HAPPY

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HAPPY

Calum

He understood now.

He understood that his father had been dyslexic, too. He understood that his mother had stayed to protect him. He understood that none of it was his fault.

He just didn't understand why.

So he asked the doctor.

Dr. Radar rubbed his chin, looking conflicted. "We won't ever know why, not for sure. We can guess, but we won't ever really know," he answered, watching Calum for his reaction.

Calum took a slow, deep breath. That's what he'd been told to do. When he didn't know how to react, the best thing to do was take a few deep breaths.

It was a few minutes before Calum could answer. "What do you think?"

Dr. Radar raised an eyebrow. "Me?"

"Yeah. Why do you think he did it?" Calum asked, taking another breath.

The doctor frowned. "Your father wasn't a very stable man, Calum. We suspect he had a mental disorder of his own, but we have no way of discovering it. At the very least, he had a complex. He was very proud of you, Calum. Your parents' hospital records show that they tried to have a son multiple times, after your older sister. And you were the only baby who survived."

Calum stopped breathing, and Dr. Radar stopped.

"Do you need to-"

Calum shook his head vigorously. "Finish," he whispered, his expression pained. "Please."

Dr. Radar eyes him warily and continued, "You were a miracle to him. He was ashamed of his own dyslexia, Calum, and when he found out you had it, I don't think he could comprehend it. You were perfect in his eyes, and here was this thing he saw as a major fundamental flaw that was, essentially, his fault. Which, I assure you, it's not. Dyslexia is not a flaw. But he saw you with what he hated in himself, and he couldn't handle it. He took it out on you, on his mother, and, we checked the morgue after he died; he took it out on himself, too. He deluded himself into thinking it was your fault, your mother's fault, and he made you kill her, pushing the blame elsewhere."

Calum felt like he wasn't breathing, although he could hear the short gasps that passed his lips. His fingers clutched the edge of the table, his knuckles white. The lights were suddenly too bright.

"I..." Calum choked on his thoughts, too many and too furious to put into words.

Dr. Radar placed a comforting hand over one of Calum's. "You are not insane. Those flashbacks, those were a result of PTSD. You're going to be alright, Calum, I promise."

Calum took time to process his words through the torrent of information he'd just received. "I'm... okay?"

"You're perfectly okay," Dr. Radar assured him. "You've done surprisingly well with drug withdrawals."

Calum shook his head. "I never craved the drugs," he muttered, looking down at his hands. "Just the escape."

Dr. Radar nodded. "As much as we understand that, it's illegal. They should be able to help you find a healthier, legal alternative escape at rehab-"

Calum's head snapped up. "Rehab? I'm..."

Dr. Radar smiled widely. "You're leaving, Calum."

Calum's eyes widened. "Oh my god."

And for the first time in years, maybe in his entire life, Calum felt happy.

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