Link: The Road to Hell Title Page and Description

CAUTION - Attempted Suicide
CAUTION - Highly Emotional Content
CAUTION - Intense scenes involving a minor

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A month to the day after the accident, Josh went back to school. He walked into the building dressed in a black skirt, top, tights, and flats. He also carried the black backpack that Grace had used for the last three years, the same one he'd had before her. Judy let him keep it as a memento of their love, along with a few other things. He'd asked about the carving he'd given her for her sixteenth birthday, but Judy told him she'd been buried holding it, unwilling to make her daughter ever part with the gift she'd loved nearly as much as Josh himself.

Not even looking at the other students, he never saw their looks of sorrow, regret, or guilt, nor heard the solemn greetings and condolences of passers-by who hadn't spoken to him in years, if ever. He didn't care. Figuring that if they hadn't been good enough to be friendly to him before, he didn't see what difference Grace being dead mattered. He hated them all.

He wasn't interested in their pity. To his way of thinking, they'd had years to be nice. That they felt sorry for him because he nearly died and his best and only friend and love did die, meant that their feelings weren't genuine. Nobody is my friend. he told himself. It's just better that way. Only horrible things happen to people who are friends with a freak like me! The boy in the skirt!

Going through the morning, he got a month of back work and meaningless condolences from his teachers and a wide berth from his fellow students. As the day progressed, fewer people tried to extend the hand of friendship as word got around that he was being completely anti-social. When at last lunch came, he sat at the same table that he and Grace had eaten at for three years, now eating there truly alone. Just as he was about to finish and leave, he heard someone sit beside him.

"Hey." Tracy said glumly. "I'd say welcome back, but I can see you're still not feeling any better."

Sighing as he finished his last bite, he looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time in years. She'd grown up, just as he had. Her chocolate brown hair had a natural curl that made for a pretty 'frizzy' style, and her athletic tone from cheerleading made her slim and attractive. Her hazel eyes stood in contrast to her fair skin, making them seem big and beautiful. She's really changed. he mused.

Looking down at his tray, his lips narrowed to a thin line. "Aren't you afraid to be seen with the freak, Trace? What would your captain Kelly Brooks say? You might get thrown off the squad just for talking to me!" he growled in a tone that was far too feminine for his mood.

"Joss!" Tracy whined. "Come on! You are not a freak! You're like my sister! Besides, Kelly can't throw me off the squad, even if she wanted to, which she doesn't!" Pausing and seeing Josh's mood unchanged, she tried to reach out to him once more. "After... well... after the Prom, a bunch of us got together, including Kelly, and talked about how bad we all felt about how we treated you and Grace. We all just kind of snubbed you two all through school, and now... now Grace is gone and you... you're hurt, not just from the accident, but from what we did. What I'm trying to say is that we're all sorry, most especially me. I should have known better. You were my BFF!"

Getting up and then glaring down at her, Josh's stare could have welded steel. "I don't need your pity, Trace!" he shouted loud enough for the entire room to go quiet. "You all had years to realize what bitches you were being to me and Grace! Now that Grace is dead... you want forgiveness? Screw you! It's too late! She's dead! You don't get any forgiveness 'cuz she's not here to give it to you, so you sure as hell aren't getting any from me!"

Still not done, Josh let her have both barrels. "You just want me to forgive you so you don't feel bad for how you all treated us like shit all these years! Well, you don't deserve forgiveness! You've done nothing to undo the five years of abject humiliation you put me through! I hope it eats you alive, Trace! Just leave me alone!"

Stomping off, he threw his tray at the garbage can, bouncing off the rim to fall to the floor with a loud clatter as he stormed out the door, leaving a room full of students feeling guilt and shame for their own actions toward the two. In the middle of it all, Tracy began to sob.

Going to his and Grace's spot, he saw two girls he'd hoped never to run into again, Karen and Lucy, sitting there apparently waiting for him. Moving in on them like a hurricane, they didn't even get a chance to say whatever they wanted before he laid into them. "What do you two bitches want? To beg forgiveness for snubbing me ever since Jenn left and blaming me for her trying to kill herself?" He continued with a similar litany that he'd doled out to Tracy until the two left in tears.

Sitting down on the spot he and Grace spent so many hours, Josh tried to imagine her sitting next to him. Grace? I... I know I'm being a total jerk, but I can't let anyone get close to me ever again. he spoke his thoughts to the universe. Everything ends... and friendship quickest of all. Even yours. I know you didn't want to go, but neither did Jenn. So now I'm left here all alone and I won't let anyone else I care about get hurt like that ever again!

When lunch ended, Josh repeated the morning procedure with his afternoon classes. After the bell rang and he started his walk home, he heard someone running up behind him. His fury pressed to its limits, he spun around and turned his ire toward whoever it was that was about to confront him.

