Chapter 17

Published: 31 Jan 2022

“I think you are holding back,” Dr. Wilson said, studying Brent. “I’m not sure you are being honest about your memories. By now, you should be able to recall some of the details.”

“I honestly don’t remember,” Brent said. “I wish I did.”

Brent had been in the clinic for a couple of months now and his memory had not improved. He had tried everything to try and remember but the memories always seemed just out of reach. It had been several weeks since his mom had visited him and even longer since his dad had visited. He could tell his dad was disappointed in him, but Brent could not remember what he had done. He could remember waking up in the hospital and he could remember his dad losing his job and them moving. He knew there was a big gap between those memories. He had been trying but could not remember anything about that year or what had led up to his accident.

“What about your dreams?” she asked, looking him in his blue eyes. “Do you still not remember them?”

Brent was sitting in the soft leather chair across from Dr. Wilson. She had tried to get him to sit on the sofa next to her but Brent was not going to make that mistake again. He had done that in his early sessions with her. She always sat too close to him and Brent felt uncomfortable with the physical contact. She would often touch his arm, hand, or knee. It had gotten worse with each session so Brent had started sitting in the chair across from her rather than next to her. Even then she would often lean forward to touch his knee and the first time Brent had found his eyes looking right down her loose blouse.

“No,” he said. He could only remember the guy with brown hair and eyes. The face always seemed to elude him. Another one of his early mistakes had been confiding in Dr. Wilson about the mystery boy appearing in his dreams. That had been when his sessions had gotten worse.

“You are fighting your treatment,” Dr. Wilson said. “I think you have been spending too much time with Steven. He is a bad influence on you. He is going to require the most invasive of our treatments.”

Brent knew he did not like the sound of that. Steven still had not talked to him about what happened during his private sessions with Dr. Wilson. Brent only knew that Steven was looking more drained each time he had one of his “treatments”.

“I just feel like if I could remember, then I could give her what she wants,” Brent was telling Ned and Steven.

“She’s a sadistic bitch,” Steven said. Glancing around to make sure no one can hear them he lowers his voice. “She likes what she does. She gets off on torturing us.”

“If you would just give in to the treatment you would get better,” Ned said.

“There isn’t anything fucking wrong with me!” Steven said his voice loud in the quiet room.

“Calm down,” the attendant said, looking at Steven.

“In our last session,” Brent said, his voice soft, “She had me watching some videos.”

“That isn’t good,” Ned said.

“You won’t like what is coming next,” Steven said.

Brent wanted to get Steven to explain but their free period was over. They had to go to their daily group session. “What is coming next?” Brent asked as they were walking slowly towards the door.

“Just prepare yourself for hell,” Steven said.

After his private session with Dr. Wilson, Brent dropped down on his bed. He feels dirty after what Dr. Wilson called his treatment. She forced him to sit on the sofa and was sitting right next to him while he was looking at the magazines and watching the videos. It was gross sitting there looking at porn while she was sitting next to him.

Brent tried to block out the memories of her hand on his as he was holding the magazine. He tried to block out her voice asking him if he finds the naked women attractive. Her hand had moved from his hand to his knee and then up his leg.

“Try to block it out,” he tells himself as he gets up off the bed and begins pacing in the small room.

Brent runs his fingers through his blonde hair. He moves to the window and looks down at the small garden. He looks at the fence that surrounds the facility. “It isn’t a clinic,” he thinks, “it’s a fucking prison. If only I could remember something. If only I could remember what happened to me.”

Turning from the window, he walks to the desk. He looks at the stacks of books. The only thing he has opened are his textbooks. He never bothered to look through the other stuff his mom brought him that first week.

He picks up one of the paperback books she brought from his room. He does not remember reading it. He wonders if he has read it and just does not remember or if he has never read it. He puts it down and picks up another one. He picks up the next book. He does not remember any of them. In frustration he flings the book across the room. He then grabs the next book and throws it. Book after book fly across the room and sail against the wall. He throws each book harder than the previous book. He can hear them thudding against the wall. He grabs the heavy textbook and throws it. He reaches for another but stops when he hears a knock.

“You alright dude?” It is Steven’s voice coming from the hall outside Brent’s door.

Brent realizes that the books he had been throwing had been slamming against the wall that separated his and Steven’s rooms. He puts down the textbook and moves to the door.

“Sorry,” Brent says after pulling the door open. He can see the concern in Steven’s eyes.

Steven can see the books on the floor. “You didn’t like them?” he asks, his lips twitching in amusement.

“No,” Brent said. “I don’t know. That is the problem. I don’t remember if I have read them or not!”

“So, um just read them again,” Steven said.

“It was more fun to throw them,” Brent said.

