The Art of Balancing » work in progress

CH. 12 : "2 Scoopz: named after 2 Chainz."

You would think that two weeks would give me enough time to cool off after Reid, y'know, ruined my life.. But it wasn't. I don't think I was ever going to fully get over it this time.

I could deal with being cooped up at the Jensen clinic in New York because I was secluded. I was surrounded by people who hated being there just as much as I did. We could all talk about missing out on everyday things and bitch about the outside world together.

But here?

Each day, I had Reid delivering me meals, not some nurse without a name that I had no problem telling off. I had to look out my window and see Graham and Landon hanging out (because apparrently they were best friends again?).

This time, I was being forced to watch life happen while I was stuck inside with a healing knee, an overstressed dad, and too much homework. This was rock bottom.

If there were any positives in my life right now, I guess it could be that Sasha had gotten my room re-done while I stayed at the hospital after my surgery - which went fine if you were wondering.

My bedroom was no longer full of sparkles and fluffy pink stuffed animals and inspirational posters with horses on them. I now had a queen sized bed and my Hello Kitty boom box was turned in for a MacBook. My walls were stripped and I had hard wood floors. It was barely recognizable.

This very well might have been my plunge into womanhood.

However, the whole "operation: completely make over Violet's bedroom" made total sense. When I got back from the hospital and attempted to secure all of my old belongings, I couldn't find any of my dance things.

No leotards, tutus, trophies, pictures, shoes... Absolutely nothing. When I demanded that Reid returned them to their rightful owner, he told me it was for my own good and once I "earned his trust", I could have them back.

I don't think I'd ever need them back, though. This was it. There was no way I could ever dance again, so maybe it was for my own good after all. I know one look at a pointe shoe and I'd already be in the middle of a relapse. It was too much.

I had surrendered into the help that I... needed. There was no use fighting it anymore. I either had to give up and at least try, or be stuck in this hell hole until I turned 18. No matter how awful it was, I knew I had to get through it. There were no other options.

Today, however, had been a rather difficult day. Reid and I got into another fight when I overslept and ended up missing my doctor's appointment (which wasn't accidental. I didn't want to get weighed. Oops.)

So now it was late afternoon and actually a sunny one at that. My window was cracked and I sat in my bed feeling entirely too sorry for myself as the sound of Emma telling someone about her recital fills my ears. I just miss everything, I guess.

I miss going to school. I miss Marina making jokes about Graham and his infatuation with Darcy. I miss sitting on the side of the field during soccer practices and laughing with Landon about immature things. I miss Graham and I both awkwardly singing along to a Fitz & The Tantrums song when he would drive me home.

I suppose the majority of this was my fault. I couldn't help it, though. Reid (unintentionally) spilled nearly everything to Graham at the hospital, and how could I face him when he saw me almost completely vulnerable?

Of course all of Radley knew by now. For starters, I was sure every damn person in the school saw my fall on the stairs, and if they didn't? Then they definitely heard the scream that followed. And secondly, I hadn't been in school since it happened. They'd notice and when they'd ask someone, they'd find out about the real reason why I wasn't there.