We Did This to Ourselves

My First Day

I remember my first day here. First, the excruciatingly tense car ride. I sat in the back seat with my legs and arms crossed, looking out the window at the forever changing scenes. My mouth was twisted into a scowl and my eyes were sore from squinting. My dad drove with the usual slaps of his hands on the leather steering wheel. My mom was sniffling in the seat next to him like she was still processing what was going on. Like she couldn't believe what her little baby girl had done.

When we pulled into the parking lot of the big white building, my stomach dropped. This was happening. This was real. My mind wasn't playing tricks on me like it does when I drink. The air was too clear, my heartbeat was too real, and I could understand every word and meaning of the song playing softly on the radio. My dad killed the ignition and the car's humming abruptly stopped. My mom sniffed and brushed a loose strand of greasy black hair off her face.

I was expecting my dad to make some sort of joke or snide remark about being here like he would normally do but all that escaped his lips were the words, "Let's go." that came out gruff and scratchy. That was it, only two simple words. I wanted him to make a joke out of it. I needed him to say, "Welcome to rehab, where all your dreams come true!" or maybe, "Come on guys, we don't want to be late getting to the mental hospital." My dad had not made a joke since the incident. I doubt a smile appeared on his face since. And it was my entire fault.

He pulled the door handle of the car door open and the lights overhead blinked on. The car made a strangled "ding ding ding" sound, like it was sad that we were leaving it behind. My dad hopped out and slammed the door behind him. Shortly after, my mom opened her door and clambered out, blowing her nose as she went. She shut the door and the lights dimmed. I took a deep breath and grasped the sticky door handle. I lightly pulled and the door popped open. The lights lit up again and the same "ding ding ding" sound came from the car. "I don't want to leave either." I told the car, like it was listening.

Thank god my parents didn't hear or they'd think I was on more drugs. I slipped out the door and gently shut it. My parents were already walking towards the building, having left me behind. I jogged to keep up with them. I gazed up at the building, a tower was better to describe it. It was painted all white and had red bricks lining each window. Vines grew up one side and I could imagine someone climbing up them to give someone drugs through a window. Wait, never mind, the windows were caged in. As soon as I saw the caged windows, my stomach dropped. Was this a rehab center or a prison ward?

When we got to the revolving door, I went in a compartment alone. My dad and mom went in together, not turning around like they usually did to see if I was alright. Chairs were set up against the left wall and a few were occupied. One kid was as pale as a sheet and had dark rings around his eyes. A man sat next to him, reading the paper and glancing over at him every so often, as if he were making sure he didn't disappear. A skinny girl sat between two adults, a woman and man. They all looked very proper and focused except for the girl who was wearing navy sweats and a tattered grey shirt. Her blonde hair was frizzy and she kept repeating, "Why? Why? Why?" And finally, a twig-like red head sat in the farthest chair from me, in the lotus position with white ear buds in. His head wavered slightly, his large curls bobbling. I was wondering what could be wrong with him when I saw that his hands shook violently when he tried to change the song he was listening to.

While I was observing the people, I hadn't noticed that my parents were standing at the front desk. I slumped over to the tall, wooden desk. A few pens were chained to the counter, like the desk wanted them all to itself. A pudgy lady sat behind the counter. She had on large rectangle glasses that were attached to a chain which was resting on her fat neck. A nameplate sat in front of her. Mrs. Frederick, it read. The first thought that came to my head was, who would want to marry that fat blob? Mrs. Fatblob coughed and sputtered before speaking in a scratchy voice. "Please fill out these papers." she instructed, "You can sit in one of those chairs if you would like." My parents chose to stand.