“It sounded like it,” Steven said and tentatively gave Brent’s arm a squeeze. He quickly checked the hall to make sure they were still alone.

“Sorry if I woke you,” Brent said. “I was just pissed off at still not remembering shit.”

“No big deal,” Steven said. “I wasn’t asleep. “

Brent studied his friend’s attractive face. He could see the dark circles under the boy’s eyes. He could see the pale skin and the drawn cheeks. “You alright?” he asked, looking into Steven’s green eyes.

“Steven shrugs. “I’m fine,” he said. “Um, if you aren’t going to read them, mind if I borrow a couple?”

“Sure, as many as you want,” Brent said, moving to the books and picking them up. He then moved to the door and let Steven pick out a couple.

“I’ll just take three for now,” Steven said.

Brent looked up and down the hallway and saw that for the first time they were alone. He did not see an attendant in sight. “Steven,” Brent said, “What happens in your treatment sessions?”

Steven looked up and down the hall and then back at Brent. Steven’s tongue licks nervously across his lips. “It is perverted and humiliating,” Steven said. “Get your parents to get you out of here first.” Turning Steven goes to his room.

On his next phone call with his parents, Brent took Steven’s advice and tried to convince them to just let him come home. “I think it would help my memory and me deal with everything to come home at least for a while,” he said.

Dr. Wilson was sitting across from him. He could tell she did not look happy at his conversation. “I think it would set back your treatment,” she said.

“I think a few days might be good for him,” Linda said through the phone. “I could drive up and get him for the weekend

“It could set him back months,” Dr. Wilson said. “He’s making progress on his disorder.”

Brent stared at her. She kept telling him he was making no progress. Now she was either lying to his folks or to him. “I think being home would be good for me,” Brent said. He considered calling her out but his dad’s voice came through the phone.

“I think we need to do what Dr. Wilson says,” Richard said through the phone. “We want you cured and leaving there too soon only means that you won’t be back to normal.”

“We can revisit this in a couple of weeks,” Dr. Wilson said. “We only want Brent to get better.”

The call ended with his mom telling him she loved him. He did not remember the last time he heard his dad tell him that.

“You should discuss your treatment with me before springing it on everyone like that,” Dr. Wilson said, her eyes flashing with her annoyance.

“So, which is it,” Brent asked, his own annoyance showing. “Am I making progress or not? You tell me one thing and them another.”

“Do not take that tone with me young man,” she said.

“Why not?” Brent asked. “It is my treatment. I should deserve to know the truth. Which is it? Am I getting better or not?”

“I think your tone says it all,” she said, her red lips pursed into a thin line.

“I think this is bullshit,” Brent said

“I think you need some time alone,” she said. “Skip your free period and go to your room.”

“Great!” Brent said. He got up and stomped from the room. He slammed her office door behind him as he strides out and down the hall.

Brent startles awake. He was having a dream about the boy again. He was so close to remembering. He could feel the memory there just at the tip of his mental fingertips. He knows if he could just stretch a little more, he would be able to grab the memory and pull it into his mind. Brent hears the soft tapping again. That was the sound that had woken him up. He waits and hears it a third time.

“Brent,” Steven says, his voice barely a whisper.

Getting from bed, Brent moves barefoot to the door. He does not turn on a light. He does not want the light to shine into the hallway when he opens the door. Pulling the door open he finds Steven crouched down in the shadow between the rooms. Brent pulls the door open and lets the boy slip into his room.

“If we get caught,” Brent said, softly closing the door behind him, “we are going to be in trouble.”

“Maybe they will throw us out,” Steven said.

“Hell could we be that lucky?” Brent said and they both laughed softly.

Steven’s eyes slid over Brent’s body. He could not stop himself from looking at the boy standing there in only briefs. Brent’s fair skin seemed to glow in the light coming in from the window.

The two of them moved away from the door and sat on Brent’s bed. “Why are you risking both of us getting into trouble?” Brent asked. They were both barely whispering.

Steven had pulled on shorts and a t-shirt before sneaking over to Brent’s room. He was now almost wishing he had risked coming over in only his underwear. He could not help but wonder if they were both almost naked if more might happen than just talking. Steven adjusted his position so that his bare leg rubbed against Brent’s. The physical contact, sending surges into his stomach. “Fuck you Dr. Wilson,” he thought. “This is just as normal as the shit you are trying to force on me. No, this is more normal.”

Brent felt a tingle as Steven’s bare skin brushed his. He liked Steven well enough. He even thought the guy was cute but his feelings did not go past being friends. “Steven,” Brent prompted.

Steven pushed down his feelings to focus on why he had risked coming to Brent’s room. “I was reading the books you gave me,” Steven said. “I found this inside one of them.” Steven hands the picture to Brent.

