Temporary Fix |ON HOLD|

One

I stare blankly at the balding psychiatrist sent by my mother. I rake my nails against the wood of the armchair, feeling the warmth of the October sun shine through the window.

"So, Miss Lee. Why did you do it? Make an attempt on your own life, that is." He asks, peering over the edge of his silver rimmed glasses.

"I didn't try to kill myself." I state clearly for the millionth time. I take a drag of my cigarette and puff it out into his breathing space.

"Is that why you drank three bottles of scotch and swallowed a large amount of sleeping pills?" He asks, pushing at my buttons.

"I didn't intend on ending up in the emergency, now did I?" I snap, inhaling more smoke. I tap the cigarette against the ash tray, letting the loose ash fall like tiny grey snowflakes...

"I think you're an alcoholic with social problems who's addicted to sleeping pills." He says after spending a good fee moments writing something down in his little notepad. Probably writing down all the reasons he hates his life and a possible list of all the men his wife's secretly sleeping with.

"Well I think you're full of shit." I retaliate, arching my brow at him. He sighs in disappointment, taking no insult. He stands, his knees cracking under the severe weight of his pot belly.

"I'm going to discuss this with your mother." He says before walking to the kitchen where my anticipating mother awaits.

This is such crap. So I accidentally take too many pills for my insomnia and drink one glass to many? All of a sudden I'm fucking Sally Suicidal. I snort out loud, Sally Suicidal. I quickly stop myself, laughing at nothing isn't helping my case.

My parents think I'm crazy, a lunatic who's out of control. If word got out that the daughter of such a prestigious pair of squares as the Lee's is a nutter, there would be uproar. They'd surely be kicked out of the country club. That's all they're worried about. Their public image.

As I'm putting out the stub that's left of my cigarette, my mother and the shrink come back into the room. Worry plasters my mothers face. While the shrink, hands me a leaflet with a smug expression. I hold eye contact with him as I lower the leaflet onto my lap without looking at it.

"I'm sure it's a compelling read, but I have a library card. Thanks."
"Madison!" My mother gasps. "Doctor Sheehan I am so sorry." She gushes, her face going red in embarrassment.

I look down at the leaflet. "I don't need rehab." I keep my cool this time. My constant sarcasm won't help anything, not right now.

"Doctor Sheehan says you do. And your father and I think so. You need to dry out Madison. You can go to a place where you're among people who are like you! Doesn't that sound nice?" She tries smiling and making light of things.

I read down through the print. Two words catch my eyes and I loose it.

"It's in a mental hospital?" I shrill. They cannot be serious

"Well, you'll also be treated for your antisocial behaviors and through therapy, you'll find out what's making you feel suicidal." He speaks with his hands, pointing to his head multiple times throughout his speech.

"I'm not crazy! Mum, tell him!?" I scream and she jumps back. "You want me gone, don't you? You want me out of your hair! That's why you're sending me off! Well I'm an adult, and I don't have to go if I don't want to!"

"Shall I add paranoia to your necessary therapy sessions?"

"Jesus!" I pull at my hair "I'm not paranoid, suicidal or any of the rest!"

"Your cab will arrive this evening, you'll be heading for Riverview tonight to get your room. Gather your belongings, only the necessaries. I wish you all the luck with your recovery, Madison." He smiles.

My mother ushers him to the door, waving him off as he saddles into his Benz. I bow my head. This is it. I'm going to rehab.

••••

I walk down the stairs, my small yet stuffed suitcase in my hand and my coat in the other. My mother and father are standing at the doorway with sympathetic smiles on their faces. I see the cab at the bottom of the driveway.

I step out into the freezing air, pulling my coat on and tightening my scarf. I turn back to my parents, to say my parting line.

"Crack out your best bottle of champagne folks, you've finally managed to ship off your embarrassment of a daughter."

I walk confidently down the path and into the cab, hauling my case in with me.

"Where to miss?" The driver asks me cheerfully. At least there's one person who doesn't care if I'm crazy or not.

"Riverview Rehabilitation center please,"

From what I can remember, Riverview isn't too far away. About fifteen minutes. I passes it once or twice.

"You visiting?" He asks, starting the engine and speeding off down the road.

"Can I smoke?" I ask, he nods. I light my cigarette and let the nicotine calm me. "As of this morning, I'm a patient." I smirk. The driver laughs and shakes his head,

"If you ask me miss, we should all be patients. We're all addicted to something." He says wisely.

"Give me three months, I'll be addicted to nothing." I throw the half smoked stick out the window and sink into my warm coat.

"You can never not be addicted to something. Yeah you might kick one habit, but you can only ever replace one addiction with another one."

This is just a little background information about Temporary Fix. I can't wait to hear the actual song! I've been playing around with this plot for a long time and I've finally decided to run with it! Please vote and comment, share and all that jazz! Love always!
-C