See Me(30)

“Just like that?”

“It wasn’t quite as easy as it sounds, but yeah… just like that.”

“People don’t usually change.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“Still…”

“Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not trying to make excuses for what I did. Regardless of what the doctors said about whether or not I could actually control my behavior, I knew I was messed up, and I didn’t give a damn about getting better. Instead, I smoked pot and drank and trashed my parents’ house and wrecked cars and I got arrested over and over for fighting. For a long time, I just didn’t care about anything other than partying the way I wanted to.”

“And now you care?”

“I care a lot. And I don’t have any intention of going back to my old life.”

He felt her eyes on him, and sensed her trying to reconcile the past he’d described with the man before her. “I can understand the anger disorder, but PTSD?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“Do you really want to hear this? It’s kind of a long story.” When she nodded, he went on. “Like I told you, I was a bit of a problem child, and by the time I was eleven, I was pretty much uncontrollable. In the end, my parents shipped me off to military school, and the first one I attended was just a bad place. There was this weird Lord of the Flies mentality among the upperclassmen, especially when someone new arrived. At first, it was little things – typical hazing kind of stuff, like taking my milk or dessert in the cafeteria, or making me shine their shoes or make their beds while another guy went over and trashed my room, which I’d have to clean before inspection. No big deal – every newbie goes through that kind of stuff. But some of these guys were different… just sadistic. They’d whip me with wet towels after I showered, or they’d sneak up behind me while I was studying and throw a blanket over me, and just start beating the crap out of me. After a while, they started to do that at night, when I was sleeping. Back then, I was kind of small for my age, and I made the mistake of crying a lot, which only amped them up even more. It’s like I became their special project. They’d come for me two or three nights a week, always with the blanket, always with the punches, just beating the crap out of me while telling me that I’d be dead before the year was up. I was pretty freaked out, on edge all the time. I would try to stay awake and flinch at the slightest noise, but it’s not like I could avoid sleeping. They’d bide their time and wait until I was out. That kind of crap went on for months. I still have nightmares about it.”

“Did you tell anyone?”

“Of course I did. I told everyone I could. I told the commander, my teachers, the counselor, even my parents. None of them believed me. They kept telling me to stop lying and whining and just toughen up.”

“That’s awful —”

“No question. I was just a little kid, but after a while, I figured I had to get out of there, or they’d take it too far one day, so I ended up taking matters into my own hands. I smuggled in some spray paint and went to town in the administration building. I ended up getting kicked out, which was exactly what I wanted.” He drew a long breath. “Anyway, they ended up closing the school a couple of years later, after the local paper did an exposé on the place. A kid died there. A little kid, my age. I wasn’t one of the students mentioned in the exposé, but it was national news for a while. Criminal and civil charges, the whole works. Some people ended up in prison over it. And my parents felt terrible after that, because they hadn’t believed me. I think that’s why they put up with me for so long after I graduated. Because they still felt guilty.”

“So after you were expelled…”

“I went to another military school and swore to myself that I’d never let myself get beaten up again. In the future, I’d be the one throwing the first punch. So I learned to fight. I studied it, practiced it. And after that, if someone ever grabbed me, I’d just… lose it. It was like I was a little kid again. I got expelled over and over, barely made it through, and after I graduated, it sort of snowballed from there. Like I said, I used to be pretty messed up.” He took a few steps in silence. “Anyway, all that came into play during the court proceedings.”

“How do you get along with your parents right now?”

“Like my sisters, it’s a work in progress. Right now, they have a restraining order against me.”

A stunned expression crossed her face and he went on.

“I was arguing with my parents the night before I went to Arizona and I ended up pinning my dad against the wall. I wasn’t going to hurt him and I kept telling him that – I just wanted them to listen to me – but it scared the hell out of my parents. They didn’t press charges – or I wouldn’t be here – but they did get a court order that prohibits me from being at their house. They don’t necessarily enforce it now, but it’s still in place, probably to keep me from ever thinking about moving back in.”

She studied him. “I still don’t understand how you can just… change. I mean, what if you get angry again?”

“I still get angry. Everyone does. But I’ve learned different ways to cope with it. Like not going to bars or doing drugs, and I never have more than a couple of beers when I’m with my friends. And being really physical every day – training hard, pushing myself – helps keep my moods in check. I also learned a lot of helpful things at the hospital, different ways to cope. The whole experience ended up being one of the better things I’ve ever done.”