𝙧𝙚𝙝𝙖𝙗 ♀ 𝘢 𝘨𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺

pilot

baby don't you cry,
sex money
feelings die

manhattan, new york

"my name's jane, and i'm an addict" she wasn't sure how she got the words out, but every feeling of embarrassment and doubt was multiplied by three once she made eye contact with everyone that sat around her in the half circle

the room was gloomy, boring and plain. in an effort to try to spice it up, the "decorators" thought it would be a great idea to paint the room piss yellow

even though she told herself she wouldn't let herself feel anxious - she knew the room was filled with people who had been struggling just like her, maybe more - she unfortunately did. a white brimmed clock ticked in the corner, pinned to a wall

jane played with her nails, before continuing her story. although not before she recieved a "hi jane" from everyone, which, made her smile for a bit

her head looked up from the floor. she soon regretted it though, since she didn't know just why exactly she thought that was a good idea

"so, the thing about me is that- i remember everything" she started, protested to continue, but did anyways, "it- i know what you're thinking, oh no the junkie is going crazy already and this is her first day here, but no, i'm dead serious" the blue eyed girl scanned the looks on the peoples faces

"and i also know you think it sounds cool, and it is, you know? i got straight a's in school, got into a great college - until i dropped out" it earned a chuckle from the so called audience, "but with this cool party trick of mine, i can remember all the bad things i've done in life- and they haunt me every night"

by now, the sandy blonde girl was crossing her arms in an attempt to calm her nervous self down. the sole fact that she could make them laugh to lighten the situation was a relief. she felt the soft material of her grey zip up, which was, unzipped, and revealed the basicest black top ever in the history of basic black tops

"so at some point, i found a way to make the tormenting disappear- if you want honesty, i stole from my loved ones, wasn't there when they needed me and just lied to everyone about the state that i was in" she breathed in some air

"i came across weed, so i started using it. but then i got bored of it and became a little creative with my usage of... drugs and alcohol and cigarettes and practically anything and everything i could find" the air she had inhaled earlier, became a bunch of saliva, so she gulped it down as if she was taking a shot

"from there- i couldn't stop. i tried to, i really did" she looked up to make eye contact with those people, which she soon regretted. she kind of forgot she was afraid of giving speeches no matter how large or familiar the audience

"so now i'm here, in this room with strangers trying to get my life back on track. maybe even, i don't know- go back to college. so... yeah" she quickly wrapped up her speech and then sat back down on the foldable plastic chair

i wonder what my so called "soulmate" is doing right now?

jane knew she had a soulmate, alright. she would wake up some days with new bruises or wake up feeling down for no reason at all. one day, her wrist started hurting like crazy, it was nuts. she thought that they had just broken their wrist or something similar

she couldn't help but wonder, what was it like for them - jane sometimes had cigarettes taken out on her skin, and dealed with crazy withdrawal all the time. it must've been a pain in the ass when their veins felt funny, or when they'd get dizzy out of nowhere

"thank you, jane, for telling us your story. would anyone else like to tell their story?" a dark skinned woman asked, sitting on a similar chair to jane's. she was the mentor, and the person who was gonna help them overcome their addictive struggles

the womans name was alicia mclaurin. it, to jane, didn't sound like a name that belonged to someone who would be working in such a place as she was, but she brushed it off

after the conversation ended, they were all directed into their rooms. there were a total of four people per room - two bunk beds on each wall, one window that looked out into the secure yard with a basketball court, and a singular desk and chair between the two bunk beds - since it was quite a small rehab facility

the first four days were awful, - messy withdrawals and cravings, flashbacks of near-overdoses - but the other eighteen days were agonizing. she didn't want to remember everything, yet she couldn't live without it. two more months, and i'll be out of here, she thought to herself

on the other side of manhattan, lived a girl named cristina who, unlike her religious name, did everything and anything her religion advised not to do

you know, got drunk behind her parents back, got nipple piercings and stayed out until the sun came out, all while her mom and dad were asleep

"woo!" cristina cheered at the people of her age who were playing beer pong, a red solo cup of water in her hand

she was trying to sober up at least a little bit, knowing she would go back home, where her parents were expecting her

cristina didn't like living the life she had; everything she did was followed by rules, she had to be conservative, she had to be the perfect daughter a family could ask for, the perfect girl next door and the angelic child

the pressure it put on the young girl was enormous, not to mention the stress. she complained to her parents about it, but they just shut her down. it was boring, and challenging, - she wanted adventure and freedom - but in her eyes, her religion was the thing that stopped her

"cristina rey" a voice called out behind her, and she immediately turned around

"what do you want jackass?" she asked the blonde, tall boy in front of her. his nose crinkled up with a smile, "what? i can't even say hi? kinda rude"

"you wanna know what's rude? ghosting me for eight months and wanting to talk now" she smiled in her passive aggressive language

"you were counting the months? wow!" he replied after tucking his hands into his washed out blue jeans' pockets. shuffling his feet, he looked her up and down in a flirty manor

"you're fucking unbelievable, jack" she told him after walking out the house, onto the lawn, throwing her cup into thr neatly cut and watered grass

the blonde stood there and helplesly threw his hands in the air, and let them fall back to his hips

cristina put on a sweater to cover up the mesh shirt and black bra combo, which her parents would consider showy

the makeup wipes came flying from her small backpack as she began taking off the eyeliner. the veins in one of her handa started to feel funny, and she scratched herself, but winced at the pain her medium length acrylic nails caused after the scratch

she raised her sleeve to look at what she had done, or at least to see what was causing the itching from the begging. once she saw the red stain around her median vein, she sighed in dissapointment, - this wasn't the first time a reddish colour appeared on her skin, and she knew exactly what it was - dissapointed from not bring able to find her soulmate, which has been her life goal since she was thirteen.

yes, a soulmate, she couldn't believe it either - why would the universe be so kind to give her a soulmate, and not only that, but a frequent drug user, too?