Sweet Decadence

i. admittance

Chapter I

          "Whether you sniff it, smoke it, eat it or shove it up your ass, the result is the same: addiction."  
- William S. Burroughs

                                      GROANING INTERNALLY, SHE SAT DOWN IN ONE OF THE METAL CHAIRS.  Her sister had forced her to come today; she didn't have a choice.  She had sat her down and told her that she needed to get better, otherwise, they weren't going to consider her family, anymore.  Their father was livid with anger at her addiction and their mother cried every night over it.

          Supposedly, at least.  That's what she had been told.  It didn't make sense to her, though.  They hadn't cared about her for her entire life; they hadn't even came to her graduation . . . because they were "busy" and "couldn't get out of work".

          Yeah, okay, she thought bitterly to herself while she looked around the room.

          She had agreed to come mostly for herself.  If she wouldn't go, then she was going to spend time detoxing in the hospital before going to rehab for, at least, six months . . . and that simply wasn't something she was willing to do. 

          She didn't need an intervention; she needed everyone to stay out of her life.  She needed everyone to leave her alone and understand that she wasn't a little girl, anymore.  She was practically invisible when she was younger, in comparison to her sister and everything else in her parent's life . . . but now, everyone was trying to control her.

          She wanted to live her life, but they wouldn't let her. 

          Shaking her head, Maya looked up just as someone approached the podium.  She wasn't much for listening, but the way the man looked interested her.  She had never seen him before, but that made sense to her; she was new in town. 

          As much as she hated it, she knew she was going to meet new people when she came here, today.  It was obvious, to say the least, that there would be people that wouldn't be able to accept her and her addiction . . . but she needed a new start.  That's why she moved here and no where else; she didn't know anybody, here. 

          Staring at the man that was at the podium, her eyes connected with his own.  Maya listened closely, with intent, as he began to speak.  He sounded worn out and tired.  It was almost as if he was reading everyone in the room as a failure and that enraged Maya even worse than she already was. 

          "We're all here for a reason," he began.  "Everyone in this room has a problem and they came here for help.  I see some old faces and some new faces.  Everyone is moving at their own pace and even if no one speaks today, we'll still sit here for as long as we all need to.  If you came here today, then congratulations.  You're on your way to recovery.  There's no reason to be ashamed of your addictions; things will get better, if time is given to let things get better." 

          "Now, I usually open up these meetings with a greeting, but I've grown tired of everything that has to do with life and at the moment, I'm feeling a little helpless, myself.  Some of you are my dear friends and will understand what I'm talking about and why I'm feeling the way I'm feeling, today.  I've grown impatient," he grumbled. 

          "However, you call all forget my little rant; we aren't here to talk about my problems.  So . . .  Is anyone up for sharing?"  He asked, looking out at the crowd.  A seemingly older man raised his hand slowly in the air causing the speaker to nod at him with an obviously fake and impatient smile.