One hour later, I was soon settling into my private hospital room- a stark and bland room with a single bed, a dresser, a desk that had a thick notebook and a Bible, and a sitting area- as Addison filled me in on the schedules and rules for Bellevue patients. "Breakfast is at dawn, lunch's at high noon, and dinner's at six. First-come, first served unless you are too ill to join the others. You're to eat with either myself or the guys as well so we can make sure that you're not purging. Same is for your medication," she told me. "Speaking of which, Dr. Melendez has you on lithium to manage your moods as well as weight-gain pills to add some meat to your bones and even some hypnocil."

I nodded. "Sounds groovy," I commented.

"Anyway, you're also to be on a strict diet to not only add some meat and fat to your bones," Addison went on. "Your chart showed that you are borderline underweight."

I harrumphed. "Try telling that to my ex-mother, who often saw me as either too fat, too skinny, or just plain 'meh.' Come to think of it, Sheila, Kendra, and my sisters all saw me as 'meh' while my brothers just thought I was a drenched rat that needed to be put down."

Addison frowned. "Sheesh," she muttered. "They really are a piece of work."

"Tell me something I don't know."

After a further run-down of what's expected (different activities and amenities, mandatory group-therapy sessions, and resources), it was time for me to meet with Dr. Melendez as Oliver himself had the honor to lead me to the office. "Dr. Melendez is well-respected here," he said as we passed by random patients, doctors, and visitors. "He has a way of seeing right through people and can make them open up to just about anyone."

"Sounds like you had some experience," I noted.

"More than you think since Carter and I were admitted back in high school."

I faced him. "Wait, you and your brother were here?"

Oliver nodded. "We were suffering from burnout and victims of being our parent's guinea pigs for cocaine," he explained. "Carter's road was more easier than mine was since I had some other mental scars to deal with."

"Damn."

He nodded before giving me a pointed glare. "Rule of thumb around here, kid. Dr. Melendez, alongside a few others, doesn't like swearing of any kind," he intoned. "You have your emotions and all, but it's best to keep the foul language to a minimum."

"Right," I breathed. "Sorry."

All too soon, we arrived at Dr. Melendez's office. We stepped in as I took in the warm and sunny atmosphere. The man was sitting behind a large oak desk similar to the one in Clifford's office back at Sutton Place. In front of the desk were a pair of leather chairs while a sitting area had two more chairs as well as a coffee table in the middle. He also had a couple of in-wall bookshelves that had the usual medical encyclopedias as well as some random books. The scents of cinnamon and honey tickled my nose.

"Ke'Andre and Oliver, you're right on time," the man said as he got up from his desk chair and motioned for me and the orderly to join him at the sitting area. To me, "I take it that Addison has filled you in on everything?"

I nodded, taking a seat next to the window while Oliver stood watch behind me. "She did," I assured him.

"Then I assume that you're going to take this opportunity to let yourself be healed. We all meant what we said, young man. You have been denied everything no thanks to your family, your ex-girlfriend, and Miss Beckham. You deserve to have it all back and then some."

I inhaled sharply. "Let's just hope that you're not going to end up like those so-called quacks who said that I only brought this on myself for not trying hard enough."

That caught Oliver's attention, as did my therapist. "What makes you say that?" the former asked.

"All throughout middle and high school, Clifford and Monica all but feared that I would somehow try and deviate from their plans and would have their team of therapists try and coax me into admitting that I wasn't enough and bullied me into accepting that my now-former parents were breaking me down so they could build me into their 'perfect child,'" I explained. "They would have me tell them about my day, what feelings I would have against my peers, teachers, or even Sheila and Kendra while telling me that I should be more like my family's example."

"They're your family, young man. It's your duty to do what's best for the name."

"Your mother and father only want what's best for you. You owe it to them to give up your desires and make them happy by following your brothers and sisters."

"It's all about appearances, Ke'Andre. All eyes are on your family and they expect you to try and fall in line. You have to want to succeed if you want to make it on your own."

"Don't you think that your petty ideals can be placed on the back burner to follow the American dream? I'm sure that you can find a few things that you can give up and replace them what can help you in the long run."

"It was me who had to give up all that I had to make everyone happy while everyone else got to dance through life without a worry or care other than finding some new trend to follow," I went on, accepting a glass of water. "Thing is, though, I would try to see the light at the end of the tunnel until the rules of the game kept changing on me more than Andre changed his underwear and his women all in one week. If not for that, Sheila kept gaslighting me on how I just need to try and try harder."

"The game of life's always going to be unfair, Lemonade. Nothing lasts forever these days and your parents want to prepare you for every situation, even if they have to be bad guys. Nothing you present nowadays isn't good enough anymore. You have to keep pushing and sacrificing all your dreams and fall in line with the times. If not, you might as well settle for being in the bottom rung of the ladder."

"Answer this question, Ke'Andre," Dr. Melendez intoned, leaning forward and staring deep into my eyes. "If you could be reborn into your parents' ideal child, wwould things be the same or would you finally be respected?"

I snorted. "Honestly? I don't think that things would ever change," I interjected. "If anything, everyone would just amplify their demands and expect me to give and give until I have nothing left and I'm at death's door. And even then, they would demand more and more until they're all plump and ripe from eating me alive."

I sat back, the look on the older man's face and Oliver's being priceless. After a few uncomfortable minutes of silence, Dr. Melendez cleared his throat. "Let's just stop for the day," he suggested. "Ke'Andre Lemmons, you got a LONG road of healing ahead of you. And it's all the more reason why you're going to need to be open with all of us here more than ever."

I nodded just as Carter arrived with Addison and another female nurse following suit. "I guess I can head to my room to rest," I began.

"It's time for arts and crafts," Addison pointed out.

"Melina, can you take Ke'Andre over to Room 303?" Dr. Melendez asked the other female nurse. "I need to meet with Carter, Addison, and Oliver for a while."

The olive-skinned female nurse nodded as I dutifully followed her out of the room. I didn't know what the four of them were going to talk about, but I didn't care at this point. I said what I said and I meant it. My life sucked donkey balls no thanks to my ex-family, Kendra, and Sheila And the first chance I got, I was going to end it all on my terms...and succeed.

Damn! Ke'Andre's being candid, isn't he? Well, he's getting open and honest about everything while making plans for his final exodus. But maybe a new face will arrive and start changing things, don't you agree? Anyway, the next chapter features artistic dreams being reignited after being deferred for far too long. Stay tuned!

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