March - Falsettos Oneshots

Rehab

Ahaha it's so late and I'm so tired so sorry if this doesn't make much sense. Also, I chugged a ton of water as I wrote this chapter and for some reason I'm still thirsty. What the heck, body?! Anyways, hope you enjoy! I got the idea for some of it from a phrase that has been going through my head all day, and my friend Teresa inspired part of it :p ~ Cassie

It's hard to believe that I actually managed to drag myself out of the house and to one of these meetings. I probably never would have come here if it hadn't been for the combination of Mendel pestering me, my subconscious telling me to go through a hallucination of Whizzer, and the mysterious "Treena" incident Cordelia told me about. Though I only have a vague idea of what happened, I know I scared the crap out of Charlotte, and I really need to work on not becoming so wasted that I think I'm a tree. Regardless of everything that happened in the past, I am here now, and I am determined to change myself for the better.

I glance up at the flickering lights of the sign above me and take a deep breath. The building itself doesn't quite seem inviting. Built with deep red bricks and coated with peeling beige paint, it's an absolute monstrosity in my eyes. Cracks and miscellaneous brown and grey stains litter the walls, making me feel a bit sick to my stomach. Despite wanting so desperately to clean it up, that is not why I'm here. I need to get better for myself and for my family, and complaining about the structure of the rehabilitation center will not get me there. Well here goes nothing. I pull open the door with a bit of difficulty due to the hinges being old and rusted. As I walk inside, I notice that the lights are flickering as though they are trying so hard to stay alive but are dying all the same. The grim atmosphere almost makes me want to turn around and find someplace else, but I don't think that I will be able to afford a different place. And I certainly don't want to be even more of a burden than I am now.

Shakily, I walk up to the desolate reception desk, worried since there is absolutely no one in sight and the entire place is eerily quiet. Hesitantly I tap the bell lying there, not surprised when it makes a halfhearted ding that echoes through the small room. I stand for a while, looking around, but I can't hear anything other than the soft tick of a fan in the corner of the room. The longer I stay here, the more unnerved I become, but I stick it out, electing to sit on one of the chairs in the room. It lets out a long creak as I sit, causing me to tense up in the fear that it might break, but it doesn't give out underneath me. Suddenly, the door leading to the interior of the room slams open with a bang, giving me a mini heart attack. The person who opened the door whips his head around to face me, smiling widely.

"And who might you be?" he says cheerfully. "A new patient?"

"Uh, yes. I called yesterday and was told that I could come in for a meeting," I say nervously, staring at the man. He looks at me with a somewhat reassuring expression, calming me down slightly.

"Oh, so you're... Trina, right? Trina, uh..." He rushes over to the desk and grabs a clipboard, scanning it quickly. "Weisenbachfeld?"

I nod quickly. "Yes, that's me."

"My name is Christian. I'll take you back to meet the others now. Just sign this form, and we'll be good to go." I do as he says and follow him down the corridor. Though I expect it to have a similar atmosphere to the waiting room, I am shocked to find that it is almost the exact opposite. The walls are a soft cream and are incredibly clean, and murals are painted across them. On one wall is a meadow-like painting filled with vibrant green designs. Light and dark shades, ranging from a pastel to an almost-black intertwine to create a semi-realistic masterpiece. On the other wall is a winding river captioned "hydrate or die-drate." Though I'm not as impressed by this second wall, it has a good message.

Christian guides me through a second door that lies on the river wall, and we enter the room to find three other people sitting in folding chairs chatting, and all of them seem much younger than me. The one on the far left looks vaguely like Whizzer but a bit younger. His dark brown hair is a mess, and he seems to be vibrating as if he's having difficulty staying still for this long. He wears a white button down shirt which is completely untucked and has dark bags under his eyes as if he hasn't slept in days. The other two look completely stoned, with the one in the middle talking loudly and wearing a red hoodie coated with patches and the other acting much more reserved and donning a dark grey jacket. None of them notice that we have walked in until Christian clears his throat.