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1x1's > Jess and Jae: Rehab Edition (BrookyBoo&KinnyKoo)

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message 1: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 3065 comments AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH<3

Here we go buddy!!
So where shall we start?


message 2: by [deleted user] (new)

OMG THIS IS GOING TO BE SO FRIGGIN' AWESOME LIKE OMG AAAAHHHH AND LIKE WHEN JESSE CRIES ON THAT BLUE BENCH AND JAE HOLDING HIS HAND AND JUST BLLAAAAHHHH

I don't know maybe when they first meet? didn't jesse say like he saw her at the table alone with her food and went to talk to her? Something like that? It was one of your first posts lol.

GAAHHH


message 3: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 3065 comments OMG I KNOW I CAN'T FREAKING WAIT!!!! WOOOOOOOOOT!! BUT WE CAN'T FORGET ABOUT THE PRESENT JESS&JAE THOUGH!!!!

I do remember saying that! Sure, let's start there. How should we do this though, like past tense, or present tense or third person or first person or....

AHHHHHH<3


message 4: by [deleted user] (new)

NOPE NOPE NOT FORGETTING ABOUT PRESENT J&J NOPE NOPE. BUT UGHH YEEESSSSS!

I still think we should go with first/present tense, just because we know them well with that tense, y'know? But if you want to do third, I'm super okay with that! ^-^

WOOO <3


message 5: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 3065 comments YEEAAAAH!

Nope! I'm good with what we have here! Emotions are so much easier in first person, and this RP includes lots of emotion!

WOOOOOOT WOOOOOT <3

So, shall we start with that scene then?
I can start us off if you want C:


message 6: by [deleted user] (new)

Yuuuuussshhh

OKAY! I'll go reply to the present Jess and Jae while I listen to Eminem..I don't even know why I'm listening to him ._.

I like his old songs.


message 7: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 3065 comments Mmmmmmhhhhhmmmmmmmmm

Nice! Can't wait to read it!

He is a pretty amazing rapper. Have you heard that new song where he raps so fast?!


message 8: by [deleted user] (new)

No, I haven't; like I said, I just listen to his old songs, haha. Just Lose It. Toy Soldiers. When I'm Gone. Mockingbird. Cleanin' Out My Closet etc...

What's the name of the new song?


message 9: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 3065 comments Yeah, the new stuff is kind of lame hahah.

I think it's called Rap God? I'm not entirely sure, I just heard it in gym class last week xD


message 10: by [deleted user] (new)

I shall go listen to it. :)


message 11: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 3065 comments (Sure!)

Jesse
Rehab is a lot like high school. You enter a strange building with a million hallways and a million new faces. And usually those faces are blank, dull, devoid of emotion, and you wonder what they’re thinking in there, if they’re thinking at all. They look at you with lifeless eyes, and you can feel them all judging you, even though they’re probably too burnt out to even give a shit about your existence. There are cool rooms in the place too, like the workshops or the art room, or the pool , which give a façade of being fun, yet those rooms are still a part of a place you’d rather not be, they’re still a place where you have to learn something. You’d rather be at home, watching TV, or playing video games.
Or in my case, shooting up.
As I walk into the ‘cafeteria’, no one looks up from their food. Not that I’d notice if they were looking at me anyway. I’m fresh out of detox, so I’m exhausted, emotionally and physically, my entire body hurts, and I’m fucking starving. I haven’t eaten for days, because whatever I got down my throat would just come racing back up when my body rejected it. I’d been pumping it with so much crap that that was all it was used to anymore. Anything actually solid would make me so sick. But, the counsellors deemed me well enough to go eat with everyone else, so here I am. All I want to do is crawl back into bed and just forget all of this.
I follow the guy in front of me, pick up a plastic blue tray and get in line behind him. Every place is the same. I meet the same kind of people, talk to the same kind of counsellors, sleep in the same kind of bed and live in the same kind of room. Even these stupid trays look like the ones from the last place I was in. And who knows, maybe they are. Maybe they share or something.
Food is piled onto my tray, none of which look appetizing. Actually, it makes my stomach curl a little at the thought of eating it. Ah, look, another similarity to high school. The food is still shit.
I look up from my tray, and for anyone watching, I probably look a little lost. There isn’t a single open table. Once again, another similarity! Finding a place to eat in the lunch room when you’re alone. You have no idea where to sit, who to sit with. It’s all too much to think about, which is why I’d go out and smoke pot instead.
So I don’t look like an idiot, I sit down at the table nearest to me with the least amount of people. The table I choose only has one girl sitting at it, and I think I can handle that. There are a few really crowded tables, and the thought of joining one like that makes my breath a little short.
The girl sitting in front of me is pale, and skinny as hell. Although, I shouldn’t say much, because I’ve been shooting meth for six months before Dad put me in here and I lost close to sixty pounds because I’d never get hungry when I was high. I’d go three or four days without eating or sleeping. Sounds extreme, yeah, but you get a lot of shit done when you don’t waste time sleeping or preparing food.


