Sierra
Group sucks as usual. I can't even believe I agreed to come to this meeting. It's all the same old things. Nothing is new, ever. That is, unless there's a new person that's arrived. Then, we all go through the mundane task of sharing why we're here, so that we may hear why they are here. Big fucking whoop. No one cares why anyone's here anyway.
This whole therapy thing is a scam. There's no other way to slice it. It's a big redundant scam. They take your money while you're forced to sit here parroting the same shit over and over. I've had enough of it. It used to be fun. Hearing everyone's sob stories, gaining insight to their thought processes, how they tick. I used to use the information they revealed in Group to push their buttons later on. It's no fun anymore. Don't get me wrong, I love pressing people's buttons, it's my favorite pastime, but it's old.
I've been thinking about trying to get out of this place a lot lately. I never really thought about it before Alma came. She's been so dead set on getting the hell out of here, it made me wonder why I didn't mind being here as much. After I thought about it for a while, I figure I just got used to it. It's been all I know for the past year or so. I realized I missed being free. I miss eating out at restaurants. I miss taking walks. This place is a drag. Why I ever got complacent here, I'll never know.
But now, now I want to get out of here and try to start a normal life. Or at least, what could pass for normal, since there's no such thing. Being ordinary might be cool. I don't know. I just want to try something different. And you know what they say, if it doesn't work out, if the plans all go to shit, there's always rehab or this shitty place to come back to. I laugh inwardly.
"Is there something you'd like to share with us, Sierra?" Stacy asks from across the room. I look around and notice everyone's eyes are on me. It seems as though I've somehow interrupted their session.
I shake my head. Of course there isn't anything I want to share.
"You were kind of giggling over there, so I thought you had something you'd like to say or share with the rest of us." She persists.
"Nope."
"Okay, if you change your mind, feel free to speak up."
"Sure thing, Stacy." I say as I roll my eyes.
Stacy directs her attention back to her waiting Group. She looks around the circle and singles out Jim.
"Jim, is there something on your mind?"
"Plenty on my mind." He responds.
"Would you care to share?"
"Not really."
"Jim, perhaps if you do share, we could help you through anything that might be weighing on you." She offers.
Jim sits with his arms crossed and legs tucked under his seat. His body language couldn't be more clear. He doesn't want to be bothered, and he doesn't want to share.
"With all due respect, Stacy, I don't care to share anything weighing on my mind." Jim says with an edge to his voice. His glare says it all. He's over this bullshit Group too.
"Okay, Jim. Anyone else?" Stacy looks around the room.
It seems that no one wants to participate today. Too bad for Stacy. She seems to really want to engage the Group. She looks disappointed.
The door to the Group room opens, and Chris enters. Great. I have a feeling Group is about to liven up all of a sudden.
He takes a seat next to Lara and crosses one leg over the other. He doesn't say anything. He just sits there. The look on his face is expectant. I'm not sure what he expects to hear in here. No one wants to talk, except for Stacy.
YOU ARE READING
Obscurity
General FictionAlma finds herself involuntarily committed to a mental hospital where she must discover a way to win her freedom. Concealing her secret, navigating the personalities of fellow patients and currying favor with her doctors all become daily tasks for...