Brent looks at it. The face looking back at him is familiar. The soft brown eyes like pools of dark chocolate, the brown hair, and the way it falls over the boy’s eyes. Brent cannot see the golden flecks in the picture but he knows that those golden flecks are there in the chocolate eyes.

“He’s really cute,” Steven said. “Do you remember him?”

I, I,” Brent stammers. He can feel emotions boiling inside him. “The mall, it was taken at the mall.” Brent said his voice growing excited as the memories start to surface. It had been during that Christmas trip to the mall. He and Devyn were buying presents for their girlfriends. They had run into Matt and Bryan. For Brent it was as though the flood gate holding back his memories opened. The feelings for Devyn, the time they spent together. He was remembering it all. Tears began to leak from his eyes as he relived the events. He was remembering that first camping trip when they had ejaculated together. He could remember the nights of masturbating each other. He could once again feel Devyn’s arms and lips. “How could I have forgotten?” echoed in his mind.

“You alright?” Steven asked concerned. Leaning closer he places a hand on Brent’s bare leg. “Is he important to you?”

“I remember him,” Brent said, his blue eyes shining in the dim light. “I remember I love him.” For Brent it was though he was reliving every moment of his and Devyn’s relationship. He was feeling again each touch, every caress, and the passion in every one of their kisses. In moments, the memories of months were flooding his mind. He could not believe he had forgotten the most important person in his life.

“He’s your boyfriend?” Steven asked.

“He was,” Brent said. Along with all the good memories of Devyn came the dreaded memory. He and Devyn being caught by Frank and how Brent had reacted.

“I knew he was important,” Steven said. “I read the back.”

Brent turned the picture over and read the familiar handwriting. “Keep me close to your heart because that is where I’ll keep you. Love Devyn”. Tears slid down Brent’s face as he held the picture. He could not believe he had forgotten Devyn. “He was the most important person in my life,” Brent said.

“Do you remember everything?” Steven asked.

Brent could remember the important events. He could remember Devyn’s smell, his touch, his kiss and even his taste. “I remember the important stuff,” he said.

“Do you remember the accident?” Steven asked.

“No,” Brent said. “But I remember Devyn. I will not let them take those memories away again. Not Dr. Wilson and not my parents.” Brent’s voice was forceful. His mind had at least been made up.

“Are you going to be alright?” Steven asked, seeing the tears sliding down Brent’s face.

“I don’t know,” Brent answered. “Thank you,” he said looking at Steven. “Thank you for finding the key.” On impulse Brent leans closer and hugs Steven.

Steven is surprised but returns the hug. His slender arms holding Brent and feeling Brent’s bare skin. “I’m glad I was able to help.” Steven can feel his body starting to respond to the physical contact. He had not been touched like this for months. At least not from someone that genuinely cared for him and he believes Brent does care for him. They might just be friends but that is more than he had had since being forced into the clinic. “I just hope I did not make things worse for you.”

“You didn’t,” Brent said, hugging Steven tighter for a moment and then releasing the slender boy. “It makes everything better. I know who I am again. I know what I am. I’m gay and there is not a fucking thing wrong with me. Thank you for giving him back to me. You have no idea how it helps. How it completes me to have those memories again.”

“This guy must be someone special,” Steven said. “I hope I can meet him.”

“He is special,” Brent said. “He’s the best part of me.”

“You are developing quite the attitude,” Dr. Wilson said during one of their afternoon private sessions. “I do not like this new attitude of yours.”

Brent wanted to tell her to fuck off but Steven had warned him about being too aggressive with Dr. Wilson. The problem was he did not know how much more of the mind games he could take. The coffee table in her office was covered with an array of dirty magazines. Brent had been forced to look at them all. She particularly liked him to look at the ones with two women.

“Nothing to say for yourself?” she asked after the long silence.

“Just send me home as I am,” Brent said. “I’m a lost cause.”

“No,” she said, her smile sending a shiver up Brent’s back. “You are just going to need a more intense course of treatment. I think we will start it tomorrow.”

“Then I’m free to go,” he said standing up.

“I suggest you leave your attitude in your room tomorrow,” she said. “I will fix your disorder one way or another.”

Brent spun leaving the room. He could not stand this woman. He had investigated a way to escape but could not find a way passed security.

He had softly mentioned security and a possible escape to Steven and Ned. “I have got to get out of here,” he told them both. “I just haven’t seen a way out.”

“Security is intense,” Steven said.

“It’s for our own protection,” Ned said.

“Bull shit,” Steven said. “Nothing here is for us. Everything is for them. For them to think they are curing us. It is for them to make big bucks off our families.”