message 12: by [deleted user] (new)

Jaelynn
"Now, Jaelynn, I want you to make an effort to eat something today, alright? A few calories isn't the end of the world, sweetheart. Start with something simple, like a few grapes; you can do that, right?"
Well, Mrs. Turcott, here I am with a bowl of grapes in front of me and I'm letting you down once again. The juice i placed outside of my tray, alongside the frozen chicken with a salad and the assortment of crudities in a small bowl alongside the ranch dip in a smaller container. But the only thing on my blue tray is the bowl of grapes.
Just one. Does she know that for one grape, I'd have to run at least an hour to make sure I burned off the excess fat it probably has? I don't need the sugar in my body, okay? I've had my fair share of calories with the medications they're making me take that already have vitamins and calories in them. Fuck them because one trip to the bathroom and they're gone. Completely and utterly gone.
I can't do this. She doesn't understand that I can't lose weight by eating more. She doesn't understand anything! What a fucking bitch! Who the fuck is she to tell me what to do? Why am I in this fucking hellhole to begin with?
I jump when someone suddenly comes and sits at my table. No one sits with me; they think I'm some crazy bitch. Which they wouldn't really be far from reality, I'm not nice to many people mostly because they're all so fucking stupid. Out of curiosity, I look up and I'm met with a pale boy with black hair with his own tray of crap. Is he going to eat all of that? I think I'll throw up for him if that's the case.
Out of instinct, I pick up one of the grapes and look down at it and with my other hand, I use my nail to poke a tear the first layer of skin then I proceed to slowly peel the skin off of the grape. "Did you know that chicken has 266 percent more fat than it did forty years ago?" I ask him, staring at the breast on the plate in front of my tray, probably not all that good anymore.
When you're dieting seriously, it's good to know your facts; tells you what to and what not to eat. And somehow, none of it has been working for me.


message 13: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 3065 comments Jesse
I pick up the plastic fork and knife they threw onto my tray, and try and decide what to eat first. None of it looks any good, so I set them back down and lift the juice box they gave me, as if I’m fucking four years old again. I unwrap the straw, and then stab it into the top with a little more force than I probably need. I take a sip, and the apple juice actually feels amazing as it slides its way down my throat. When was the last time I drank something like this?
I happen to glance up at the girl in front of me, and she’s staring at her plate as if the food is going to jump off the plastic and eat her face right off. Although, I don’t really blame her, the food does look like it could be alive. I mean, I swear I just saw something twitch.
The more I look at the girl though, the more I realize how fragile she looks. She looks exactly the way I feel. Like my insides are glass, and if I tripped, everything would break. I know I’ll feel like that, but tenfold when I get out of this place. Everything will tempt me, and I’ll lock myself in my bedroom for three weeks until I think I can handle it. But it hasn’t worked the last three times, so why should this time be any different? All the treatments are the same, and none of them work for me. Maybe my head is just too think to absorb what they’re trying to tell me in places like this. DRUGS ARE BAD. But then why do they make me feel so goddamn good?
The sound of her voice breaks me out of my thoughts and once again, I look up to see her skinning her grape like a fish. She tells me that chicken has 266 percent more fat in it than it did forty years ago. “I didn’t know the exact number,” I say as I set my juice box down on the table. “But I kinda figured, I mean, considering the amount of chemicals they pump into the chickens nowadays to make them fatter.” Kind of sounds what I do to myself, only it makes me skinnier and crazier. People look at me on the streets like they’re scared of me, and I’m pretty sure we’d act the same way about those chickens if they wandered the streets like I do. Fucking franken-chickens if you ask me. I guess that makes me the mad scientist, mixing drugs together until I’m fucking wrecked.


