California Dreaming
Chapter 03
Alyssa couldn't sleep that night. Every time she nearly fell asleep, flashes of the crash that had killed an innocent little boy and his mother passed through her mind, and she was jolted back to reality. She had been in this cycle for weeks now, ever since the night of the accident. How could she sleep knowing she'd broken apart an entire family?
Jeff had really pushed her to talk about it in the therapy session tonight. He'd started with easy questions first - why did you start drinking? How do you feel about your parents? - to questions that she didn't have the answers to - do you forgive yourself? Do you feel capable of moving on?
The entire ordeal had left her exhausted and, much like earlier in the afternoon, all she had wanted was a bottle of whatever was closest and room to lock herself in alone. This place and its pastel walls and tile carpet offered no hiding places. She'd had nowhere to run after the session and so she'd done the next best thing she had been able to think of - she'd gone to bed.
That had been four hours ago and for every single minute of those hours, she'd been wide awake and tormented by the nightmares. She knew that Rosalie would give her some Ambien if she asked for it, but she didn't want to ask. Instead, she chose to slip through the hallway and out the patio door quietly. The patients were supposed to sign themselves out when they stepped outside after nine, but she didn't want to go through all of that. It would lead to too many questions, and she didn't have the patience.
She was surprised to find someone else outside as she walked over to the tree in the furthest corner of the yard. She recognized the man as being one of the newer patients, a man named George from Hollywood. He was like her, and hadn't spoken much during group. He was stomping his cigarette out on the grass as she walked up.
"Do you have another one of those?" She asked him quietly. "I forgot mine inside."
"Sure," he answered her. He pulled a box of Camels out of his back pocket and opened it up, offering her one. She took it and lit the end of it with his lighter, inhaling and then exhaling slowly, her eyes closing and head leaning against the fence.
"Couldn't sleep?"
No answer. She'd already guessed that he wasn't much of a talker, but she'd thought he might at least talk a little with her. After all, it seemed like he didn't want to be here, either. Maybe the law had forced him, too.
He didn't bother saying goodbye when he walked away, and Alyssa couldn't help but find herself intrigued. She had already thought he was interesting when she'd seen him during group this morning, but she hadn't expected this. The blonde made a mental note to try talking to him again in the morning.
Jeff had really pushed her to talk about it in the therapy session tonight. He'd started with easy questions first - why did you start drinking? How do you feel about your parents? - to questions that she didn't have the answers to - do you forgive yourself? Do you feel capable of moving on?
The entire ordeal had left her exhausted and, much like earlier in the afternoon, all she had wanted was a bottle of whatever was closest and room to lock herself in alone. This place and its pastel walls and tile carpet offered no hiding places. She'd had nowhere to run after the session and so she'd done the next best thing she had been able to think of - she'd gone to bed.
That had been four hours ago and for every single minute of those hours, she'd been wide awake and tormented by the nightmares. She knew that Rosalie would give her some Ambien if she asked for it, but she didn't want to ask. Instead, she chose to slip through the hallway and out the patio door quietly. The patients were supposed to sign themselves out when they stepped outside after nine, but she didn't want to go through all of that. It would lead to too many questions, and she didn't have the patience.
She was surprised to find someone else outside as she walked over to the tree in the furthest corner of the yard. She recognized the man as being one of the newer patients, a man named George from Hollywood. He was like her, and hadn't spoken much during group. He was stomping his cigarette out on the grass as she walked up.
"Do you have another one of those?" She asked him quietly. "I forgot mine inside."
"Sure," he answered her. He pulled a box of Camels out of his back pocket and opened it up, offering her one. She took it and lit the end of it with his lighter, inhaling and then exhaling slowly, her eyes closing and head leaning against the fence.
"Couldn't sleep?"
No answer. She'd already guessed that he wasn't much of a talker, but she'd thought he might at least talk a little with her. After all, it seemed like he didn't want to be here, either. Maybe the law had forced him, too.
He didn't bother saying goodbye when he walked away, and Alyssa couldn't help but find herself intrigued. She had already thought he was interesting when she'd seen him during group this morning, but she hadn't expected this. The blonde made a mental note to try talking to him again in the morning.