"Jocelyn!" David shouted running up to him. "Trace just told me you bit her head off at lunch! She's a total wreck! What did you say to her?"

His adrenaline pumping, Josh let his anger loose. "I told her the truth, Dave! That she's a total bitch and so are you! I don't need anyone's pity, least of all yours! You blew me off years ago! You both did! Now it's my turn! Blow, jerk-wad! You had years to apologize for dumping me as your friend! Now you feel bad about it? Tough shit! It's too late! Grace is dead and as far as you're concerned, so am I! Don't ever talk to me again!"

Turning to storm off, he felt David grab his arm to stop him. Whipping around, Josh slapped him hard across the face, making David let him go. "Don't you ever touch me again, faggot!" he screamed.

The sixteen-year-old boy was stunned. He was mad at Josh for yelling at his sister, but he'd been willing to listen to Josh's side. The violence and hatred flashing in his ex-friend's eyes was beyond reason; beyond reach. Backing away with his hand covering the sting on his cheek, David watched as Josh turned and stalked away from him.

Spending all his free time doing makeup work, Josh's life was reduced to school, sleep, and the meals his parents insisted he eat. The only exception was the four hours Josh took each Sunday to walk to Grace's grave, clean it, tell her he loved her, that he'd see her soon, and walk home. All else was just existence. By the last day of May, he'd finally caught up with all of his schoolwork just in time for finals and the end of the school year.

No one tried talking to him after that first day back. Once he was an outcast, but between the two outbursts at lunch and the one after school, over half the student body had personally seen his fury. None of them wanted Josh's righteous anger pointed at them.

The Sunday after school let out, as Josh got home from the cemetery, Fred caught him before he ran upstairs.

"Jocelyn! Could you come here a moment?" His voice was only mildly harsh when he said Josh's loathed name.

Turning around halfway up the stairs, Josh put a hand on one hip and cocked his head to one side. "What?"

"A call came for you while you were out." he stated. "It was a Mr. Roberts. I think I remember him coming to the hospital to see you before you woke up. He said he was your councilor, but Caller ID said it was from a church!"

"Oh, him." Josh spat. "I'll see to it that he never calls again! I'll be up in my room." Just as Fred was going to ask more questions, Josh ran up the rest of the stairs, slammed his bedroom door, and locked it.

Melanie came out of the master bedroom and looked up the stairs before turning to Fred. "What was that all about?"

Her husband just kept looking up to the landing where Josh disappeared. "I don't know, Mel... but I don't like it."

Shaking her head, she turned away. "We just need to let her work through it. We don't want to push her. She's very fragile right now. She needs time to work through the pain and re-center on her own self-identity." Heading back to her room, Melanie's voice faded as she went. "It'll be good for her in the long run, losing Grace. Jocelyn was far too dependent on that conservative of a girl. Women need their independence or they lose their options..."

Josh lay on his bed and read the first prescription bottle. The one hundred milligram Phenobarbital tablets had a two-fold purpose; they helped prevent a relapse of his seizures and acted as a sedative to help him get to sleep at night. He was supposed to take one per day just before bed until all twenty were gone, but he'd not taken any since leaving the hospital.

Putting it down, he picked up the second. The Fioricet was to help with the headaches, but he was warned not to take any after two in the afternoon to minimize drug interactions and only as necessary. His doctor didn't like giving Josh the two drugs together, but felt the risks were lower than if he'd given him a stronger pain reliever. He'd taken only two, enduring the pain and sleeplessness, and still had a nearly full bottle of forty tablets. As far as his parents knew, they were all gone. He made sure that's what they believed, and had years of practice making them believe what they wanted of him.

The pain he could handle. It was nothing compared to the pain of the empty shell his heart had become. The sleeplessness he actually preferred over the nightmares he suffered when he'd been made to take the Phenobarbital in the hospital. Half the time they were horrifying concoctions of half-remembered scenes of the accident. The rest he dreamed that he was trapped in a car at night while it sat on railroad tracks; Grace sitting next to him and smiling, blissfully unaware of the lights from the train racing at them and the blaring of its horn. That is, until it struck them with the force of an atomic bomb.

Sitting up, he placed the two bottles on his nightstand and got out of bed. Plopping down at his vanity, he pulled out his laptop and began to write, taking half a day to re-write, tweak, fix, add, and get his letter perfect.

To Whomever Gives A Shit,

Examining and re-reading the letter, Josh saved it for sending on the schedule that he'd set to go to the local police, Pastor Roberts, Judy, and Tracy at two in the morning. He didn't bother sending one to his parents since he knew his father read his email anyway.

He stripped naked and got out the boy clothes he'd kept hidden in his closet behind his old pink robe. Getting dressed and stuffing his hair in the cap, he took a last look at himself. I still look like a girl in boy clothes. he shuddered. Worse, I look like a young woman in boy's clothes! Accepting that he couldn't improve on his appearance, he went over to his nightstand and opened the bottle of Phenobarbital and laid out all the tablets.

