Cut

Chapter 2

It was starting to get dark now and I slow down walking past houses with windows of square yellow light where mothers were inside making dinner past houses with windows square blue lights were kids were inside watching TV, to our house where the driver was empty and the lights were off I let myself in and flip the light switch there was an explosion of light. The kitchen slid sideways, then righted itself.
I leaned against the door "I'm home" I said to no one the room titled left, then right been straightened out I grabbed hold of the edge of the dinner table and try to remember if we stopped eating there because it was piled with junk or if it was piled with junk because we stopped eating there.
On the table there was a role batting a clue gun a doily and 1997 crafty kitchen's catalog next to the catalog was a special craft night with the word EXACTO on the head of it was sleek, from the fountain pen, with the fin triangular blade at the tip I picked it up and laid the blade against the doily. The little knots came undone just like that I touched the blade two a piece of ribbon draped across the table and pressed, ever so slightly the ribbon on unfurled into two pieces and slipped to the floor without a sound . Then I placed the blade next to my skin on my palm. A tingle arced across my scalp. The floor tipped up at me and my body spiraled away. Then I was on the ceiling looking down, waiting to see what would happen next. What happen next was that a perfect, straight line of blood bloomed from under the edge of the blade. The line grew into a long, fat bubble, a lush crimson bubble that got bigger and bigger. I watch from above, waiting to see how big it would get before it burst. When it did, I felt awesome, satisfied, finally. Then exhausted I don't tell you any of this though I don't say anything I just hug my elbows to my side. my mind is a video and fast forward video with no soundtrack and finally sigh and stand up and say "that's all the have time for today".

Twice a day we have a group therapy according to the brochure they give you at the admissions office, is the "keystone of the treatment philosophy" here at sick minds the real name of the place is sea Pines even though there is no sea and there are no Pines my roommate Sydney who has a nickname for everything calls it sick minds. her nickname for me is ST for silent treatment. We, by the way are called guest our problems are called issues most of the girls are anorexic they're called guest with food issues. Some are druggies they're they're called guest with substance-abuse issues. The rest, like me, are called attendants. And the place is called a residential treatment facility. It is not called a loony bin. There aren't assigned seats in group, but people tend to sit according to issued. The food issue guest Tara I really skinny girl who wears a baseball cap to cover the bald spot where her hair fell out and becca another really skinny girl who wears little girl tights that pool around her ankles and who came straight here from the hospital after she had heard attack, and Debbie really really overweight girl who says she's been here the longest it's been a cluster of orange plastic chairs next to Claire, The group leader. The substance -abuse guest, Sydney says she's addicted to every drug she's ever tried and Tiffany seems normal but is here instead of going to jail for smoking crack sit together on the other side of Claire's chair.
I sit by myself I pick the chair the furthest from Claire and closest to the window which they never open even though it's always about 100° in here today when Claire invite someone to start off I decide to work on memorizing the order of the cars in the parking lot brown white, blue,beige, brown , White, White, blue, beige,
"All right ladies" says Claire "Who wants to go first" Claire A little tent with her fingers and wait I lean back in my usual spot in the circle out of her line of vision Tara talked on her hair Debbie smooths her sweatshirt over her stomach and Becca sides of her chair and sit on the carpet Debbie's feet or legs tucked underneath her, girl Scout style no one answers.

Debbie cracks her weight control gum Tiffany who for some reason where's purse strap across her chest at all times fiddles with the latch.
"Ah, Come on" Claire says. "Yesterday was visiting day surely somebody has something to say about that"
I had a new cursed me a list brown, white, White, blue, beige, Green, red, brown, white, White, blue, beige, Green, red. " okai,okai " Debbie says this like everyone was begging her to talk "I might as well go first" there's scattered squirming, Tiffany rolls her eyes at Tara who is weak from not eating that she dozes off a lot during group leans her head against the wall her eyes droop shut.
"It was terrible" Debbie says "not for me, but poor becca" she gives beccas thin shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Wait till I tell you what--" Tiffany sighs and her enormous chest rises and falls. "Not for you Debbie? Then hoe come I saw you at the nurses' death last night begging for an escort to the vending machine?"
Debut turns red.
"How come you're always so willing to talk about everyone else's problems?" Tiffany says "what about yours? What's happen at your visit Debbie?"
Debbie regrade her "nothing really"
"Really" Sydney say's not unkindly
"Really" says Debbie
"That's crap" says Tiffany little drops of spit fly out of her mouth.
For Debbie this is a swear where she hates it when people swear. The temperature goes up about hundred and 100 degrees.
"Debbie" Claire says gravely, "how do you feel about what Tiffany say"
Debbie shrugs "I don't care"
Sydney points shaky finger and Debbie's direction " you do so" she says. "Your pissed why don't you admit it Debbie?"
Everyone waits