and an off-white shirt which at one point had been just plain white. Immediately Jack’s hands were stuffed deep into the front pockets of his jeans as he searched for his wallet. Sufficiently certain that his lost wallet wasn’t in this pair of pants he took a glance across the room at the many piles that lined the floor and decided that it would just be easier to dip into the “rainy day” fund rather than checking each and every pocket that he owned.

Grabbing a fistful of assorted coins and bills from an old coffee tin under the sink Jack shoved the undetermined amount into one of his pant pockets without looking. He thought it best that he didn’t know how much money he had on him at any given time lest he be disappointed by the answer. Pushing such thoughts as far away from the forefront of his mind as possible he instead chose to focus on more pressing issues, like the fact that he was down to his last pack of smokes. He added this to the ever growing to do list which he kept at the back of his mind at all times while crumpling the empty packet and pocketing the remaining cigarette. The last thing he needed before he made his way out was his keys, hung beside the door he checked the clock once more, it read 8:30.

A bell sounded as the glass door to the diner flung open before Jack, a small group of rowdy customers bumping into him before noisily disappearing down the street. He looked back at them for a split second before catching himself and turning to face the door once more. As he entered he was immediately assaulted by the sheer volume of Red’s during a morning rush. It was just about half past eight now and the diner was bursting wall to wall with happy families, hungover party goers, and the odd professional looking to start their day off right. Each and every one of their voices mixed with the clanking of silverware and the sizzle o the grill in the back until it formed a cacophony of sound that Jack could only describe as Red’s.

Though the sound of it all was the most immediate and striking feature it was far from the only thing that he’d call comforting. Of course there was the familiar sight of the whitewashed walls with their gold and red pinstripes. Or the large chrome cast clock which hung proudly beside half famous authors and actors who had all (presumably) shared a meal here at some time or another. Then there was the booths, each framed by red leather chairs stitched in black all undoubtable stained with some sort of mystery fluid of that he was certain. The tables all the same fake marble plastered on top of wood and capped with plastic painted chrome. It was truly a sight to behold, it was as if Jack was transported to a dingier, dirtier… shitier time in the past and something about that warmed him to the bottom of his heart.

Catching himself in his little wander down memory lane Jack shook his head with a half-hearted chuckle as his eyes wandered from booth to booth looking for one in particular. As his gaze was met with a waving hand he knew that’s he had found the booth he was searching for, and if that wasn’t enough at just that moment an exuberant “HEY!” echoed forth from the noisy diner putting to rest any and all doubts. Jack strode through the busy space with ease as he made his way to the last both against the wall, quite a nice spot considering how busy Red’s was on the daily but then again Connor had always had his ways. Jack plopped down the seat opposite his friend and sprawled out along the cool leather of the chair.

“Well you’re lookin’ mighty fine for a ghost if I were to say so myself” Connor punctuated his sentence by laughing at his own joke and Jake did his best to reciprocate but he had never been all too good at faking laughter. “But seriously, it’s been awhile since I’ve even heard of you man, just how have you been doin’?” Jack looked off to the side as the question was launched before shrugging as half a response “what haven’t I been fuckin’ doin’?” Connor’s eyes had been set to rest on Jack and with his lackluster response his mood visibly and audibly worsened as he gave a heavy sigh before speaking once again. “Honestly… you drop from the face of the earth for two months and the best you can muster as to where the f**k you’ve been is what haven’t I been doin?” Jack simply maintained eye contact with the wall despite his friend’s best attempts at grilling him, doing his best to play his cards as close to his chest as possible.

Thankfully it was right about then that the waitress made her rounds, starting with Jack and Connor’s table. She wore a bright yellow uniform decorated with red stripes and a white apron, the latter of which was home to a variety of stains garnered no doubt from a long and storied past. She stood before them one hand on her waist the other holding a yellow pad of paper. She exuded a veritable aura of distain from her very being but still somehow managed to keep her best customer service smile plastered across her face. In a sweet yet still somehow condescending tone she recited her lines “Welcome to Red’s old fashioned diner, where we always take the flavor to the Red line. Can I start you off with some refreshments today?” Connor’s eyes lingered for a moment on his friend before he turned to face the waitress “I’m sorry, we’re going to need a minute, we were just in the middle of som-” but before he could shoo their server away Jack sprung to life. Now in an upright position Jack leafed through the menu as he happily interrupted his pal.

