Therapy - Septiplier

Three

Jack sat in between Cry and Phil, Dan on the other side of Phil as the other patients pulled up chairs to create a circle. The community meeting was about to begin, but most of them remained silent as they waited. Jack couldn't help but feel the depression radiating off the group. It sent anxious chills down his spine and he chewed his lower lip as the main staff member who started the meetings sat down and eyed the group, taking note of who was here and checking their names off on his clip board.

"Who would like to start today?" The man, John, asked the group and Cry's hand shot straight up in the air. "Alright, Cry."
"Hi, I'm Cry," He introduced himself, a few murmured responses rose afterwards, greeting him. "I'm feeling pretty happy today and my goal is to help my new friend, Sean, feel more comfortable in group."
"That's a great goal, who would you like to go next?" John asked, pleased that Cry seemed so happy and was willing to help bring Jack out of his shell, since the staff members never could.
"I'd say Sean, but he doesn't speak," Cry pouted and John tugged a small notebook and pen out, getting up and giving it to Jack.
"You can write it down and let Cry read it for you, I had been meaning to get that to you anyhow to help you communicate," John explained and Jack nodded, writing down the information he realized he had to spill before passing it to Cry.

"This is Sean," Cry introduced him. Again, the same monotoned 'Hello' echoed off the group. "He's feeling a little down and his goal is to attend all groups."
"Thank you, Sean," John smiled and looked to Phil.
"Hi, I'm Phil and I'm feeling good because I made a new friend today," He turned and smiled at Jack. "My goal is to work on my safety plan tonight for when I go home."
"I'm Dan, I'm feeling neutral today, and my goal is to go to bed early so I don't miss OT tomorrow," Dan went next and they went through the whole group fairly quickly. Before Jack knew it, it was lunch time and the cart carrying the trays of food was wheeled out.

Cry tugged him along to get himself some food, Dan and Phil following them. Jack's heart was racing at the thought of being confronted with food. He felt he couldn't handle it, but was handed a tray with a receipt that had his name on it, which was taken by one of the nurses, and he sat with his new friends at one of the tables in the lounge.
"Their taco salad is so good," Cry grinned and started eating.
"The pizza is better," Phil argued, Dan rolling his eyes.
"All the food's pretty gross, it's hospital food after all," He pointed out and Jack felt sick to his stomach. Dan noticed and turned to him. "Aren't you gonna eat?"
No response.
"You should try to eat something, but don't feel pressured. It's okay if you don't, we just don't want to see you waste away. We like you, man," Phil added and Jack looked down to his tray.

How can they like me? They don't even know me. They don't know what happened or the disgusting things I've done. They would hate me if they ever found out.

"Hey, you got a cheese pizza, it doesn't look too bad, you should have just a little bite," Cry pitched in. "But like Phil said, don't feel too pressured, we just care about you."
"I know we don't know much about you, but we can tell you're a gentle soul and you seem nice, even though you don't speak. I'm a pretty good judge of character," Dan said and Jack gave him a weak smile and contemplated eating for the first time since he got there. He had tried to eat at first, but eventually the pain took over and made him lose his appetite. He sighed internally and carried his tray back to the cart and found a place to put it before sitting back down with his new friends. He tried listening to their humorous banter, but his mind was beginning to get carried away. He thought about Felix and how worried he's been ever since he was admitted a few days ago. He hadn't been allowed to visit during the week, but could visit now that it was Saturday. Jack hoped he didn't have to stay long, so he could stop worrying his best friend.

"Who hurt you?" He heard Cry ask him, but his voice sounded muffled and distorted, so he gave him a confused look and he repeated himself. "I asked how are you. You started spacing out."

I'm drowning.

He shrugged his shoulders and tried to ignore what he thought Cry said the first time. He felt he was becoming paranoid, figuring Cry couldn't possibly have known what had happened to him. He didn't know about the man who hurt him or the hours of torture he faced. He didn't know that the man promised to see him again in a low whisper right before he ran. He didn't know about the rough fingers that circled around his throat and left bruises all over his skin. He didn't know about the violence, the brutal rapes, or the disgusting words that came out of this man who had hurt him beyond repair. He didn't know how broken Jack was and he intended on keeping it that way.

Please stay away from me.
I'm sorry, please don't hurt me.
Don't touch me.
Stop hurting me.
Get away from me.
I'm calling the cops.
Please go away.
I can't take this anymore.
Someone, please help me!
Please stop!
Stop!
Ow.
Please, stop, you're hurting me.
Leave me alone!

You're beautiful.
If you hold still, it won't hurt as much.
How can I not touch you?
You feel so good.
But I want to get closer.
The cops won't help you.
I can't leave you.
Just try to relax...
Stop screaming!
No.
I'll never stop.
I love the way you feel.
You'll learn to love the pain.
I'll see you again soon, Jack.