He knew he didn't have enough to ensure his death, two grams being barely adequate, but taken in combination with at least half of the Fioricet, the interaction of both should do the job. Having read the warning labels as a set of instructions, he knew that if he took them all at once he might throw up, so he started by taking one and waiting on his bed for thirty minutes. While he waited, he pulled out the old shoebox that contained all of the letters that Jennifer had given him and read them all, finally understanding the utter hopelessness written in her last letter.

When he felt the effects begin to kick in, that woozy feeling he hated, he took eight more and five Fioricet. Waiting ten minutes, he took the rest of the Phenobarbital and five more Fioricet. Feeling very drowsy, he knew he needed another ten painkillers to finish the job and he wanted to wait ten more minutes to take them. Getting up, he paced his room, looked at his posters, and enjoyed feeling like a boy again.

When he felt he couldn't stay awake any longer, he shuffled towards his bed. This is it. he accepted. I'll just lay down, fall asleep, and never wake up. Thinking of Grace, remembering her smile and the feel of her hand in his, he smiled and hummed 'There's a Place for Us' to himself as he slowly sat on his bed. "Wait for me, Grace." he said with a tear. "I'm coming." He took two of the last ten tablets, one at a time, before blackness took him.

Some time later, Melanie and Fred were awoken by a loud knocking. After a moment, Fred started to rouse.

"Someone's at the door." he yawned, kicking the covers off. While he made his way to the front door, Melanie put on a robe. The knocking became more urgent before he shouted out, "I'm coming!" Opening the door, he saw two uniformed policemen with an ambulance crew standing behind them at the ready. "What's going on?"

"Is this the Ryan residence?" Officer Kyle Nelson, the policeman on the left, asked.

"Yes." he said hesitantly. "What about it?"

"Who is it, Fred?" Melanie asked as she came up to join him.

"Cops." Fred groused. "They woke us up in the middle of the night to ask who we were!"

"Mister Ryan?" the policeman stated impatiently, "May we come in?"

"You got a warrant?" Fred spat at him. "If not then you can get the hell off my property!"

"We have a report of a possible suicide at this address by a... Joshua Ryan." the man said as he looked at his notepad. "Does he live at this address?"

"Her name is Jocelyn Ryan!" Melanie spat at him. "You pigs are so..." Pausing as it dawned on her what he'd said, she did a double take. "Did you say suicide?" Quickly, she and Fred looked at one another in horror.

"Jocelyn!" they screamed together as both ran for the stairway. Even as they ran up the stairs, the police and EMS crew, now knowing they had the right place, entered uninvited on the grounds of exigent circumstances.

Reaching Josh's door, Fred found it locked. Terrified, he slammed his body against the door to no avail. It refused to open. "Stupid lock!" he yelled as he tried again and again until Kyle reached them.

"Is he in here?" Kyle asked. Seeing Fred nod, even as Melanie screamed at him for 'misgendering' Josh, the officer made them move into the bathroom and kicked the door in, sending a shower of wood splinters into the room. Charging in, hand on his weapon in case Josh had a gun for his suicide, he saw a boy laying face down on the bed in a pool of his own vomit. "In here!" he shouted as he raced up to Josh.

While Fred and Melanie tried to push their way in, the second officer held them in the bathroom to give the EMS crew access.

"Get out of my way!" Fred tried to push past him.

"Sir!" Officer King shouted. "Let the EMS crew handle this! You'll just get in their way, slow them down, and you might kill your son!"

"Daughter!" Melanie shouted as she tried to get past him as well. "You stupid fascist pig! We have a daughter! Who said you could come in our home! Get out! Jocelyn!"

Officer Nelson turned Josh over and felt for a pulse, but found none. Looking at the boy, his face covered in very recent vomit, he looked like a typical teenage boy, even though the room was decidedly feminine. That is, until the cap fell off Josh's head when he moved him to the floor. Suddenly the vaguely plain 'boy' resolved into a definite girl.

The EMS crew entered and began CPR immediately, not even knowing yet if Josh was already dead. Kyle assisted them while Officer King held back his wailing parents. He hated rolling up to see a kid like this. It terrified him as he thought each one was just like one of his own children. Doing chest compressions, the ace bandage restraining Josh's breasts not making it any easier, a moment later one of the EMS crew cut it off with a pair of scissors. Not even thinking, Kyle placed the heel of his hand between Josh's breasts and resumed compressions as the other EMS member prepared a breathing tube.

A few minutes later, they had Josh in the ambulance and began racing to the nearest hospital while one of the crew kept up chest compressions and the other forced air into his lungs. Kyle was exhausted from the effort as he watched the vehicle race away, but hoped he'd made a difference that night.