With on hand flipping pages and the other tracking the movement of his eye upon the page Jack kept his face between the laminated pages of the menu as he spoke “Do you guys do milkshakes? ‘Cause I would kill for a chocolate milkshake right now.” Connor, who was at this point equal parts annoyed as well as hungry rolled his eyes as he too began to leaf through his options. The “cheerful” waitress pulled a pen from the pocket on her apron and began to scribble on the pad in her other hand “So one chocolate shake, and what would you like to eat today?” With a light slap the pages of the menu were brought to a close as Jack slit the booklet towards the server, sitting back in his chair as he did. “I will take the greasiest, meatiest, most filling thing that you have on the menu.” Jack shot a glance and a slight nod over the table at Connor after he was done giving his order as if to say “you’re up”. Without missing a beat he too closed his menu and handed it off to the waitress “I’ll take a glass of water, two eggs, and a link of sausages please.”

After reading them their order to make certain that she had gotten it down correctly she gave a smile and took her leave of the booth for the time being. Almost instantaneously Connor jumped right back into the conversation which Jack had done his best to derail only moments before “Seriously man, it’s been two whole months and none of us have heard jack s**t about you and the day after I find you in your apartment with a gun in your mouth you’re all like “let’s go to Red’s”. I’m worried, Sara’s worried, hell even Joe’s worried and he hates your guts. So enough of this petty macho bullshit Jack, I’m here cause I want to help my friend, not cause I enjoy shitty breakfast foods.” Jack groaned and he realised that he wouldn’t be able to get out of this like he usually did, Connor was much too determined to pull the truth from him to fall for his jokes and “it’s nothing”s.

He knew that he’d have to fess up eventually but had always hoped that he would have gotten at least another month or so to prepare himself mentally for the whole ordeal. Well whether he liked it or not the truth was going to come out today one way or another and he much preferred that it came straight from him than anywhere else. Jack placed a hand on the back of his neck as he did his best to organize all the words that he had to say “well you see… It’s like this… I’ve been going through a lot of… “things” lately and I’ve just been having a lot of trouble staying positive.” He wanted to say more, he wanted to scream all the problems with his life from the highest mountain and let all those down below know how life had truly f****d him over but every time the words came to mind they got stuck in a lump in the back of his throat.

Jack sat across his friend, one of the best he had ever known, with all the problems and heartache that berated him on a daily basis coursing through his mind, battering him like waves against the stone face of the shore yet nothing would come out. It was as if he was in the center of a raging storm and salvation was but a few miles out, yet his motor had stopped working all together. All he could do was sit silently and watch as the water collected on the bottom of his vessel, sure he could bail the water out but what good was there in delaying the inevitable. To give hope to a dying man is as much a sin as it is to kill him, or at least this is what Jack believed, and seeing as he was a dead man already surly it would be more humane to simply accept his fate, would it not? Yet here was Connor, his message of hope sending an already turbulent mind into disarray as he sat there listening willfully to an obvious excuse as to why jack was not in need of assistance.

“You see, it’s just been work… and s**t so I end up being too tired at the end of the day to hang out is all. Sorry I got you guys all riled up over nothin’, really my bad but I’m right as rain as you can clearly see. So you need to tell Sara and Joe to stop being such worry warts all the fuckin’ time ‘cause I’m good. Honestly.” Jack could practically feel the icy stair being shot at him from across the table, it was clear that this was not the end of the conversation, not even close. He mustered all the emotional strength that he could and tried to force the words stuck in his throat but still nothing came out, so instead Jack opted to wait silently for a response. He was not kept waiting long though as Connor’s quietly annoyed voice rang out once more “So you’ve been busy with work have you?”

Rather than forming a verbal response Jack thought it best to keep his answers vague and thus merely shook his head with a “mhm” as confirmation. Connor was getting increasingly annoyed with each response given, verbal or otherwise, and Jack could tell. All the signs where there, the slow talking, the condescending tone, and worst of all the ever increasing tempo his finger against the tabletop. Thankfully just as he was about to speak the waitress made he return, and was Jack ever glad to see her. She carried with her a tray of assorted drinks, two of which she grabbed with her free hand and placed before the two of them. As they both reached for their respective drink she put on her smile once more “You’re food will be out in a moment, thank you for waiting.”

