The Journey Towards Yourself

Chapter 4

When I got back to the rehab center, I didn't speak to anyone. When I was spoken to I did not respond. What's the point anyhow? The desk woman shows me my room, which I will be living in for the next couple of months with 3 girls. All of who have been here for a lot longer than I have.

"This is Kathryn, Carlene, and Mackenzie. They are going to be accompanying you in your room. You can take the bed by the window if you would like," said the desk lady. The window was as small as a Kleenex box, and to make matters worse, there were bars covering it as if we were in an insane asylum.

I look over to Carlene, which I have met at the therapy session and her stare wasn't judgmental. It was quite warming to be exact.

The desk lady retreated out of the room but not before handing me some "complimentary" soap and shampoo.

"So. You're the new girl? What are you in here for? Crying too much cause' mommy and daddy wouldn't buy you a new Mercedes?" retorted Mackenzie. She must have picked up on my designer jeans and blouse. Coming to a conclusion that I was raised in a wealthy family.

I slumped my shoulders inward and didn't respond only giving Mackenzie another reason to torment her.

"Poor little rich girl can't defend herself? How sad." She flips her teal blue hair over her shoulder.

"Come on Mack. Leave the new girl alone. She hasn't done anything to you," states Carlene. Carlene picks herself up from her bed and holds her hand out to me. "I'm Carlene Donning, and that is Mackenzie Deeg. Don't worry. She was just joking around with you. She does that with all of the new girls. You'll get used to her, I promise." Her hand is still outstretched. I cautiously put my hand in hers and softly shake.

"Gwen. Gwen Summers," Carlene must of realized that we had seen each other before because she opened her eyes wider than they were and put her mouth in an "o" shape.

Mackenzie flew onto her bed and stretched out her limbs. "She's right, new girl. I do it to everyone, so don't feel to special," she laughed and winked at me.

I turned my attention to the girl, probably a couple years younger than I am, sitting in the corner of the room picking black chips off of her nails. Her dark makeup was intimidating, while her black lips were stained with a snarl.

Her black hair was shining against the little light that shone through the caged window, and her pale skin was almost see through it frightened me.

Carlene noticed that I was staring and wondering so she pitched in, "don't worry Gwen, she isn't anything to worry about. She barely even talks. Rumor has it she is in here for drugs, but I think it is anorexia."

Below my breath I muttered "Just like me."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Oh. Well alright. Dinner is in about 10 minutes so we will leave you alone to get your things together."

Without hesitation all three girls lifted themselves from their sitting positions and left the room shutting the wooden door behind them. I sat down onto my excuse of a bed. I sighed so deeply that the breath was lost inside me for a few moments causing me to choke and cough multiple times. My eyes filled up with tears.

I have never cried this much in a day before. I used to be tough and outgoing, always the carefree child that gave no care to what people said and teased me about. Then came high school.

People say high school is the place where you discover little pieces of yourself, but in reality it's a place where people knock you down over and over again, awaiting the time when you stand up again, just so they can push you down farther inside the hole they have already dug inside your soul.

The kids are cruel and vicious and the teachers give no care to the students and their feelings. Your grades, your weight, and your appearance are all that people really care about in this generation. The strive to perfection. To be liked and enjoyed in the company of others is what people look for these days. I guess you could say that is what happened to me. I was caught on the wrong side of things. I was always so caught up in the thoughts of what I had looked like that day and if I said something wrong in a conversation I had hours before.

I don't blame myself for my problems. I blame our society.