30 Days In Rehab

Day 1: Monday

"Okay, Stephanie, this is your room!" Says the cheery white girl as she wheels me into the room. The walls are baby blue, paired with sterile white book shelves, bed frames, and window sills.

This place reminds me of an insane asylum.

"Now I will be back in an hour to take you to the group session." She says, parking my wheel chair. "Group session." I mimic, uninterested. "Yes Stephanie, a group session," her tone mocks one that you would use to speak to a child. "In group sessions people are allowed a chance to vent their deepest feelings and receive feedback on them."

Meaning they say how they feel and then are judged and told that they shouldn't feel that way.

I roll my eyes and lean my head onto my hand as the woman walks out of the room. I don't want to be here. I don't need to be here. I can be 'recovering' perfectly fine at home.

But where is home? I don't have a home of my own. Ever since I left Nola I've been staying with other people. I never took the time and got a place of my own. I've become dependent.

I stand up out of the wheelchair slowly, my legs feeling strong beneath me.

My head hits the door again as Christopher punches me again. I watch in horror as he lifts his foot and slams it onto my ankle. I scream in pain as he grabs the same ankle that he crushed and drags me away from the door. "You fucking belong to me!" he shouts as he begins pulling and tugging at my sweatpants.

I'm on the ground, screaming for a solid minute before I open my eyes. I look around frantically before looking down at my legs, finding them still covered by my leggings. I let go of a deep breath before wiping my eyes.

It wasn't real Steph, It wasn't real.

---

"I believe everyone is here, so let's get started everyone." Says Joseph. Joseph is the group leader, a certified psychologist and also a licensed minister. Or at least that's what he says; I haven't seen not one diploma or certificate.

Nigga could be a fraud for all I know.

"Now, for those who have forgotten, I am Minister Joseph and this is a safe place where you can say how you feel without being judged."

Yeah, okay.

"Would anyone like to start us off?" He asks, clasping his hands and flipping his hair out of his face. His eyes roam around the semi circle that has been created until they land on my uninterested ones. "How about you, Stephanie, you're new, would you like to get us started? Anything you would like to say?" He prods, a friendly smile on his face. I suck my teeth, "I don't belong here," is what I wanted to say but instead I said, "Humpty doesn't belong here."

He looks at me with a raised eyebrow, "Humpty doesn't belong here? Who is humpty?"

I allow his questions to fall on deaf ears. I look to the floor and cross my arms, not daring to open my mouth. "If I interpret her statement correctly," someone voices, making me look up, "her saying that Humpty doesn't belong here is her way of saying that she doesn't belong here. Meaning her saying that she is Humpty Dumpty." Says the girl to the far right of me.

"Did anybody ask you?" I snap.

"Whoa Stephanie, we do not allow aggression in this here building. Lisa was simply offering her opinion and since this is a safe place she is allowed to do that." Joseph scolds, a friendly look still on his face.

Whatever, bitch needs to mind her business.

I suck my teeth and turn away from Lisa's direction, not speaking for the rest of the session.

---

"Hey Stephanie!" Someone calls as I walk back towards my room. Where is my room? What kind of architect puts 3 hallways right next to each other?

Lisa slides into my line of sight, a grin on her face, "Hey, I didn't mean to make you angry back there. I've been here for a while and I've gotten used to helping those who are stuck in their shells."

"Humpty isn't in a shell and Humpty doesn't need your help so get out of Humpty's face." I sneer, finding pleasure in wiping the grin off of her face. Rolling my eyes at her, I walk around her and down a hallway, not even knowing if my room is in the direction. Luckily, I went in the right direction because 2 minutes later I am finding my name on a door. I step into my room, pausing as I find a certain person sitting on my bed.

I make it to my dressing room, shoving the door open to find a relaxed Daniel on my bed. He sits up straight when he sees me, "what happened?!" He roars while getting off the bed and walking towards me. I didn't realize I was crying until he reaches out to touch me and I pull back, sobbing.

I take a step back as I blink a few times. Dawson, I mean Kenneth looks up at me with a crooked smile, "I told you I would visit you every day," He raises his hand, pulling up a Hip-hop Chicken bag, "even brought you food."

I've only been here for a few hours, you literally just saw me a few hours ago.

I don't say anything as I walk to him and fall face first on my bed, "How's everything going so far? What have they been having you doing? He asks as I sit up, sitting next to him. I grab the food from his hand, opening the bag. "Humpty hates it here." I mutter. Dawson tsks, "You'll get used to it eventually."

I pull out a piece of chicken and bite it, leaning my head onto Dawson's shoulder. A wave of Loneliness passes over me as I eat but my mind restricts me from thinking about it, from feeling it fully. "Your road to recovery, it won't be easy." Dawson says, "I'm not expecting you to suddenly become the way you were from when you were in New Orleans in 3 days but I think you will be fine soon. You're a strong woman, you will beat this."

I'm happy that one of us believes that.