Carter Andrews was your normal ‘good guy’ teenager. Always got the right grades, had the right group of friends, he had it all. Yeah, he wasn’t the most popular guy in school, or the guy all the ladies wanted all the time, but he was happy with his life. He loved the things he did, the people he had around him, especially his best friend Devon. Devon had been Carter’s best friend since he was 5 years old. The two were inseparable. They did everything together. They had the same friends, went to the same parties, they were practically attached at the hip. You could never have one without the other.
Everyone in the small town they lived in knew about ‘the weird kid’. He was new, no one knew who he was and he refused to befriend anyone, no matter how nice they were. Carter and Devon were sitting in their Senior English class, talking, laughing, just having a good time like they did every day. Until, from the back of the room, there was a loud pop and a scream. Everyone turned their eyes to the back of the room to be faced with a gun in their faces. Everyone quickly jumped under their desks, including Carter. Devon stood up, trying to do the ‘right thing’ and talk the boy down, even with a gun just inches away from his face. Carter did his best to get his friend to step down and do what he said. Just then the door burst open, the school’s police officer coming in to see what was happening. The boy took one look at the cop before turning his attention back to the boy and shot him. Square in the chest. He then ran to the door, trying to escape.
Carter, mortified at the sight, ran to his friend’s side, his head cradled gently in his lap. He kept repeating the same phrases over and over again, ‘It’s okay, Dev. You’ll be fine. Stay with me Dev.’ But it wasn’t enough. By the time the medics arrived to help him, he was gone. Carter was completely destroyed. For months, he had counseling at the school that was provided, but none of it really helped. To him, talking about it made things worse. Until eventually, he decided to take matters into his own hands and self medicate. With alcohol.
He broke into his parents liquor cabinet and just drank. He didn’t care what it was, as long as it got him smashed to the point he forgot his own name. It seemed to work for a while. It made him forget the image of the gun pointed at his friend, the blood that surrounded him, that soaked his own hands, the light leaving his best friend’s eyes. His family started noticing his behavior spiraling out of control. He didn’t thinking he had a problem until one night he was talking with his younger sister, drunk out of his mind, and they got into an argument. He got heated and ended up hitting her. He realized that he needed help and sent himself to Bayshore, looking for the help that he realized that he needed.
What brings you here, Carter?
Do you think your behavior is becoming a problem?
“Yeah, I didn’t used to, though.”
“Where do you think your behavior branched from?
“I know exactly where It branched from. It helped he to forget and feel okay again. And I wanted to keep that feeling.”