That would have been the end of the interaction had it not been for Jack piping up just as the waitress started to leave “Uhh… thanks for the great service Emily.” Her name came out at snail’s pace due to the fact that Jack was scrambling to read it off her name tag as he finished his sentence. Conner sighed to himself as he sipped on his water and Emily smiled as she walked away, in a rush to clear her tray of drinks while she could. Jack’s eyes finally met with Connor’s for the first time since he had sat down as he slid the chocolate milkshake closer to him “Don’t you think that they have pretty amazing service considering how busy they always are?” The forced laughter that followed was weak at best and came to a complete halt as soon as Jack realized that none of this was going fly.

With a simple look Connor was conveying quite the complex message, it was the sort of look that gave Jack the impression that perhaps he should have chosen his words more carefully. As his glass of water was eased back onto the table Connor pulled himself forward in his seat “Are you done? ‘Cause I could sit here all day listening to you make excuses or you can actually tell me what’s up.” This made Jack’s face light up but not for anything comprehensible, no his face lit up with joy for all the wrong reasons “Well I always have had an affinity for story telling wouldn’t you say?” Almost instantaneously, as if he knew exactly how Jack would react, Connor picked up his coat and stood up “Good bye Jack.” “Hey now, it’s a f*****g joke, calm your t**s man…” There was sudden intensity that filled the usually laid back Connor and it shocked Jack to see him that way, it was as if something he had said offended him on some deep personal level.

Jack was sat there, scratching his head at this whole situation before him, after all he was only elevating the mood with a bit of humor, what could have upset his friend like this. He didn’t have to ponder long on that though as Connor was more than willing to almost yell an answer directly at him, even in the middle of this crowded diner. “A joke huh? Is that what this is to you? We’re talking about your life here, of course this isn’t some sort of joke!” Jack was quick to put a hand on Connor’s shoulder and pull him back into the booth whilst shushing him the entire time “Calm the f**k down, I don’t need random strangers hearing about my shit.” Somehow this only managed to enrage Connor even further, though he did manage to keep his voice to himself this time rather than sharing it with the entire diner and everyone present. He placed a hand upon his forehead and slowly began to soothe the oncoming headache that this whole ordeal was giving him “If shouting about it in front of total strangers is what it takes I will gladly stand here until I’m blue in the face to get you to talk about your problems like a grown ass man.”

Jack caved, partly due to the stress that he was quite visibly causing his friend and partly because he didn’t want that same friend to make another scene in his favorite diner. Jack sighed in defeat, though he was quite unclear as to what victory would have meant for him, and slumped down in his seat “Alright, if that’s what you really want we can talk about… what happened last night.” Readying himself for what laid ahead Jack grabbed his shake and took a moment to enjoy himself once more, the sugary concoction filling him with just a hint of joy as it sent chills down his spine and an ice-cream headache through his head. Regretting for an instance how big a sip he took he did the best he could to clear his throat before he spoke “Well when I told you that work was the reason that you hadn’t seen me I wasn’t technically lying to you.”

“This all starts about a week and a half before I disappeared, I had been living with Zoey in that rundown apartment of hers down on Main Street for about two years now and s**t was looking good, even bough a dog together and everything. You know how stories like this go though, things never stay good for long and let me tell you when s**t hit the fan it went up inn flames. First went my work life, my boss had been riding me hard ever since we got this new project and I just couldn’t keep up with the work load, it was no wonder the prick cut me gave me the boot soon after. I didn’t want to tell Zoey ‘cause I knew that would just worry her, so I thought I’d just get a new job and we could continue where we left off like nothing had ever happened. Boy was I ever f*****g wrong ‘cause with all that spare time I ended up walking in on her while she and her boy toy were f*****g like a pair of monkeys at the zoo. Can you believe that she had the balls to tell me that it was my fault, she said that if I had spent a little less time at work and a little more time with her that she would have never been “pushed” into another man’s arms, f*****g bullshit! All that was hard enough but just as I was finding my will to live, that little puppy that me and her had raised and loved, the one that I had to fight to keep by my side, the one who held me together through all this… she got run over right before my eyes. And that… that leads you right back to where you found me last night, deep throating a .44 and just about ready to pull the trigger.”

