Obscurity

Chapter 44: Bottles

Sierra

After filling my entire bottle with nothing but blackness, I sit back and watch everyone else work diligently on filling their own bottles with a myriad of different colors. Each color depicts a stereotypical feeling or emotion. Alma hasn't made a single mark or produced any splashes of color on her bottle paper. Nick has a few different colors on his. I spy green, blue, and red. All typical of Mr. Emo. I do appreciate his caption across the one section, though. It says something about hating this place. I'm sure most of us can agree with that sentiment.

"Alma, if you don't color like all the other good little girls and boys, you will not be receiving your participation sticker today." I tease with a sly grin. She shrugs and sits back in her chair. She doesn't seem to care to participate today. I don't blame her.

Stacy walks along the tables and surveys everyone's work. She seems pleased overall but I saw the disappointed look in her eye when she looked at my paper. It made my day really. I hope my shitty feelings about being here transferred to her and made her day a little less great. Fuck this place and everyone who works here. And I mean it. I'm so over being here. I'm also beginning to hate these Group sessions. It feels like preschool most of the time. I mean seriously. Fucking crayons and markers? Whatever.

I look over to the table next to ours and see Spencer has expertly and efficiently colored in his bottle with every fucking color under the rainbow. How fake can he be? No one in this place, especially someone wearing a blue wrist band, is feeling any kind of pink, yellow, or purple. I wonder if Stacy is buying his shit. I wouldn't if I were her. I can spot a phony a mile away. Who knows? Maybe he's just coloring in whatever he thinks Stacy wants to see. If I wasn't in such a crappy mood, I probably would've done the same thing. Maybe he's some brilliant genius. That's what I will go with for now. He's probably just playing the game. Plus, he's hot. So, that gives him a pass too. I giggle under my breath at that last thought.

"Okay everyone." Stacy announces to the Group. "I see you've all just about finished up your activity. We're running a little over time today, so if everyone's satisfied with their work, please return the supplies to the tables, collect your work, and I will see you all tomorrow." She beams her bright white smile at us. Thank goodness this Group is over with. I was worried for a moment that she was going to ask everyone to share their art and explain their feelings. No thank you. I let out a sigh of relief that it didn't come to that.

We file out of the Group room and into the hallway outside of it. Alma walks with me, head down, not saying much. I elbow her playfully.

"What's with you today? You've got to snap out of this, Alma."

She just shrugs and shuffles along next to me. This problem with Chris is really getting to her. I'm not sure what else I can say to try to help her out of her depressive mood so I just keep walking, at my normal slow pace and look around for Spencer.

He's a few paces behind us. I slow my walk even more to allow him to catch up. I fall into step beside him.

"How much fun was that?" I say mimicking Stacy's over the top positive attitude. He chuckles.

"It was about as fun as getting a tooth pulled."

"Oh, come on. I saw you in there. You were having the time of your life." I tease."Besides, you could totally enter your bottle into an art contest and actually win." I say admiring his worksheet he loosely holds in his hand as we walk.

He shoots me a wink as we approach the nurses station.

"Sierra. Meds." Chris says from the main desk. I cringe at the sounds of his voice.

"You too." He says, motioning toward Alma. She completely freezes. I nudge her with my shoulder.

"Come on." She follows beside me, keeping her eyes averted. This has got to be the worst-case scenario she's been playing in her mind all day. Interacting with Chris.

We reach the desk and wait by the entry to the nurses station. Chris walks into the back area and retrieves our meds. He comes back over to the desk and hands my cup to the nurse standing there.

"You'll dole hers." He says as he points at me.

I turn my attention to the nurse, and she hands me my cup. I wait to see if she's going to run through which drug is which with me like Cindy does. She appears to not know the protocol and doesn't say anything. I look over to Chris. He's busy giving Alma her cup. I look back to the nurse. She just stands there waiting expectantly for me to take my pills.

"I can't take these unless I know what they are.' I inform her.

"Just take your meds, Sierra." Chris says. Irritation evident in his tone.

I pour the cup into my hand and try to memorize the shapes and sizes of each pill. They all look familiar. I can't recall which is which but I think they're what I usually take. I shrug and throw them all into my mouth at once and chase them with the cup of water the nurse provided. I roll my eyes and open my mouth for the tongue check. She nods, and I'm allowed to proceed to the day room.

Alma catches up with me as I pass the day room toward our room. Her pace is quick, and I can tell she's tongued her meds. Hopefully not the anxiety pill. She really needs that one today. The rushes past me and makes it to our room before I do.

As I walk into our room, I hear her in the bathroom gagging. I swing a right into the bathroom and see her trashing the pill.

"Just one?"

"I took the anxiety pill." She says.

"How do you know which one was which?" I ask.

"I think... I don't know." She grabs her toothbrush and starts brushing her teeth. I look over in the trashcan. The half disintegrated rectangle-shaped, off-white pill is sitting right on top of the discarded paper towels in the waste basket.I shake my head.

"Damn it, Alma. I said to take this one." I fish the pill from the trash and show it to her in the palm of my hand.

"Well which one did I take then?" her eyes wide.

"I don't know what they prescribed you. Here, take this one. You need this one." I urge her to take the pill.

" I really don't want to." She protests.

"Please Alma. It'll calm you." I coax.

She stands with her arms crossed and stares at the pill in my hand.

"I'm serious. You need this one today." I press.

She lets out a huff of air, "Fine." She grabs the pill from my palm and quickly throws it to the back of her throat. She gags a little then rushes over to the sink, turns on the faucet and drinks directly from the tap.

"There, are you happy?" She says defiantly.

"Sure. But you'll be happier in a little while." I grin at her in the mirror. I push off of the door jamb I've been leaning on and walk over to my bed. I climb up on it and lay there looking at the ceiling. Alma shuffles around my bed to her own. She does the same thing I did, lays on her bed staring at the ceiling.

"I'm going to nap for a bit before lunch." I announce, never taking my eyes off the ceiling. I lean back on my pillow and cross my legs.

Alma stays half lying on her bed, her legs dangling off the side. Her hands are folded across her stomach, and she's staring toward the window. "Sweet dreams, Sierra."