message 14: by [deleted user] (new)

Jaelynn
Slowly, I pick up the napkin that lies beneath the utensils, unfold it neatly and smoothly spread the rectangle shape flatly on the tray. I set my first peeled grape and pick up a new one out of the bowl, doing the same to the second grape. I set the peels on the other half of the napkin; the part that's going to waste. Well, all of it's going to waste if I can figure out how I'm going to do it.
I observe my surroundings and I know I'm being watched, everyone's being watched here and it drives me up the crazy wall. Well, more than I already am. But I've already got a plan and there's no way can I fail it. Not this one.
He goes and talks about chemicals and products being injected into the kitchen and I nod, completely agreeing with him as I finished off my second grape. On with the third one. "I think they want to make us like chickens here." I tell him quietly, my eyes glancing at one of the monitors walking around. "They want us to get fat so society can eat us, y'know?" I shake my head, concentrating my stare on this damn piece of stubborn grape skin. "I refuse to let them manipulate me like that. They always tell you that you need to gain weight because the charts say you don't fit accordingly to society's standards. What the fuck do they know?" I keep my voice calm as I set the third grape down and continue fort. I don't bother tucking my hair back no matter how much it's in my face.
Despite myself, I glance up at him once more, then at his tray and shake my head.
"Did you know that juice boxes hold on average of 98 calories? Two percent fat, ninety-seven percent carbs and one percent of processed protein?" So many numbers I have no trouble remembering because they're all for my health's benefit. All of it. It's to help me obtain my goal; the goal not everyone thinks is very realistic but I'm going to show them that I can do this. Fuck this place that's supposed to 'rehabilitate' me; my mom only sent me here to make herself feel better.


message 15: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 3065 comments Jesse
So, at first I think this girl is a meth addict, like me, but someone who’s used it so long they’ve gone fucking crazy. She talks about society eating us like chickens, and I just nod so she won’t leap over the table and rip the skin off my face if I disagree. She seems satisfied with that though, because she continues skinning the grapes and setting them down on the napkin. She looks at the juice box on my tray, and then start listing off the calories, and fats and whatnot, like I care what the hell is in a juice box. Seriously, I could care less. I’ve been injecting fucking battery acid and drain fluid into my veins for the past couple years. A little apple juice isn’t gonna hurt me.
But, I think it could hurt her.
Because she’s one of those girls with an eating issue. What’s it called? Anorexia or something? I’m pretty sure there’s another type, maybe two, but I have no idea what their names are. I just call them eating issues. I dated a girl in high school once who had once of those. She’d eat lunch with me in the cafeteria, and then would be in the bathroom for a half hour while I waited at the table for her alone, since all our friends got impatient of waiting. I honestly just thought she was constipated or something, and was too embarrassed to ask, until I heard her throwing up in my bathroom after we had dinner with my Dad. It kind of grossed me out a little, truthfully.
Obviously, our relationship didn’t last long after that episode.
“I do now, I reply as I pick up the juice box, and turn it around so I can see the nutrition label. I skim it over, seeing she’s right, and then I start to drink it again. “It’s still good,” I mumble around the straw with a shrug. I’m not really sure what to say here. I’m worried if I say the wrong thing, she’ll skin me like one of her grapes.


message 16: by [deleted user] (new)