At some point during his monologue tears had begun to form in the corners of Jack’s eyes, the very same painful tears which trickled down his cheeks on that fateful night. His voiced waned as he fought through the urge to break down once more, barely holding himself together with sheer force of will alone. He brushed the tears aside with his napkin, his eyes no longer able to meet Connor’s as his weakness shone through. Once more Jack essentially flaunted the fact that he couldn’t do a fake laugh to save his life and he gave a weak chuckle to do his best at breaking the tension in the air “But I didn’t so there’s no reason to worry, right?”

Before Connor could reply Emily the waitress returned, this time bearing freshly cooked meats and eggs for the pair of friends. She placed a rather standard looking two eggs and sausage meal before Connor but placed before Jack was a mountain of steak atop fluffy scrambled eggs with rivers of maple syrup running down the entire thing, truly a sight to behold. Merely looking at the behemoth of a meal was more than enough for Connor to lose his appetite while Jack on the other hand was salivating like a hungry dog. It was of little surprise then when he dived face first into his bowl, giving little acknowledgement as their server took her leave “No there is plenty to be worried about, what happens the next time you feel like clocking out early and I’m not there to accidently wander in on you. You’re lucky that I had a spare key made up.”

Jack pulled himself away from his mountain of food long enough to wash down another mouthful with the chocolaty goodness of his shake before speaking “I… I wasn’t gonna go through with it man, so I don’t get what’s the big deal here. I made a mistake and that’s the end of it, it’s not like I’m sick or anything, so all I have to do from here on out is stop being such a big baby.” Connor shook his head as he pushed the food around his plate with his fork, his head propped up by the forehead with his other hand. His tone had shifted quite dramatically, gone where the harsh stings of anger and in it’s stead was a sort of quite resentment. Jack just couldn’t fathom what emotion was on display before him, it wasn’t sadness but it wasn’t anger either, it was a cocktail of such volatile emotions and many others and yet Connor’s face looked so calm.

For a brief moment there was a silence between the both of them as they set about eating their meals, uneasy as it may have been a small piece of Jack relished this moment, far removed from the weight of the conversation it felt as though he could breathe easier for the time being. Alas all good things must come to a close and this moment of respite from the storm was no exception. Connor’s fork bit into the yolk of his egg, thick rivers of yellow pooling on his plate as he finished composing himself “You’re such a god damn i***t… How can you be this selfish and idiotic all at the same time!? You talk as if ending your life would only ever effect you, like you don’t have friends or family who would be utterly destroyed getting the news.” Jack shrank in his seat as his friend’s voice resonated with pure emotion in his ears and in his heart.

Jack wasn’t completely stupid, he knew that his actions had a wider impact than just himself but he had always held the belief that most (if not all) of the people that knew him would just move on with their lives after he moved on with his. It was hard to stomach the truth but when it’s sitting right before you, pouring it’s heart out to you over breakfast it’s even harder to turn a blind eye to it. Just like that the wall of delusions that had been so carefully constructed to allow for Jack to so easily throw away his life crumbled down before him and all that he was left with was the truth. The cold, ugly, unforgiving truth which stared unblinkingly into the depths of his soul wrenched out a piece of him that he thought long dead. For the first time in a long time Jack felt alive, not merely present but well and truly alive.

It was as if his heart had started beating after a millennia of dormancy and with each beat a new surge of emotion flooded over him and filled him to the brim. Wonderful, terrible, and alien were all decent enough terms to describe this feeling but the most important part of this was that it was a feeling. Jack had spent so much of the past two months in a perpetual state of “gray” that this sudden surge of emotion had him on the verge of tears. With the fog lifted he could finally think clearly, he could see that it was obvious that his friends cared for him, so much so that they were willing to put up with the husk of a man he had become. Still they did not give up, to the very end Connor pushed and pushed his way in and finally he had opened the flood gates.

