One Last Time

Chapter II

I look around and see a table. There's a pair of grippy socks on the side. Oh my lord, am I in grippy sock vacation heaven? How the hell was I admitted here? This place looked gourmet. I was fashionably late indeed. Who the hell was I kidding?

I look down at my arm and see an IV. I take it out and put on my grippy socks. I then run around my room that was shared by me and only me. Then I see someone, staring at me and I stop. "Why hello there." It's a fucking social worker. God damn it.

She approaches me. "What's your name?" She asks and I don't say nothing. I simply stare at her and sit down, feeling like a little kid in 3rd grade being investigated for my mothers murder. My mothers murder that my father had accumulated. Fucking bastard.

I look at the table and see my golden eyes and brunette hair staring back at me. I swallow and look up at her. "Trix. Why the hell am I here?" Last time I checked, freedom of speech was a thing. "You overdosed in a street, care to explain that Trix?"

I stare at her with my best poker face. "No." I say and continue to stare at her. My street cred would be absolutely ruined if they knew the girl with the strip of bleach in her long brunette hair that goes by the name of Trix because one coke addict couldn't pronounce Tris right. So, she's been Trix for the past two years.

"I see your a stubborn one. We're here to help you Trix. Just need the information to do so." I sigh and look at her. "I don't know lady, I was high one minute, the next I was waking up in this lovely castle thy have provided for me, is that what you needed?"

She would have just rolled her eyes. "Alright. Go socialize." She said and exited. I would just follow paul barts wife and held my hand to to my forearm and would just run my hand up and down it, I was nervous because I haven't socialized with rich people since my moms funeral. That's when I turn the corner and see chairs impaled to the ground. Then, I lock eyes with him.