Hall 12

The Gift (REVISED)

Morning comes with a dose of prescribed Zoloft, beautifully arranged in a pastel pink dixie cup. Nurse Joslyn knocks twice before walking in, cart left in the hall. That must be how Cuts can get her Xanax, I think.

I clear my throat, sitting up from where I had been propped up on a couple pillows.

"Morning, honey," she says, sitting on the corner on my bed and rubbing my ankle, "Two Zoloft for you. Your support group begins in an hour, so get dressed and have some breakfast. I'll be back tonight to give you your second dose."

My stomach flips. The thought of food makes me cringe. "Thank you. Actually, do you think I could skip breakfast today? You know, troubles with my nerves and all."

Joslyn smiles softly, getting up and opening the top drawer of the desk. She tosses a strawberry granola bar on my lap. "I'll let you stay this time, but that's it. You're here to heal, Allison."

I give her a thumbs up and pretend to open it, waiting until she leaves the room to toss it under my bed. I roll over on my bed, feeling a familiar heavy feeling in my chest. Loneliness. I greet it as an old friend.

My eyes close and I feel myself drifting off to sleep once more when-

"Aye, Shakey, rise and shine!"

I jump back up, hair falling messily against my shoulders. I look to see Smokey grinning at me. "Wha?"

"The toys are waiting for you downstairs. We have a surprise, so put on some clothes and I'll meet you outside."

I sigh, shaking my head. "Look, Smokey, I know you think that I can fit in with your friends, but I'm just-"

"I will literally put your clothes on you if you don't get up in the next 15 seconds."

"Smokey..."

"Are you trying to call my bluff?"

I deflate, getting up on weak legs. "I guess not."

She smiles brightly and places a kiss to my shoulder. "Thanks hun. You'll like the surprise, okay? It'll all be worth it."

I try not to sound so exhausted but I really am. I'm exhausted from all the social activity, all the people I've met and I want to be alone. I want to be lonely. It's a home away from home.

I change and meet Smokey in the hall, taking the elevator instead of the stairs. ("Already smoked, so we can take this down now," she told me as we both walked into it.)

I'm lead back to the Island, bowl of almonds in my hand from the breakfast line. Better than the calories in a granola bar, I guess.

Cuts, Heroin, Psycho, Skinny, and Crack are all waiting for me, in the same seats as yesterday. I greet them all with faux happiness, sitting next to Smokey once again. I can't help but wonder where Blue is.

"As a new toy to our island, we all decided to pitch in and get you a little welcoming gift," she explains.

My heart tenses up, not daring to beat. "Guys, this isn't necessary. I don't need a gift."

"You sure, Shakey? Thought it would make you feel at home." I look behind me and there's Blue, sauntering behind us with a hand behind her back. I scramble to find a sentence that makes any amount of sense, but she steps closer and I can't even breathe.

"We noticed you didn't have much when you came here, so we researched what an anxious, depressed, drug addict could want in rehab," Psycho says, "And besides drugs, it was...well, what Blue is holding behind her back."

She smiles and it's almost like she's...nervous? Why would Blue be nervous? She opens her mouth and starts to ramble. "This whole thing, it was my idea. So if it's lame, just, I don't know, pretend you like it until you-"

"I'm gonna like it no matter what," I tell her, acting on a feeling of bravery when I reach out to touch her arm, moving it so the surprise is visible. Her skin turns warm on my fingertips as I slip the newspaper-wrapped package from her grasp.

I open it carefully, peeling the tape off and unwrapping the newspaper until a white composition notebook becomes visible. I can't contain my smile or the tight feeling in my throat.

"You like it?" Blue asks, lip pulled between her teeth anxiously. I nod, completely oblivious to the world around me because these people, the same kind who I could never quite figure out, found a way to get me a gift they thought I would love. They don't even know me.

I've lived with the same foster father for a year and a half and then last present I got was...well, a trip to Helmuth's and a kick to the curb. I shake my head in disbelief, heart aching while it beats happily. Maybe the crazy ones aren't the bad ones in this place.

"Shakey, don't cry, it's just a notebook!" Smokey exclaims, lifting the corner of her gray jacket and wiping a stray tear from under my eye.

I sniffle, laughing a little. "It's just...you guys haven't known me for a day and you get me this amazing gift...I don't know what to say, really."

"We'd all accept a thank you, I think," Heroin suggests. The group nods in unison.

"Thank you all, I wish I could do something remotely as kind as this."

Crack hums, his arm wrapped around Smokey's waist. "Hugs? We all like hugs."

I mentally groan. Anxiety doesn't like hugs. Anxiety likes empty places with no people and especially no hugs. But the second I touch the black spine of the notebook, I get up and open my arms.

In an odd way, their hugs give a sort of insight on their journeys.

Smokey is like hugging your sister, full of warm care and tenderness.
Cuts, she hugs like an old friend that I don't remember meeting but I don't plan on forgetting.
Heroin holds me like a brother, strong hands patting my back.
Crack giggles halfway through, like he's grateful for my embrace.
Psycho doesn't do hugs, due to the fact he's "not the best at keeping his hands above the belt". I guess I'm flattered he was considerate about it.
Skinny holds on tight, bony fingers rubbing my shoulders and hip bones kind of stabbing me in the thigh.

And, lastly, there's Blue.

"Come 'ere," she whispers, holding out her arms and I practically fall into them, melting under her touch. She nudges her nose into my neck, the scent of vanilla shampoo filling my senses. Her arms easily hold my small body, hands resting just over the space between the band of my sweats and the bottom hem of my shirt.

She hugs like she's saying goodbye, like you'll only have her once. I don't see myself letting go.