Jaelynn
He does now.
And yet he's still drinking.
But he's not fat, so it's okay. Lucky bastard. Not everyone has it so easy when it comes to their weight and I find it infuriating that people have no problem shoving it in my face. Plus, it's good. "I bet it is." I murmur quietly, finishing off my fourth grape and then don't bother with anymore. Instead, I grab my plastic knife I'm sure is more than capable of doing the job of a blade, only with less consistence but I'm okay with that. My long sleeved shirt hides everything but underneath, there are all the traces. Every single one of them. But for now, I just focus on delicately cutting the grape in half and then with the other three. I'd kill to get out of this place, I'm serious when I say this. If I had to kill just one person in order to be free from these reigns, I'd do it in a heartbeat.
"So what's your story anyway?" I ask, still not looking up at him as I focus on cutting my halves into quarters and quarters into eights but by then, the grapes have lost their solidness so they're becoming mushy. I continue anyway, as if I'm performing surgery on these green ingredients.
What is he in here for? Substance abuse? Parental abuse? Rape victim? Mental disorder? The government finds any reason for you to get away in order to become 'normal'; they don't understand that their normal is someone else's definition of terrifying. What do they do with those people? Send them to jail. Solitary confinement for those who aren't allowed to go to rehabilitation centres like these.
Where is the line drawn between jail and rehab?


message 17: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 3065 comments Jesse
She really doesn’t like grapes.
I can see that by the way she’s cutting them up, as if she’s trying to make the food disappear. Half, fourths, eighths, mush. I watch as the liquid from them seeps into the napkin. She’s really making a mess. I want to tell her to stop, but it’s not really my place. I just suck on my juice box until it’s empty and I suck it thin. Then I squish it between my hands, making it flat. I lie it down on the try and pick at the grapes I’ve gotten myself. They’re kind of soft, which makes me gag a little, but I force them down anyway.
After a few minutes of silence, she’s asking me about my story. I don’t really think we’re supposed to talk about it with other patients, because it could be a trigger. But what the fuck, she asked.
“Drugs.” Simply done, simply put. “Meth,” I say, just so she knows. I don’t know why she should know. Maybe I just like saying the name because I miss it in my veins. Meth, meth, meth, meth. Ugh, see, it was actually a trigger. I can feel the craving course through me, almost like a huge Californian wave that threatens to knock me over.
Quick! Distract yourself fool!
“So what about you?” I lean on my elbow and try to ignore the fact that my veins are screaming. “What are you here for?” I don’t know why I’m asking, since I’m pretty sure I have an idea. But, a little clarification does help sometimes. Like now. Maybe she’s just a psycho. Maybe she threatened to stab someone and chop them up, like those poor grapes right there. She isn’t much different from the people I hung around with outside of rehab.


message 18: by [deleted user] (new)

Jaelynn
Drugs. He's in here because of drugs. Fair enough; Meth, to be exact. I've never met a drug addict before, not in these circumstances, so my curiosity makes me look over at him once again, take in his appearance to its fullest. Yeah, I can kind of see how he's a druggie. I mean, it's in the eyes, really. The only time I look down at my grapes again is when he asks why I'm here. To this, I just shrug at first, poking the mush with the knife before I brought the plastic knife to my finger and ran the jagged edges along my fingers gently. I just want to see if it can do the job. If I try hard enough, it's more than enough, I find. But just because it's currently making me forget about how bad I need to do this, I continue playing with the fake blade.
"The doctors say I have a health problem." I mumble, the white of the cutlery only invigorating my need to slit this across my wrist. "They say I'm anorexic and suffer from depression." I nod my head a few times, recalling all the moments and all the times someone's made a remark about my weight or how I didn't seem happy. Fuck them all. "And then they say I have a self-harm problem. They're all problems they think they can solve. But what if I like doing it? Is that such a bad problem?" I meet his gaze seriously, wondering what he thought of all of this.
"I mean, seriously, if the person likes doing it and they're aware that they're doing and they accept it, how's that such a bad problem? Sure you family isn't proud but who gives two shits about what someone else thinks?" I taste the lie on my tongue but I've said it so many times, I just hope the bad breath of it doesn't reach him. I don't want him to think I'm hung up on losing weight because I'm fat.
I just don't, okay?


