Lost in July

II

Collin
~

I'm woken up by the sound of the med cart rolling into my room.

"Good morning, Collin," Nurse Penny enters cheerfully. "Sorry to wake you." Is she really, though?

"'S'fine," I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"Alrighty, we have breakfast and your medication!" Her cheery tone makes my head throb. She hands me the cup full of the two pills I have to take along with a clear solo cup full of water.

I take both, knocking back the pills and letting the icy cold water wash them down.

"What's for breakfast?" I ask, noticing there's no food on her tray.

"Well, why don't you go to the cafeteria and find out. It's only nine now, and breakfast is over at noon." She explains. Right. I have to be social to eat. Yay me.

I sigh grumpily. "You know, forcing someone to be social doesn't make them extroverts."

Penny just smiles, shrugging. "I don't make the rules, Collin. Besides, no one said you had to talk to anyone. You could just eat alone."

"Mm-hmm," I hop out of bed and pull on a black hoodie.

Penny starts to walk out the door before turning to me. "Group therapy is in the C Room at one o'clock. Don't miss it." She shuts my door and leaves me in an even worse mood than before.

Usually, the group therapy I get put into focuses on managing depression and the "low-lows." It always fucks up my head because how many of us can be so fucked up? Sure, it helps with the not feeling alone thing, but it also makes you feel so fucking empty because all these helpless kids are just drowning in their heads.

I glance in the mirror, taking in my appearance. My hair is a mess of unbrushed waves on top of my head, prompting me to pull up the hood on my oversized black hoodie. My grey sweatpants touch the floor as I grab my toothbrush, brush my teeth in the communal bathrooms, and get ready for the day.

I stroll to the cafeteria for breakfast, noticing the long line formed. This always reminds me of high school, which is worse than being here.

I opt for the side of the cafe with no line, which has a wide selection of bagels and cereal. I take a plain bagel, slather on some cream cheese, and sit far away from everyone at the end of a table.

I notice Trevor nursing a big bottle of water and picking at his pancake as if it will make him sick. Honestly, it probably will, from what I've heard about withdrawal.

Don't go over there. Don't go over there.

I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to "get better," as far as my parents know, and that's it. There's no use in attaching myself to people just as messed up as I am. But fuck, he looks so sick and lonely, and I'm kind of lonely too.

I get up and sit in front of Trevor. "Hey, man." I greet.

He lifts his head from resting on the table and attempts to smile. "Hey,"

"You don't look too good," I say honestly.

He laughs. "Yeah, I know. Don't do drugs, I guess."

"No offense, man, but shouldn't you be in rehab or something?" I ask.

He takes a sip of water, his hand violently shaking the entire time. "I am, technically. Rehab sent me here since they said I'm in danger to myself or whatever. I guess there are other drug addicts here too. I go back to rehab after, like, a week or something."