Petal [h.s.]

Chapter 4

Violet.

"How was your first night?" I was seated across Ian in one of the therapy rooms at the RSP. I was holding my notebook, a cup of steaming coffee in front of me. He had a glass of water but hadn't touched it yet. My eyes lingered on his bouncing knee. 

He twitched slightly and I noticed his heavy breathing. "It was fine. I could hear Aaron snoring through the walls."

I snorted slightly. "We've been known, his snoring is horrible. How's the withdrawal been?"

Ian shrugged and looked down at his hands that were fiddling in his lap. He looked uncomfortable to say the least. Tiny beads of sweat were forming on his forehead and I remembered him complaining about the heat a couple of minutes ago. 

Meanwhile I was basically shivering, curling my hands into the sleeves of my sweater to warm up my frozen fingers. 

It was Sunday and I was tired. I didn't sleep well knowing I left Abby with Harry, and my conversation with Louis made me feel awkward somehow about seeing Ian today.

"Cold sweats? Restless? Shaking? Headaches and muscle aches?" I asked. A noticeable shiver ran through his spine and I felt myself feeling sorry for him. The first few days were always the hardest. 

"Haven't noticed it that much." He lied straight to my face but I didn't hold it against him. Maybe denial worked best for him right now.

"I don't want to discourage you, but I'm thinking the following days are going to be worse. You're aware that we can't give you any medication for headaches or any other pain? No painkillers are allowed here, for obvious reasons. And I know we don't know each other very well, but if there is anything we can do to help you, please come to us. Or if there's any other residents you feel comfortable with." I kept my voice soft and sympathetic.

He nodded quickly, nervously biting on his nail as I wrote down a few things about his appearance. Ian looked even whiter than yesterday, and the very oversized jumper he was wearing made it hard for me to see his body shape or weight. 

"Is there anything in particular you want to talk about? What are you thinking about?"

"Drugs."

I nodded. "I know. Do you think it would make you feel better to talk about it? You don't have to."

He didn't answer but started his story immediately. It felt rushed and desperate, as if he couldn't wait to talk about all the drug-filled memories he had. "I... I got into drugs because of my brother. You met him yesterday, Louis."

I froze slightly when he mentioned Louis' name, but I kept my eyes on the notebook and refused to meet Ian's eyes.

"I have always kind of trailed behind Louis, all my life. I ended up kind of in his friend circle." Ian continued.

"And all of these friends are drug-friends? You have any clean friends?"

He rapidly shook his head no and swallowed thickly. He seemed so incredibly on edge. All I wanted to do was hug him and comfort him, but the withdrawal period was just something he unfortunately had to go through alone. It was the most risky time for relapse, which is why we tried to keep an extra close eye on newbies. 

Lana was downstairs watching a movie with the other kids, as was part of the lazy Sunday tradition at the RSP.

"I mean, Louis himself doesn't use, but they're all... involved. The others use a lot. And they use anything, you know. Heroin, meth, lots of coke. Pot just doesn't cut it anymore." Ian spoke.

I noticed how he shifted when he thought about the substances, and I could tell he enjoyed the memories that were coming into his brain. 

I cleared my throat. "So your brother's friends are your friends. Do you feel like you can rely on your brother once you get out and you're sober?"