“But” Ned started.

“He’s right Ned,” Brent said. “This place can’t fix us because there is nothing wrong. It is a fucking prison and Steven is right. We are just money to them. It is a way for them to milk our families or our insurance companies because of our so-called mental disorders. We all need to get out of here.”

“I want out just as much as you do,” Steven said. “I’ll keep looking for a way out.”

“You guys are going to make it worse on yourself,” Ned said.

“Maybe,” Steven said. “But at least we are trying.”

“I just want to get better,” Ned said.

“You can buy into this bullshit if you want,” Steven said and then his green eyes narrowed, focusing on Ned, “You had better not rat us out though.”

“I won’t,” Ned said, looking away from Steven’s stoney gaze. “If I see a way, I’ll let you guys know.”

“Thanks Ned,” Brent said. Brent thought Ned would be alright if he were outside the clinic and allowed to be his own person. Brent can tell Ned is just weak and not able to stand up to Dr. Wilson or his family. Brent understands that. He had been there too. He had been there and allowed them to take the love and compassion from his life. He would not allow it again. He would not bow down to Dr. Wilson or his parents. He was ready to run-away from the clinic and from his dad and mom.

Brent’s memories of Devyn were becoming more intense. He still had a big gap but at least for now he had Devyn back. “I won’t let anyone take him from me again,” Brent vowed.

“How was your first session?” Steven asked. He could see the lines around Brent’s eyes. He had some idea what he had been forced to do.

The three boys are in the game room during their free time. They were sitting at the card table playing but also trying to talk without being overheard. The attendant was closely monitoring them for any ‘inappropriate activity’.

“It was humiliating,” Brent said. “I hate her. I hate this place. I’m going to go crazy here.”

“Keep your voice down,” Ned said, glancing at the attendant.

“I know,” Steven said. He wanted to reach out and touch Brent. He wanted to reassure his friend that it could be endured, but Steven knew he could not comfort his friend. They were being watched even more closely.

“You need to just accept the program,” Ned said.

“No, he doesn’t,” Steven countered. “Just because they broke you…”

“They did not,” Ned said. “They are fixing me.”

“Voices gentleman,” the attendant said looking at the three of them.

“We can talk later,” Steven said, as he was looking into Brent’s blue eyes.

“We are going to have to not be seen together so much,” Steven said to Brent when they were alone. Steven had started sneaking over to Brent’s room. He had figured out the patrol schedule and could slip in and out without being caught. He knew to keep low enough to not be seen by the cameras. “We got lucky here,” Steven told Brent on his third nighttime visit. “There is only that one camera and it doesn’t have a good angle to cover our end of the hall.”

“Plus, you moved that plant,” Brent said. “It blocks the line of sight.”

Steven had moved it slowly over a week. One little bit at a time. He knew a big move would be noticed but maybe not if it had been done slowly.

“How have you handled this for so long?” Brent asked his friend. Their voices were barely above a whisper as they sat together on Brent’s bed. They sat there, side by side with their bare legs touching. Steven’s hand lightly rested on Brent’s upper leg as he tried to comfort his friend.

“What are they doing to you?” Steven asked, giving Brent’s leg what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze.

“It is so humiliating,” Brent said.

“Just don’t respond to the pictures of the naked guys,” Steven said. “They can make it painful if you do.”

“I try not to respond to any of it,” Brent said. “I can’t stand it sitting there watching porn with her sitting next to me on the sofa.”

“I know,” Steven said. “I wish I could say it won’t get worse but it will.”

“When she touches me, it makes my skin crawl.” Brent shutters at the memory of Dr. Wilson’s hand on his bare skin.

“I think it is how she gets off,” Steven said. “She is the one that is perverted.”

“Yeah,” Brent agreed. “She should be in a hospital for HER disorder.”

The two giggled softly there in the dark. The only light was that coming through the window.

The days passed and Brent’s treatment got worse. He was losing his appetite and not talking as much to Ned or Steven. All he can think about is how badly he wants out of the place.

The group sessions had even gotten more explicit. Dr. Wilson was encouraging everyone to discuss masturbation. She wanted them to share with the group what they were thinking about while masturbating.

“Who talks about this stuff,” Brent asked Steven during their free period.

“Well guys do talk sometimes,” Steven said.

“Yeah, but not like that,” Brent said. “Not with her sitting there.”

“It probably makes her all wet thinking about all of us teenage boys sitting there masturbating,” Steven said.

“Ick,” Brent said. “But I think you are right.”

Brent knew he was going to keep searching for a way out. He could not endure the torture of Dr. Wilson and the clinic much longer. He just needed to survive it until he could either escape or get his parents to take him home.

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