Sequel: Execution Of The Enemy ›
Rehab Romances
Erm...Dare.
“Okay, like, look. We have, like, nothing in common and I, like, no offence, don’t like your kind. So, I, like, decided to make it that I only talk to you, like, when its, like, necessary. You got that?” Heather had decided to lecture me on how we wouldn’t work out together and how we could make it work. I had only been there a day and sleeping in the same room as here was just hell. It was
“Yeah, whatever.”
“Do you even care about, like, my feelings about me having to stay in a room with some VooDoo experiment.” As much as I never cared what people thought of me, for some reason that hurt me. I looked at her with a blank face and walked out of them room. Tears started to form. I started walking around the halls again, looking for somewhere I could drown my feelings in my “book”. I always kept a journal where I would put anything I thought, draw what I saw in my mind, Whatever. I found a room where some girls were talking in the corner and two younger boys were playing playstation. I found a chair in a corner and pulled out my ‘book’ and started writing. I sometimes wrote letters to an old friend named Tyler who had committed suicide about two years ago. He was a really close friend of mine and he was the one that I could talk to. I started writing a letter to Tyler about how I hated it here, how Heather was horrible to me, about how I met Frank. So, I did put some good things in. I realized that this place wasn’t for crazy cereal killer kids, and that it was just for kids that needed to get away and have someone to talk to anytime that they needed. I realized how many rejects like me there was here and how many people I have similar problems with. I was half way done with my letter when I saw someone sit down next to me out of the corner of my eye.
“Whatcha doing?” They asked.
“Writing”
“Whatcha Writing?”
“A letter.”
“Too Who?”
“To My dead friend Tyler, he wont get it but he was the one I could talk too before he killed himself.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. He needed to kill himself. I would have done the same thing. He was in deep shit and living would just be hell.”
“Oh. Okay.” I looked up at Frank as he sat there looking at my letter. I had forgotten about how I had put in about how I met him.
“I see you mentioned me. I’m your first friend.” I looked back down at my letter and reread what I had put then realized what it said and covered it up.
“You’re really the only person I actually talked too.”
“Ah huh. Well, maybe you need to meet some of my friends.” He smiled and motioned for me to get up. We walked own a hall in silence until we got to what looked to be a lunch room, only there wasn’t any food or anything. He just opened the door and looked around. There weren’t many kids in there but there was one table with four guys sitting at it and playing cards. As we got closer I realized they were playing poker.
“Hey Guys.” He said to them. They all looked up and examined me and said hi back.
“Who’s the chick?” One of them asked.
“This is…Missy.” He said and smiled. I was so pleased that he said my name wasn’t Emily. And what he didn’t realize is that I liked the name Melissa.
“Oh. Cool.” One said from behind a fan of cards.
“Anyways, this is Ryan, Mikey, Gerard, and Pete.” They all seemed similar to Frank. They all wore dark eyeliner and they all had a punk rock edge to them. I liked it. They reminded me of my old friends.
“So, what you do?” Ryan asked.
“Oh. A lot, My parents just finally got fed up with me being in trouble all the time. So they sent me here.”
“How do you know Frank?” Mikey asked me.
“Um….well, we just kinda ran into each other in the halls.” He laughed a little.
“Straight Flush.” Gerard had said and put his cards down. He smiled and grabbed the stack of colored chips on the table. Frank sat down and was given a hand of cards.
“Wanna play?” He asked me.
“Sure.” I said, Although, I felt very awkward around these new people. I was given my cards and some chips. We played a round and I won with a pair of Queens.
“Wow. Pretty good newbie.” Mikey had said too me. I noticed that Pete was pretty quiet. Either that or he didn’t realize that there was a new girl sitting at their table. After some time of playing I forgot that these people were all new and I started treating them like my friends. I would laugh at their jokes and burns. I would even burn them sometimes. I felt at home, and I felt as though I had a family in this place they had called home for sometime. As we played cards we talked about our lives. They all told me about how they got in here. Gerard and Mikey were brothers. Mikey was put in for a drinking problem. Gerard had almost committed suicide if his mom hadn’t walked in on my cutting, really deep. Ryan told me that his parents just didn’t want him anymore because he had major depression issues, so they dropped him here. Pete didn’t really talk, but by what we got out of him he had seen his father’s death and almost went crazy. They needed him to be sent here for therapeutic help. I realized that was why he was very quiet around new people. I told them about my boyfriend and getting me pregnant. They listened to me also. I told them about my cutting problem. I told them about how I was a heroine addict for almost 6 months, and how I had gotten drunk and almost killed when a car hit me after a friend’s party. How the only friends I ever had were the ones from broken homes and had horrible lives and how I apparently had a “perfect home life” according to my parents. They asked me who I was roomed with and they knew about Heather. They said that she once passed out and had to be rushed to the emergency room because he hadn’t eaten in 3 days. I wasn’t very surprised. They said that she also had sex with three of the small problem boys. The ones whose parents sent them here because they smoked crack once or drank a beer at a party. The more I heard the more I wanted out of that room. What if she passed out? What would I do? Not like I would care but I didn’t want to be accused of hurting her or ignoring her pain. We played a few more rounds until the bitchy lady came in and called me over to tell me about they group session they had with kids with similar reasons for being here. She gave me a paper with a schedule on it. They were not mandatory, but according to Frank, they weren’t very fun. I looked at the paper and realized that these people thought I was crazy. I crumbled up the paper and shoved it into my bag. Frank said that he had a group session with me, the depression one. He told me how all they did was talk about how they were feeling and shit. All the guys agreed it was totally pointless and they suggested going to the first and never coming back. Then they think you at least gave an effort. We stopped playing cards and started playing truth or dare. I always hated the game, mostly because everything I was dared to do got me I trouble or got my high. I said I’d play cause I don’t think these guys would make me do anything too bad.
