Endless Love

Chapter Seventeen

Grace's POV

When we arrived in LA we drove straight to the treatment center, it looked so scary and the thought of me staying here for an indefinite time made me want to burst out crying there and then

Mom stopped the car and took my hand in hers "It's going to be okay, I promise" she said gently before opening her door and getting out

She grabbed my bags and we walked into the center. We walked to the receptionist and she told Mom to fill in some papers while we waited for my doctor

I sat on the chair beside Mom, sitting on my hands to try and stope myself from picking at the, I felt so nervous. My heart was beating so fast in my chest, I didn't want Mommy to leave me

I leant over and put my head on her shoulder and wrapped my arms around hers. She placed a kiss on my forehead and whispered in my ear "This isn't forever, just until you get better and then we can be together like you've always wanted. But I need you to get better first"

Tears pricked my eyes and I tried to hide my face in Mom

"Grace" I heard a voice call my name and felt Mom stand up leaving me exposed... this was it

I looked up and saw a female doctor standing there in front of me "Hi" she said giving me a wave

I tried to give a small smile back and then stood up and went to stand with Mom, taking hold of her hand

The doctor took us into her office and her and Mom talked for a little bit, I zoned out trying to think of a way to get this to stop, but I knew it wouldn't

"Grace I need to ask you a few questions and then I can take you to your room so you can get settled before lunch"

I felt dizzy.

I had to be weighed which I hated because it reminded me of how fat I was, although the doctor tried to make out I was 'severely underweight', I knew I was just a fat cow

She asked me about growing up and my life and the rape and just a bunch of random questions about what goes on in my head

Then she rambled on about treating my for an eating disorder, anxiety, depression and fucking separation anxiety. And then said that it was important that I opened up more about the rape.

I sighed and rolled my eyes

"What's up, Grace" the doctor asked

"You're trying to treat me for a bunch of illnesses that I don't have. I don't have anxiety or depression, or a fucking separation disorder and my eating habits are fine, I don't understand why everyone thinks I'm so fucked up" I shrugged my shoulders

"You're in denial, Grace. This is a normal reaction, soon you will realise that you are ill and that it's not your fault, you just need a bit of help"

"Whatever"

I wanted out of this immediately

She then took us to my room. It was small and was painted a sort of yellowy color, probably to try and make people feel better about themselves or some shit. The bed was a single and there was a little desk. The showers were communal, but I had my own toilet and sink. Apparently, there was a zero tolerance policy on razors, so that meant hairy legs...

She handed me a timetable of things that I had to attend, like my scheduled therapy sessions, group sessions and communal time in the common room so that I socialised. There was also built in time for exercise 3 times a week (nowhere near enough time for me to burn off all the calories I would be intaking). Visiting was on a Friday afternoon, Mom could come and spend time with me from 2pm until 7pm when it was dinner time.