message 19: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 3065 comments Jesse
Hah. I was right. Score for Jesse. But as she goes on, I forget that I'm a bit of a smartass and actually listen to her. And everything she says, I've thought to myself multiple times before. It's like, she my kindred spirit or something, and I just grin.
"Holy shit," I breathe, my grin staying steady. "It's like you can read my mind or something."
I've alwayd thought that same thing. If you're happy, shouldn't the people that love you be happy for you? If you've found that one thing that fills that hole inside you, shouldn't they be glad for you? Shouldn't they encourage you to continue, instead of sticking you in a place where they don't have to worry about you anymore? Seriously, I am sick of being discarded for a dumb junkie. Like she said, I know exactly what I'm doing. I know the health risks, and everything, yet I still do it, because I love to. And if no one can understand that, there really isn't any use explaining it to them, right?
"I'm Jesse," I say after a moment. I think that maybe sitting here wasn't a bad idea after all. If I can relate to the girl in some way, it can't be all a mess. She looks like she means well. Not to those grapes of course, but to me and everything else. But I have only been sitting here for ten minutes. First impressions are often deceiving. Boy, don't I know that. I've had a few close calls with some shitty deug dealers who seemed okay at first. Never trust anyone on the street.


message 20: by [deleted user] (new)

Jaelynn
It's like I can read his mind? Does that mean he agrees with me? What...? No ones ever understood what I meant before. Not the therapist, not Mrs. Turcott or Jasper who's an alcoholic or Lacey the pill addict, no one. But somehow, seeing the smile on the boy's face, I know that he's not lying. He really does understand me.
It's kind of a really good feeling inside.
His name is Jesse and for a second, I'm thinking that he's some sort of transgender. I mean, Jesse's a girl name, right? Then again, the name sort of suits him; not because it's feminine but...I don't know. I kind of like it. "Jaelynn." I murmur in reply, the corner of my lip twitching upward at the thought of having made a possible ally in this hellhole. Mrs. Turcott is going to be happy, right? Unless I'm not supposed to be making friends, in which case I think I'll just sign myself out. Can I do that? I don't even know.
"We should get out of here." I murmur quietly, looking at his tray of food and then my mushed grapes and other contents I haven't touched. "Well, you can eat, I'm not hungry anymore." I tell him, more than ready to get out of here.


message 21: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 3065 comments Jesse
Her name’s Jaelynn. Different, I’ve never heard that name before. But it suits her face. I wonder if she has a nickname. Does she prefer Jae, or Lynn? Or maybe she doesn’t have a nickname. Maybe she just likes to be called Jaelynn. I don’t know her well enough to start spitting out nicknames, so I keep the thought to myself. I don’t want to blow this. Getting someone’s name on the first day of being set loose with everyone else? Yeah, that’s gotta be a record for me. The small smile she shoots in my direction suits her too, but I have a feeling she doesn’t do it very often.
Last time I was in rehab, I didn’t really socialize with anyone. Yeah, sure, I took part in those stupid group talks, but mostly I just said as few words as they’d let me, and then I’d listen to everyone else. Usually I’d just zone out and think about other things. My last counsellor said rehab didn’t work for me the last few times because I wasn’t interested in getting better. Well, no shit. Why should I get better when I don’t even have a fucking problem? Yeah, I’ve overdosed a few times, but that was by accident. It’s not like I did it intentionally… Okay, the last time I did, but the other couple times, completely by accident.
I look up in surprise when she invites me to ditch with her. She takes a few steps back and says I can finish eating, but I shake my head. “I lost my appetite when they dished this crap out.” But I’ll take the grapes with me. They’re the only thing I can stand. “So…” I trail off, looking at her expectantly. “Where are we going?”


message 22: by [deleted user] (new)

