Tendencies (Larry Stylinson)

Teaser (1)

→Louis←

I shuffled between the two guards, each tightening their grip on either arm when they sensed I would fall behind. "Watch it, I've got shorter legs."

They continued their quick pace until we stopped at a door at the end of the corridor. The word Warden was framed on the door above the shaded window. The guard to my right knocked twice, the third knock being interrupted.

"It's open."

The door was pulled open and I was shoved inside, nearly falling to my knees before taking in the sight.

It was an office. In the middle of the room was a desk, the chair behind it being occupied by a small woman.

I only use the word small because the second she stood up, her face was leveled with mine. "Louis," she cooed, beckoning me forward. "Sit down." Her attention turned to the guards. "You're dismissed."

I made my way to the chair in front of her, trying to clear my throat and swallow at the same time, causing strange noises to erupt from my mouth. I felt an itch next to my nose and the button-up shirt I'd worn to court this morning was starting to feel really tight and restricting on me but I sat still, waiting for the Warden to address me.

"My name is Siren. I was only just assigned your case today so I don't know all the details."

"Right."

"What are you in for?"

"Possession, intention to distribute. First offense, let me off with a warning - though I had to come here."

"Is that really a bad thing?" She asked through her painted red lips. Her straightened hair was cut short, just under her ears. Her small frame was held together by a loose black blouse, her skin reaching her fingertips dipped in a navy blue ink color. "Many people who arrive here tend to like it." The color around her iris was hard to distinguish, leading me to believe her eye color was, indeed, black. "Possession of what?"

"H."

"How much?"

"Enough for all of South Yorkshire."

She seemed pleased, impressed, even. She reclined back in her chair and brought her hands to a drawer on her side of the desk. "I understand. I suppose you came here to rid yourself of your addiction?"

"I suppose so."

I heard the drawer open and close, her hands bringing back a small CD case sized box. "What if I told you-" Her slender fingers clicked the locks open, revealing small bags of powd-

That's not powder.

"-you wouldn't have to?"

Do you really wanna get better - or do you want another hit?

Admitted into a rehab center where they'll help you hide your addiction, rather than cure it, Louis is faced with many complications. Surprise inspections, family visits, and fighting each other as to who gets the last dose are all in a day's work. That, along with his strange roommate calls for an interesting 6 months serving in The Harbor Rehabilitation Clinic.