Throughout this entire epiphany Connor continued forth with his speech, completely oblivious of the momentous change which had just occurred before his very eyes, that is until Jack could hold back no longer and interrupted with two simple words “Help me.” Shocked Connor took a moments pause to gather himself before replying “Excuse me?” Unlike before there was no hesitation in Jack’s voice and his eyes no longer obscured and distant, in this moment he was simply a broken man asking for that which he needed most. “There’s obviously something wrong with me, I mean f*****g hell I tried to off myself for god’s sake. I just… I don’t know what to do, please I need your help. What do I do?”

Connor smiled warmly, not out of any sense of joy but rather because he had finally made it through to Jack. Though the pair of them had been sitting but a table’s length apart from one another it felt as though they were worlds apart when they spoke, that was until just now. As Connor looked deep into the eyes of a friend asking for help it was clear that he really was but an arm’s length away. He could finally begin to help him now that he was ready to help himself, Connor didn’t know what exactly changed his friend’s mind but he didn’t really care either, all that was important was getting him the help he so desperately required. “Now I’m going to suggest something and I don’t want you getting… well all you on me alright? Can you promise me that much?”

Jack was uncertain as to how to respond to such a statement, he honestly didn’t know what it meant to “be him” but he gave an affirmative nod nonetheless. With that out of the way Connor took a slight breath in before placing his hands together “I’m only asking ‘cause I know how you are about seeking out help. I can’t give you the kind of help that you need, that’s why I was thinking you should check yourself into a place that is actually equipped to deal with a case like yours. Someplace like the psych ward down on Waterfront St…” Jack was shocked at the mere mention of the notion “What? You want me to check myself into the looney bin just ‘cause I’ve been sad for a while? You’d like that wouldn’t you, so you wouldn’t have to deal with me huh?”

It was clear that Jack didn’t have the fondest perception of his plan but Connor was dead set on getting his friend the attention that he so desperately needed, even if that meant putting him a situation he didn’t exactly love. Though if he had found out the state of affairs much earlier he may have had the time to slowly persuade Jack and perhaps even change his mind entirely but desperate times call for desperate measures. If he couldn’t change his mind beforehand he’d just have to make his stay there as enjoyable as possible to change it while here was there “Now listen here, first of all it’s a mental health wellness center, not a looney bin. Secondly, don’t for a second think that just because you’re going there that I’m just going to up and leave you. If I was willing to see you through all this do you honestly think that I’m going to leave you when you need me the most?”

Uncertainty was beginning to well up within Jack, uncertainty of his future, of his condition, and most of all if he was really strong enough to make a change. Of course he had wished for it, for an opportunity to present itself before him so that he could take the darkness the had swallowed him head on and win but now that it was laid out before him doubt coursed through his mind. Would he be strong enough to stick with it, no matter how tough the going got? The more he thought about it the more monolithic this perceived darkness became and the more herculean the task at hand seemed to him. He was but a David before his own personal goliath and the insignificance he felt before it froze him in place. “I-I don’t know if I can… I mean-“

Connor had sat through more than enough excuses, he wasn’t about to let Jack try to weasel his way out of this one “I don’t care if you’re ready or not, that little stunt you pulled last night made it clear that you cannot handle this on your own. I’m giving you to the end of the week to get yourself ready before I take you there myself, I’m more than certain that this will be more than enough to get you in there even if you kick and scream the whole way there.” Connor’s words came as a surprise to Jack, he had always been a good friend how could he do this to him? He felt attacked and trapped, it was as if the door to his cell had been slammed shut this very moment. His mind raced as thoughts of how to get out of this arose in his mind, schemes and tricks galore danced within his imagination but a small piece of him knew better. Though he didn’t want to admit it (not even to himself) he was sick, and the only way to get better was to see a trained professional.

His mind relented and ceasing this rare moment of clarity Jack did his best to do what he knew would be best for him in the long run “I’ll do it…” There was a distinct air of defeat to jack as he uttered the simple phrase but Connor knew differently, that this was just the spark of hope that was needed to start a fire. Slowly he reached over to console his downtrodden friend, placing a sympathetic hand atop his shoulder as he did his best to comfort Jack “I’ll give you till the end of this week to put things in order. Hey, I’ll even make the last night special, I’ll take you to the pub down on Charles and we’ll get shitfaced before I bring you in, how’s that sound” Jack laughed, he let forth a small but unrestrained laugh of pure joy while clearing his eyes “Sounds like a fuckin’ plan.”