Jaelynn
He says he's ready to go as well and I nod my head. "I'm not allowed to leave until I've eaten at least the chicken." I tell him, staring at the lump of meat on the untouched plate. I bite my lip and glance at the monitor once again. I can do this, for the sake of getting out of this place. "Wait for me outside." Is all I tell him before I reach forward, grab the chicken and before I can think of it, I take a bite of it, drop the chicken back onto the plate and place everything back on the tray.
It's disgusting in my mouth, I can literally feel the fat on the skin and on the meat itself. Just a few more moments. I grab the tray turn around and plant a smile on my face as I make my way over to the monitor. "Kevin, look, I ate the chi-" The enthusiasm in my voice I hope sounds real makes him turn around but within a moment, my tray slips out of my hands and crashed on the floor, along with the plates that go shattering, sprawling the food everywhere.
Oops.
Not.
The piece of chicken is still in my mouth and I can feel it begin to grow mushy just like those grapes and I refrain from gagging when Kevin rushes over and begins asking if I'm alright. I feign the shame on my face and I look down, nodding meekly. "I...I'll go grab some paper towels from the bathroom; I'm so sorry."
"Be quick, alright?" Kevin tells me and I nod fervently before I take off in a small jog toward the door. All the while I bring my hand to my mouth and quickly force the chicken into my hand because I honestly can't wait until I'm actually in the bathroom. I push the door open and run down the hall and burst into the bathroom, lock it and drop to my knees by the toilet.
I can't risk an extra one percent of fat from the two hundred sixty six percent to enter my body.


message 23: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 3065 comments Oh my goodness, I didn't know you posted!! So sorry dude!! I shall reply ASAP.


message 24: by [deleted user] (new)

Same with the present Jae and Jess! I soo didn't see it Dx


message 25: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 3065 comments Stupid notifs! >.>


message 26: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 3065 comments Jesse
She tells me she can’t leave until she’s eaten the chicken, and then she proceeds to look at it like it’s been stuffed with rat poison. I kind of wonder what she’s thinking while she looks at the food, and I can almost see her mentally calculating the calories. It must suck, to have such a restriction on something so… automatic. I almost tell her that I’ll eat the damn thing for her, but then she’s sticking a piece in her mouth and rushing towards the cafeteria supervisor with a big, shit eating grin on her face. I wonder what the hell that’s for. Does she have a thing for that guy? But before I can think anything more of it, she’s tripping over her own shoes and the tray goes launching itself all over the guy’s shoes. If she’s trying to gain points here, it really isn’t working. Not really the way to pick up a guy, but hey, whatever floats her boat I suppose.
She races off towards the bathroom, and everyone turns back to their food, so I rise from my chair, picking up my tray and carrying it towards the garbage, where I dump it and set the tray on top. I glance towards the bathrooms before I shove my hands into my pockets and head for the doors. Surprisingly, no one stops me, and I shrug the door open with my shoulder feeling a little bit better about this place. I mean, it’s a fucking rehab, and I hate this shit, but if they don’t stop me from going as I please, then maybe this is going to be a little more bearable.
I lean against the wall outside the cafeteria doors and wait for Jaelynn to come back out of the bathroom. I consider going back in there to help her, but I don’t even know her, and decide against it. I could rub her back, but would she rub mine? I’ve learned the a lot of people are just out for their own personal gain, and I’m probably one of those people. I admit it, I’m selfish, and always make sure that I’ve got what I need first. But, sometimes, if you’re nice to people, they’ll give you deals, or free stuff. Drugs for half off. Although, I really doubt an anorexic girl would have drugs in a place like this anyway.


message 27: by [deleted user] (new)

(view spoiler)

