𝐈𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (Completed)

27. R O A D TO R E C O V E R Y

C H A C E'S P.O.V

I'm almost done completing my treatment. I can't say I have fully recovered as I believe, I'm still walking down that road of self-discovery.
If I have to compare myself to how I was a few weeks back, In a way I surely have improved.

I'm starting to see the world from a much brighter perspective. I'm able to understand the world is made up of all kinds of people, you can't change them but you can change yourself.

I have changed in terms of thinking. I finally stopped wallowing in self pity, feeling sorry for myself. Vihaan often quotes "If you keep thinking about the past, you will never be able to move on."

I stopped thinking about how messy my childhood was. My parents are out of the picture, I no longer have sleepless nights and I am planning to join the University of Lorensville to do a course in Clinical Psychology. I want to help those who come from similar backgrounds like I do and spread the learning I have inculcated from Vihaan.

Vihaan is like the father I have never had. If there is one thing I have learnt from him, it would be patience. Having spent a lot of my time with him, I have learnt to accept things the way they are. Sometimes, things happen and don't happen for a reason, situations may not necessarily be under our control, that doesn't mean it is the end of the world.

Sure I may have my moments where I feel ideologies like these are stupid, deep down I know it's right.

"Dude!"

Caleb jogs in, panting heftily. Caleb is one of my good friends who lives next to me. His life story is as messed up as mine. He comes from a wealthy family, but his parents never paid much attention to him. His mother committed suicide when he was an eight year old. The cause of her death remains to be unknown, but he suspects it could've been due to depression. His father's business started to spiral downwards after his company ran into a serious financial crisis.

Soon, his father started abusing drugs and alcohol, eventually falling to his death from the sixth floor of their balcony. It was Vihaan who took Caleb under his wing, raising him up like his own son. Caleb had his share of ups and downs, battled addiction and has been sober for almost four years now.

"You coming down to the ring, right?"

"Caleb, if you walk in without knocking"-

"It's about to start!"

I roll my eyes and chuckle under my breath. Caleb is like a brother to me. We always have each other's backs. Infact, he was of tremendous help to help me kick my smoking habit, replacing it with martial arts. He is like a panther in the ring.

Apart from Caleb, I have come across and interacted with like minded individuals who are extremely welcoming. Now that I am comfortable to being open, I joined group therapy sessions where all of us talk about what we have learnt when we first started our treatment.

Thursday nights, we often hold mini contests at the gym, pretending to compete against each other, similar to a UFC fight on T.V. We make sure we are all wearing mouth guards and head gears to protect from getting injured, although it isn't a serious fight.

It is way better than sitting in your room watching reruns of The Shooter while smoking cigarettes and drinking beer. Slipping into my gloves, I'm up against Nick Olson, who was once a heroin addict and almost killed a man.

"You ready, Ken face?" He sneers, cracking his knuckles. A whistle blows from the crowd accumulating the gym, cheers getting louder.

Attempting to throw a jab for my skull, I immediately duck down and spin kick his shin, making sure the impact is hard enough. He falls to the ground, groaning in frustration.

Like a terrier, he gets up and raises his leg aiming it for my stomach. Looping my arm under his thigh, with my free hand shoving and push him to the ground, putting him under the rear neck choke. I don't squeeze much but the impact is irresistible, he taps twice, I let loose.

"What are you, raised by a family of ninjas?" Nick pants, sitting down to sip water. I make room for myself and sit next to him, removing my head gear. I shake my head as my hair covers my eyes.

We both give ourselves a few minutes to get our breathing back to normal, before going for another round. "Guys!" Michael comes running towards us with a concerned expression on his face. Michael is a suicide survivor, battling depression since he was thirteen years old. His eyes are misty.

"Woah , woah , what's going on?" I ask, giving his shoulder a squeeze. Michael sniffs, I can tell he is finding it difficult to say what he has to say. "Easy. Is everything alright?"

Michael's head hangs loose. "I... I couldn't..."

Nick, Caleb and I both look at each other in confusion. Everyone present in the gym stops what they are doing, crowding around us. "Michael," my voice is low. "Did something happen to you?"

"No... Not to me... But to him," tears spill from his eyes, my jaw tenses. "What do you mean by 'Him'?"

Michael's breathing is ragged, not knowing how to process and speak out his thoughts. I bet it must be something serious, I'm not liking the smell of it. I take a step forward.

"It's... It's Tristan... man..." his voice shakes. "It's Tristan... I ... I couldn't stop him!" He lurches forward, hurrying his face into my chest. Michael is crying as if his heart is about to shatter into millions of pieces. I swallow.

"What a-about Tristan? Did he do something to you?" My voice is laced with concern.

Michael raises his head to meet my gaze, shaking it vigorously. His face is wet. "It's all my fault, man." Suddenly, everything makes perfect sense. I take a look Michael's shirt, a white stain situated on the corner.

"Tristan... h-he..." sniffing and wiping his eyes with his shirt, he stares at the ground.

"Tristan isn't waking up...I couldn't stop him!"