"You're going to have to take off your bracelets and clothes for the skin check." Michelle says.
My face suddenly feels hot. I put my arms behind my back.
"This is unnecessary." I say. "This isn't rehab. It's not like I'm carrying a pound of drugs in my-"
"Amber, no one here is going to judge you. It's only me. I'm a nurse." She says as she wheels over a scale.
"Please start with taking off your bracelets, Amber."
For some reason, I feel more okay stripping naked in front of her than showing my wrists.
"I'm going to have to take them off of you myself if you don't-"
"Fine!" I peel off all of my many bracelets, revealing the scars and scabs that run down my arm.
I sigh as I sense the disappointed look in Michelle's eyes.
"Happy?" I give her attitude.
"Now, the rest of your clothes."
I strip down to my underwear.
"Those too."
I roll my eyes and slip them off.
I've always disliked my body; the way it looks and the shape. I just wish I was skinner.
"Alright, you can put your clothes back on." Michelle says.
Thank god.
I start to put my bracelets back on when she stops me.
"I'll have to take those from you. No one here is allowed to have jewelry.
"It's just rubber bracelets.."
"I'm sorry."
I hand over my bracelets and lightly groan in annoyance.
These are going to be the longest two weeks of my life.
"Step on this scale so we can determine your weight." Michelle says.
I feel a drip of sweat trickle down the back of my neck.
I hate scales. For obvious reasons.
"Come on, hun."
I sigh and step on, closing my eyes so I won't have to see the number.
"Alright, you're five foot two and *** pounds."
"I would have preferred to not hear that." I croak.
"One huge step in therapy is acceptance, Collins."
I look up at Michelle as she writes stuff down on a chart.
"Will you quit calling me that? Its called a last name for a reason."
"You should take it as a sign of respect. Especially at age fourteen."
I ignore her and look away as she continues taking notes. The pressure in the room suddenly feels uncomfortably tightened, and my leg starts to bounce up and down.
"Who's Travis?" I ask her, trying to invade her personal space as much as she's invading mine.
She stops what she's doing and looks down at me, giving me the evil eye and not answering my question.
"Follow me to your room." She changes the subject.
I follow her to this small bedroom with two beds and a bathroom. Almost like what you'd see in a trailer park motel.
"You'll be sharing a room with a girl named Robin Waters. They're all out in the courtyard for rec, but they will be back soon."
She hands me some clothes. "I'll let you have some space. Come out to the day room if you need anything." She says before walking out.
As soon as the door shuts, I let out a long sigh. I flop on the small bed and stare up at the ceiling.
Well, Amber. This is it. You're now stuck in a crazy hospital for two weeks. At least two weeks.
I sort though the clothes Michelle gave me. Blank white tees, granny panties, sweat pants, and a lifetime supply of hospital socks. No bras, which means I'm stuck wearing this one until it rots. Great.
I walk out to the empty day room after I change and find a seat.
As if in slow motion, my eyes hook onto something silver.. something shiny. I look under my chair and find a paperclip. My adrenaline kicked up and my mind instantly connects it to a razor blade. I grab it and tuck it in my waistband before any of the staff are able to see.
"Just in case." I tell myself guiltily.
. . .
I start hearing footsteps and loud voices from the hallway, followed by a dozen faces. Some of them are smiling and laughing, others have blank expressions. Like they're permanently deep in thought.
I look to the back of the line and suddenly choke on my own saliva. That same boy as before paces slowly down the hallway, following the rest. I take a closer look at him before he notices me, and wow. Handsome as hell.
Tall and thin, with those big nerd glasses surrounding his eyes, a lip ring on the right side of his mouth, sharp jaw, short messy blond hair, and emerald green eyes.
Everyone sits down at different tables with their own small groups. Glasses boy sits across from me with the same blabbing girl from outside next to him.
He ruffles through his wavy hair, then faces my direction. He gives me a friendly nod. I do the same back to him.
"You must be new." He says.
"I am." I say back, nervously itching my hand underneath the table.
He holds out his hand. "I'm Ethan."
"Amber." I say, shaking his hand.
The girl next to him gives me a look, then reaches her hand out as well.
"Emily." She says.
I suck in my lips and shake her hand. She continues giving me that look, as if I did something wrong to her.
A tall, Hispanic girl sits next to me.
"Are you Amber Collins?" She asks.
I nod.
"I'm Robin, your roommate. Nice to meet you."
I notice her eyes. Crooked, and not looking directly at me.
I nod once. "Nice to meet you too." I say.
"Alright everyone, room time!" A different nurse than Michelle comes out and announces.
Everyone begins to exit the day room. As I stand up and out of my chair, Ethan and I make eye contact once again, then he turns back around.
I stay in that position for a couple more seconds while everyone around me scatters and finds their room.
"Amber." I look to my left. Robin stands there, waiting for me to follow her to our room.
I follow closely behind her. I take a look at all of the names on the doors of the other teen's rooms.
Connor Folgan....Tino Dodge...Emily Mahn...
But one name surprises me more than the others. My jaw drops and my eyes grow wide as I read the name.
Oh my god.
Ethan Quinn.
YOU ARE READING
Battle Scars
Teen FictionAmber Collins is a typical depressed teenager. She despises her body, her school, her past and her peers. As this fourteen year old gets put-down on a daily basis, she copes with her depression by isolating, limiting calories, and self harming. One...