Jaelynn
It's in my mouth. In my fucking mouth. I feel it try to slide down my throat. Fucking grease, it's always everywhere. I think I'm done throwing it up and it's a damn good thing I managed to catch it before it's too late. My throat is killing me and my ribs feel like collapsing from the inside but I stay strong.
Just like I have for eighteen fucking years.
I stumble out and turn the cold tap on the sink and I take two minutes to rinse my mouth thoroughly and wash my hands until I'm convinced I've killed every bacteria living.
I wonder if Jesse actually is waiting for me outside. No, I don't think so. I'm sure he's thinking I'm a crazy bitch, or maybe he hears what goes around. But I'd be lying if some of the rumours about me sleeping with a few of the workers were, in fact, lies. But hey, it didn't come out of my mouth, I can say that much.
I sneak my way through some of the halls, knowing that a few of the employees know that I tend to head out when I'm not supposed to. Whatever. They can bite my dust. Finally, I open the front door and step out into the broad daylight. I can't help but wince as the light temporarily blinds me. When my sight finally adjusts, I look around for Jesse.
It doesn't take long to find him.
He's actually there.
I take my time walking over to him because my body feels like shit and I don't want to collapse when I've just escaped the hellhole, even if just for a few minutes. "Let's walk," I tell him, my steps already bringing me forward as I cross my arms over my chest.
"Have you ever tried committing suicide?" I ask him as if I ask everyone else the same thing, which, to some degree is true. But only the people who are admitted here. It always surprises me how many people here haven't.
Because the number of times I've tried are not enough to count on my fingers and I'm wondering if maybe there's something I'm not understanding or everyone is too stupid to grasp the fact that there is no point in living.
None.


message 28: by Brooke (new)

Brooke | 3065 comments (view spoiler)

Jesse
I wait.
And I wait.
And I wait.
Well, they say that girls take forever in the bathroom, and I guess that`s true, to some extent. Today it`s true anyway. So I take this time to scout out my surroundings, search out escape routes, that sort of thing. It takes that anxiety away when I know I have a way to get the fuck out of here. Even though I know that if I ditch this place, I`m going ot be living on the streets, because my Dad and his fucking bimbo girlfriend won`t take me back.
Bunch of pricks.
We`re basically in the middle of nowhere. Everywhere I look, there`s trees. So much fucking green. You know, at one point, green used to be my favorite colour, but now it`s been linked to rehab forever. And I hate this place, so naturally, I hate that fucking colour. I used to like the forest too, but now I find comfort in the high skyscrapers and loud noises of a busy city. Everything is predictable in the city. There`s the assholes, the crazy streets, the drug dealers, the mindless hookers. Out here, anything could be behind the trees.
Finally, the door swings open, and out walks Jaelynn, looking like she doesn`t have the energy to walk. Isn`t she here so she can get help? Or at least, forced into it like everyone else? But, hey, it's not any of my business, so I just wait until she approaches me. For some reason, she looks a little surprised to see me, and I figure that she must have thought I'd ditch her. But listen, when I say I'm going to do something, I'm going to do it. In this case, I said I'd hang out with her, and that's what I'm doing. I'm going to hang out.
Not a single 'hi' is thrown in my direction, just a curt 'let's walk', and then she's taking off ahead of me as if she can't get herself far enough away from here. I don't really blame her. I push myself off the wall and follow after her.
I don't even get a word out before she spits out this question that kind of catches me off guard. Have I ever tried to commit suicide? Not the most common conversation starter, but I guess anything goes in rehab.
But the truth is, it's kind of hard to tell a complete stranger a very personal thing like that. I mean, yeah, I think about it almost all of the time. And yes, I've shot up more than I can take intentionally. I've OD'ed more than once. I just like to blur everything out and feel whole for a while. And that's what drugs do for me. I feel like nothing is wrong. There is only right. But the weird thing is that I don't really have a reason to feel so... in half.
"Uh, I guess so. If overdosing counts." I shrug and kick at the stones on the path in front of me. "Have you?"