After they filled out the three page sheet, they handed it back to the lady along with a check that would cover my treatment. "Thank you very much." Mrs. Fatblob droned, taking the paper, "You can say your goodbyes now." She made it sound like they were taking me to my cremation. I looked at my parents. My mom dabbed the corner of her eye with another tissue. "Annabeth," she started, "You know that we love you, but this is for the best." My voice got caught in my throat and my eyes burned with tears. I blinked them away. "Call us whenever you can." my dad demanded, "Or write letters, whatever it takes to keep in touch. I love you Annie Bear." He called me Annie Bear. The last time he had called me that was when I was eight, before Bobby and Matthew were born. "I love you too." I choked out before two hairy guys grabbed me by each arm and hauled me away.

They dragged me up five flights of stairs to a light blue room. The blue was supposed to make me feel calm and happy. But all it did was make me feel like I wasn't at home. There were no light blue rooms in my house. My room was a pretty dark green, with a white trim. That would make me feel calmer. "Ahem," I grunted towards the men that hauled me here, "You don't happen to have a dark green room here, preferably with a white trim?" The buff men looked at each other and burst out laughing. "You get what you get and you don't get upset." the guy on the right laughed. "Stop being a pussy and deal with it." the other guy barked. Those words scarred me. I didn't talk nice to anyone in the center after that. It made me tougher but I didn't feel like thanking the guy at the moment so I stood up and socked him in the stomach. He let out a big "oof" and stumbled backwards. Thank you, seven years of softball. Sadly, it didn't do me much good.

"You just earned yourself room watch, missy." the other man snarled. He mumbled something into his walky-talky and a buff lady appeared at my door a minute later. "Congrats." she snapped, "You're on room watch which means I will constantly check on you and you will have no privacy." I'm not sure if that was exactly what she said, but that is what room watch feels like. For the rest of the afternoon I was forced to sit around in my room because I wasn't allowed to see any other patients. The woman, who preferred to be called Sergeant, peeked in my room every ten minutes to make sure I wasn't cutting myself or banging my head against the wall.

That night, I got four hours of sleep. I tossed and turned, the night that got me sent here kept playing in my head. The clinks of bottles, the smoke from cigarettes, the humid feel from the hot tub. The flashing lights, the running, the black. I tried to push the memory out of my head, I wanted to flush it down the toilet or bury it deep inside the Earth, and then maybe build a house on top of it. My eyes were burning with exhaustion and eventually, sleep took over me.

I woke up to Sergeant hollering out the hall, "Time for breakfast, morons!" I rolled out of bed and made and attempt to flatten my curls. It failed. I slipped on my red Toms and stepped into the hall. I was about to follow everyone to the cafeteria, but Sergeant grabbed me by the arm, shoved a folder of papers at me, and flung me at the buff guy I punched last night. Great, just great. He took me roughly by the shoulders and pushed me to the cafeteria, not saying anything the whole trip. He shoved me into the cafeteria and spat, "Good luck, you'll need it." I followed some teens to a line where I picked out a slice of pizza and a carton of milk. I stood in front of the room; there were so many tables but nowhere to sit. "Nowhere to sit?" a feminine voice squeaked behind me. I turned to see the same blonde girl in the lobby. Her hair had tan highlights and stuck up everywhere. She was wearing the same ratty quarter sleeve shirt from the day before and the same sweat pants, too. I didn't judge because I was also wearing my clothes from yesterday. I nodded.

"I have nowhere to sit either." she continued, "Wanna sit with me?" I shrugged and we found and empty table. I bit of the tip of my pizza and chewed. The bread was stale and the cheese was a little soggy, but I was hungry. The girl played with her mashed potatoes. "I'm Silena." she stated, "What's your name?" I figured that I couldn't hide anything so I answered her, "Annabeth." I replied, "Annabeth Chase." Silena smiled, "That's cool." she squeaked, "So what are you here for?" Now she was going over the line. My mouth formed a tight line and my eyes dropped to the floor. "Too personal?" she guessed, "Okay, then maybe later, anyway, I here because I'm anorexic. My parents' want me 'fixed' but I don't know if that'll ever happen." I wanted to comfort her, to tell her that everything was going to be okay. But before I could do anything, a large backlit figure stood over us.

