This Little Game We Like To Play

I feel like a prisoner as I sit in the second row of backs seats of the olive green monster my parents drive. Both Charlotte and Adam sat in front of me. Why did they have to come. It was bad enough my parents are taking me to a rehabilitation center. I don’t think this is the kind of trip you bring friends on.

I don’t need to go there. I can fix things by myself. I don’t need a bunch of doctors to tell me how or how record my progress. This whole thing is Angel’s fault. Everything is his fault. What was I ever thinking for trusting him. To think I let him kiss me. Disgusting.

I turn the music of my iPod up louder. I hate the silence. It’s like I’m dead. Like I died. Mom’s crying and dad just stays silent. I can’t deal with it.

I stare out the window once the van came to a stop. The building was alright looking from the outside. I’m never going to see what the inside looks like. I step out of the van and look around. Dad and Adam were getting my things out of the trunk. Charlotte was hugging my mom. I might not get another chance. I look around my surroundings to decide which way to go.

To the right was another large building identical to the one in front of me. That was another wing of the hospital. To the left is a gas station. I take off running toward the gas station as fast as I can, I get to the gas station when they notice me running. My parents start to yell and I see a man in navy blue scrub pants and I white shirt running after me. Shit.

He runs much faster than I can. I push myself to run faster but I don’t have the energy or the strength The man’s arms pull me back into his rock hard chest. I begin to scream, cry, and kick.

“I hate you! I hate you!” I scream as the man pulls me past my parents. “I hate you!” I struggle in the man’s grasp.

“Hello Quinn. I’m Jeff. I’m going to be your guide.” Jeff is pretty good looking I must admit. He had medium brown hair which spikes up in random spots. He has the most amazingly blue eyes I’ve ever seen. That’s doesn’t mean I like the guy though. Plus the bright lights and boring layout of my new home for only God knows how long destroys my every emotion other than hate and despair.

“Shut the fuck up.” I growl at him.

“We don’t take that kind of language here, Quinn.”

“I don’t care, Jeff.” I faked a happy expression to mock him.

Jeff stays with me all day. He stays with me during my classes. He stays with me during every meal. He stays with me when I cook, not that I ever eat any of what I cook. He stays with me when I have free time. He’s there when I wake up. I hate him.

“How about some fruit?” Jeff pushes a bowl of fruit salad toward me. I’ve been here a week and he hasn’t succeeded in getting me to eat yet. Why doesn’t he just give up now?

“In case you haven’t heard I have an eating disorder.” I smile to myself an push the bowl back toward him.

“Always with the jokes.” Jeff smiles at me from across the cafeteria table. I don’t think he understand just how much I hate him. He’s always at me to eat, that’s not going to get me to eat.“If don’t eat you’re to get a feeding tube. Is that what you want?” Jeff doesn’t think I know that I’m his first patient, but I’ve know since day one. My roommate Mary told me. Mary is alright. I rarely talk to her, she rarely talks to me. It all works out fine.

“No. I want to starve to death.” I say with a grin and pluck a grape out of the bowl of fruit. And roll in around in the palm of my hand. Jeff sits and watches. Slowly, I lift the grape to my lips and put it in my mouth. I roll the grape around in my mouth. Jeff watches me carefully, poor guy thinks I’m actually going to eat. I place the green grape against my lips and blow a gust of air through my lips sending the grape flying at Jeff’s face.