chapter six

Peter brings me some math. He says I have to do homework until school lets out. I think, That isn’t work from my school. I won’t do it.

I sit on the bed. I look at the pure white walls. I think, Get me out of here! Get me out! The words shout inside my head. I want to go home, but I don’t know how to get there. Where is my house from here?

Joe comes home from school. Peter tells him to change into his play clothes. Joe goes into his room and changes. I think, Why is he doing what they say? They aren’t his mom or dad.

Peter tells me I can come out of my room now. Joe and I go to the living room and play cards.

“You get kicked out of school?” Joe asks.

“Yeah,” I say. “I don’t care. It’s a stupid school.”

Joe says, “I used to get kicked out of school a lot. I still do, sometimes. But that’s dumb, you know. Because you fail your year.” Then he says, “The staff here are okay. Sometimes they say dumb things. I think some of the rules are stupid. I don’t want to be here forever. I want to go live with a family.”

“Don’t you have one?” I ask.

“Not a good one,” he says. “They hurt me. I want a real mom and dad—ones that care. That would be awesome.” Then Joe says another thing. “They don’t beat you up here.”

“I saw what happened to Rob last night,” I say. “And the principal did that to me this afternoon.”

“He put you in a restraint?” says Joe.

“Yeah—if that’s what you call it,” I say.

“Okay, but did he hit you?” asks Joe.

“He grabbed me and put me on the ground,” I say.

“What were you doing?” asks Joe.

I don’t say anything. I don’t want to talk about that.

“Did he hurt you?” asks Joe.

“My arms hurt after,” I say.

“Yeah,” says Joe. “They say they won’t hurt you, but sometimes they do—a little. But it isn’t the same as getting beat up. Staff don’t mean to hurt you. They’re just stopping you, that’s all.”

“Maybe,” I say. I’m not too sure about this.

We play more cards. Rob and Dave come home from school. We all wash our hands. Then we have to sit quiet on the sofa again. This is to show we’re ready to have snack. I think this is stupid, but I sit like the other boys. Then we all have apple juice and some trail mix—peanuts, raisins, and Smarties. Yummy!

Peter tells me it’s Quiet Time. That means I have to go to my room. When I’m in my room, Peter brings me some more math. I don’t want to do math. I never had to do math at my house. I’m not used to all this work. I’m not used to all these rules. There are too many staff at this group home. There are too many boys. I think, Get me out of here! Get me out!

The bubble of mad is inside me again. I pick up the math book Peter gave me. I throw it at the pure white walls. “I don’t want to do this work!” I say, real loud.

I feel the mad bubble start to grow. “No!” I yell. Inside me, the mad bubble grows and grows. “No!” I yell again.

I pick up something else and throw it. I don’t even know what it is. I pick up another thing and throw it, too.

Peter runs into the room. He grabs my arms. I think he’s going to throw me against the wall like my dad used to do. So I kick him. Peter lifts me into the air and I scream. Then he puts me down onto the bed. My face is pushed into the pillow and I can’t breathe. Peter puts my arms behind my back. Then he sits on me.

I turn my face to breathe. I yell, “Get off me!” I scream and kick. The mad bubble gets bigger and bigger. It gets so big, it blows up.

I scream when it blows up. All of the madness comes out of me. Then it goes away. After it’s gone, I lie on the bed and cry. Peter says, “It’s okay, Jason. Just cry. It’s okay to cry.”

I keep crying. I’m so scared. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know what will happen to me here. And there’s a big man sitting on me. It makes me think of my dad and how he hurt me.

Peter says, “It’s okay, Jason.” But it isn’t okay. Nothing is okay. I’m so tired from all this crying.

Peter lets go of my arms. He stands up. I don’t move. My arms are sore. My eyes hurt from crying. The bed is wet under my face. I’m tired.

I fall asleep.