"You bitches are at my table." it grumbled. Silena shot out of her chair and snatched up her tray. "T-That's just fine!" she squealed, "We were just leaving, weren't we?" But I wasn't just about to leave. I wasn't going to take any shit from anyone else. "No." I confirmed, "We're staying right here. I'm not moving. Get another table, faggot." The figure leaned onto our table with a smile. A real smile, not a smirk. "I like you." he stated. I could see his face now; he had shaggy black hair and mesmerizing green eyes. His features were broad and he radiated confidence. "What?" I asked, confused. I just called him a faggot and he said he liked me? He laughed, "I was just joking." he insisted, "Hi, Percy Jackson, coke addict, how are you?"

I sat, stunned, was this guy for real? "Wait a second." Silena squeaked, "Isn't coke like, a soda? That isn't a rehab-worthy addiction, is it?" Percy let out a laugh that sounded like bells. "Coke," he explained, "Is the short term for cocaine." He had slid into the chair next to me by this point and a tray of pizza sat in front of him. "But," he continued, "I really do like coca-cola." Silena let out a nervous laugh as she sat back down, unsure. "It's okay," Percy told her, "I'm not gonna hurt you. I don't bite." Silena still looked uneasy. "Anyways, what are your guy's deals, names, been in any incidents yet?" he inquired. I shifted in my hard plastic chair. I wasn't about to tell anyone about me anytime soon. Luckily, Silena was brave enough to mention it for me. "I'm Silena and I'm anorexic." she stated, "I haven' been in any incidents so far but I've witnessed people getting punched and slapped."

"And what about curls over here?" he gestured to me. "Oh," Silena gasped, "That's Annabeth Chase. She doesn't want to talk about anything. And for incidents, I honestly don't know. Annabeth, any incidents?" I took a deep breath and breathed, "I punched a counselor last night in the stomach. He was asking for it, though, he called me a pussy." Percy grinned and slapped me on the back. "Nice!" he hooted. A man with dreadlocks and sunglasses on came up to us and instructed, "No physical contact or no free time for a week." Percy held his hands up in surrender. Once the guy was gone he whispered, "They threaten, but never do, unless you're really bad." I was about to ask what the definition of really bad was, but the curly haired ginger from the lobby walked up to us along with an emo girl.

"Hey Perce," the boy chattered, "Who are the newbies?" Then the two sat down opposite of me and Silena. "This is Silena," Percy introduced, "she's anorexic. And this is Annabeth; she won't tell us what her problem is." Emo girl rolled her eyes like I was a spoiled brat, what was her deal? "Annabeth and Silena," Percy announced, "This is Grover the meth addict and Thalia the alcoholic and any-drug-she-can-get-her-hands-on addict. Feel free to socialize." He leaned back in his chair acting as if he just solved world peace. "You know," Thalia growled, "In group you're going to have to say what your problem is." I was confused, what was group? Grover answered for me, "Group is when you sit in a circle and a counselor asks you questions and everyone talks about their problems." Well, that sounded fun. Note: That was sarcasm.

"Hey," Percy spoke up, "What group are you guys in? It should be in your folder." I picked up the green folder that Sergeant gave me. I gingerly opened it and filed through the papers. "It says that," I started, "I'm in group E." Both of the boys smiled. "Awesome!" Percy cheered, "You're in a group with me, Grover, and Thalia!" Silena spoke up, "Hey, I'm in group E, too!" Thalia continued to look un-amused. "That means that we have our five!" Grover cheered, "I was wondering who was going to replace Gordon and Sabrina."

A loud bell rang throughout the cafeteria. "Shit." Thalia complained, "Group time." I was also not looking forward to group. I am like a clam. The good stuff is inside but if you really want it, you have to pry it or smash it open, and in the end, your hands are going to be beat up.

A/N: Liking the new series? Not liking it? Ideas, suggestions, comments? I will take anything I can get here. So, review, rate, follow, and favorite!