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Jaelynn
We start to walk and my eyes find their way up to the sky, only to be met by blue, blue and more fucking blue. There isn't a speck of white outside and the sun isn't beaming down on us. It's kind of nice not having this huge ball of fire try to melt you into oblivion. On second thought, it's really nice.
Jesse takes a little bit to answer and I give him all the time he needs in the world. As far as we, as humans, are concerned, we do have all the time in the world. He says he has, due to overdose and I can only nod my head and wrap my arms around myself as I walk slowly.
"It only counts if you wanted to die." I point out softly, hence the whole meaning of suicide. There's a difference between an accident and wanting to die. It doesn't always seem like it, but there's a fine line, believe me. I don't look over at him when he asks if I have and I wonder if I should lie, which would make the truth obvious or tell the truth and risk being asked more questions. Well, if I'm using my judgement, he doesn't seem like the type of guy to persist on a subject but I could be wrong, very, very wrong. Oh what the hell; we're in this place to 'get better', right?
"Sixteen times." I tell him, finally daring a glance in his direction before I look forward once more. "Death is too tempting, it's just so easy, you know? I mean, if you don't believe in God, it's just one little act and then it's nothing forever. You just die and everything goes away." I pause and look up at the sky once more, trying to picture someone imagining a heaven up there.
"It's kind of a really nice thought, I think." Somehow, I find myself jutting a few rocks out of the gravel path, keeping myself a little busy. It seems that talking sort of comes naturally to me when I don't think about it. But these are just my thoughts on the world, or death in particular. It's not like it means anything. Especially not to someone I've just met.
Come to think of it, I probably shouldn't say anything if he's actually agreed to come take a wander with me. No one's ever done that before.
So maybe I should just shut the fuck up.


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Jesse
She tells me that it only counts if I really wanted to die, and while we walk, I think about that. Have I ever really, really wanted to die? I don't think I have. I mean, I've been told countless times how I'm wasting my life by doing drugs, but, it seems better than just sitting around doing some sort of job, wasting my life in an office. At least I'm happy, unlike those people that do. Their goddamn skin is turning gray from the unhappiness they feel. Me, well, all I feel is sorry for them. At least I'm enjoying myself.
She takes a moment to answer my own wonders about suicide, and when she does, I'm surprised, but at the same time, I'm not. There's just something about her that whispers sad. Maybe it's the fact that I can see every bone in her face, or maybe it's the fact that when I look into her eyes, I see it. I just see a sad little girl that could've used another hug or something. Sometimes, I think that's all a person needs. A hug.
"Do you really believe that?" I ask, glancing up at the blue, blue sky. "Do you really believe there's nothing after this?"
I myself, am not really sure what I believe in. I was raised believeing there's a God somewhere, but I've grown to become unsure. I never hear from him. Not even if I pray really hard, I never get any sort of sign that there's someone watching over me. And if there's one thing that I've learned during my life, it's that no one really has your back. So if that's true, than God doesn't either. Which means everything is a lie. Which just leaves me feeling confused. I want to believe, I guess. I've tried. I want to believe that there is something after this, that my soul just doesn't disappear into the clouds. But I don't know. I just don't know.


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Jaelynn
I like how long it takes for him to answer the questions I ask him. I don't know why, I think it's because it gives me time to prepare myself for the answers he's going to say and it gives me some sense of assertiveness. Does that make sense? Probably not. I guess what I'm trying to say is that unlike the majority of the people here, he thinks things through.
And I kind of like that.
"Well, what would there be?" I answer his inquiry with one of my own, carefully avoiding giving an honest opinion. It's easy to flip the tables if you know how to do it. Out on the streets or even around those you love, you have to be really careful of your words and actions. I've affiliated myself with some gangs before and things didn't end well because I dared utter my opinion about the fact that hold-upping a local store wouldn't end well because of the cameras. It wasn't me who paid the price for my words, and I'm still not sure if I should feel guilty about it or relieved. It's one of those things I don't exactly think about on a daily basis. “I mean, if there’s nothing before you’re born, who says there’s something after you die?” I can’t help but finish, glad it is yet another question that comes out of my mouth.
My feet are starting to feel heavy. They do that a lot, and usually I can handle it but after I sit down for a few minutes. It’s as if I need to regenerate before I go on again. I look around, already looking for a place to sit down, but it can’t be just any seating space; it obviously can’t be near the facility itself because I’m not allowed to go out unless I let someone know, and I don’t know about Jesse so there’s that. There’s also the chance of the sun truly coming out and I don’t want to be hit full force by it, so some place with a little shade at least would be nice. But good things don’t come so easily to people like me, so I’ll probably just take the closest bench we get to.


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