“Missy, Truth or dare?”
“Erm…Dare.”
“Kiss Frank”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“Do you even care about, like, my feelings about me having to stay in a room with some VooDoo experiment.” As much as I never cared what people thought of me, for some reason that hurt me. I looked at her with a blank face and walked out of them room. Tears started to form. I started walking around the halls again, looking for somewhere I could drown my feelings in my “book”. I always kept a journal where I would put anything I thought, draw what I saw in my mind, Whatever. I found a room where some girls were talking in the corner and two younger boys were playing playstation. I found a chair in a corner and pulled out my ‘book’ and started writing. I sometimes wrote letters to an old friend named Tyler who had committed suicide about two years ago. He was a really close friend of mine and he was the one that I could talk to. I started writing a letter to Tyler about how I hated it here, how Heather was horrible to me, about how I met Frank. So, I did put some good things in. I realized that this place wasn’t for crazy cereal killer kids, and that it was just for kids that needed to get away and have someone to talk to anytime that they needed. I realized how many rejects like me there was here and how many people I have similar problems with. I was half way done with my letter when I saw someone sit down next to me out of the corner of my eye.
“Whatcha doing?” They asked.
“Writing”
“Whatcha Writing?”
“A letter.”
“Too Who?”
“To My dead friend Tyler, he wont get it but he was the one I could talk too before he killed himself.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. He needed to kill himself. I would have done the same thing. He was in deep shit and living would just be hell.”
“Oh. Okay.” I looked up at Frank as he sat there looking at my letter. I had forgotten about how I had put in about how I met him.
“I see you mentioned me. I’m your first friend.” I looked back down at my letter and reread what I had put then realized what it said and covered it up.
“You’re really the only person I actually talked too.”
“Ah huh. Well, maybe you need to meet some of my friends.” He smiled and motioned for me to get up. We walked own a hall in silence until we got to what looked to be a lunch room, only there wasn’t any food or anything. He just opened the door and looked around. There weren’t many kids in there but there was one table with four guys sitting at it and playing cards. As we got closer I realized they were playing poker.
“Hey Guys.” He said to them. They all looked up and examined me and said hi back.
“Who’s the chick?” One of them asked.
“This is…Missy.” He said and smiled. I was so pleased that he said my name wasn’t Emily. And what he didn’t realize is that I liked the name Melissa.
“Oh. Cool.” One said from behind a fan of cards.
“Anyways, this is Ryan, Mikey, Gerard, and Pete.” They all seemed similar to Frank. They all wore dark eyeliner and they all had a punk rock edge to them. I liked it. They reminded me of my old friends.
“So, what you do?” Ryan asked.
“Oh. A lot, My parents just finally got fed up with me being in trouble all the time. So they sent me here.”
“How do you know Frank?” Mikey asked me.
“Um….well, we just kinda ran into each other in the halls.” He laughed a little.
“Straight Flush.” Gerard had said and put his cards down. He smiled and grabbed the stack of colored chips on the table. Frank sat down and was given a hand of cards.
“Wanna play?” He asked me.
“Sure.” I said, Although, I felt very awkward around these new people. I was given my cards and some chips. We played a round and I won with a pair of Queens.
“Wow. Pretty good newbie.” Mikey had said too me. I noticed that Pete was pretty quiet. Either that or he didn’t realize that there was a new girl sitting at their table. After some time of playing I forgot that these people were all new and I started treating them like my friends. I would laugh at their jokes and burns. I would even burn them sometimes. I felt at home, and I felt as though I had a family in this place they had called home for sometime. As we played cards we talked about our lives. They all told me about how they got in here. Gerard and Mikey were brothers. Mikey was put in for a drinking problem. Gerard had almost committed suicide if his mom hadn’t walked in on my cutting, really deep. Ryan told me that his parents just didn’t want him anymore because he had major depression issues, so they dropped him here. Pete didn’t really talk, but by what we got out of him he had seen his father’s death and almost went crazy. They needed him to be sent here for therapeutic help. I realized that was why he was very quiet around new people. I told them about my boyfriend and getting me pregnant. They listened to me also. I told them about my cutting problem. I told them about how I was a heroine addict for almost 6 months, and how I had gotten drunk and almost killed when a car hit me after a friend’s party. How the only friends I ever had were the ones from broken homes and had horrible lives and how I apparently had a “perfect home life” according to my parents. They asked me who I was roomed with and they knew about Heather. They said that she once passed out and had to be rushed to the emergency room because he hadn’t eaten in 3 days. I wasn’t very surprised. They said that she also had sex with three of the small problem boys. The ones whose parents sent them here because they smoked crack once or drank a beer at a party. The more I heard the more I wanted out of that room. What if she passed out? What would I do? Not like I would care but I didn’t want to be accused of hurting her or ignoring her pain. We played a few more rounds until the bitchy lady came in and called me over to tell me about they group session they had with kids with similar reasons for being here. She gave me a paper with a schedule on it. They were not mandatory, but according to Frank, they weren’t very fun. I looked at the paper and realized that these people thought I was crazy. I crumbled up the paper and shoved it into my bag. Frank said that he had a group session with me, the depression one. He told me how all they did was talk about how they were feeling and shit. All the guys agreed it was totally pointless and they suggested going to the first and never coming back. Then they think you at least gave an effort. We stopped playing cards and started playing truth or dare. I always hated the game, mostly because everything I was dared to do got me I trouble or got my high. I said I’d play cause I don’t think these guys would make me do anything too bad.
“Missy, Truth or dare?”
“Erm…Dare.”
“Kiss Frank”