No Where Else To Go
Finn
The suns up. My eyes hurt, it's like, almost like I'm a vampire. Except instead of craving blood, I live for drugs. They ask me to remove my sunglasses from my pale face (see, I even have the pale face). They, as in the people who wear the blue uniforms, who sit behind the desks, the people who pretend to help us and act like they give a shit about us. I obey of course, because my mother is behind me with Burt. Now the people are starring. Starring at my blood shot eyes, the bags under my dilated pupils. The girl with the ponytail stares at my mouth. The mouth that keeps smacking against my lips because my mouth is dry. After moving her gaze from my mouth she sighs and writes down the drug I'm on, or coming down from. Her perfect hand writing writes 'Amphetamine' on the line.
Quinn
The yard has dog waste all over the place. I'm not even been inside and I'm already stressed. When was the last time they cleaned this dump? Did I forget to pack my hand santizer? Good, I spot it when the lady dressed in the blue is digging through my belongings. She takes the bottle and places it with my other cleaning supplies I have packed. The lady pulls out a trash can from under the desk and- Oh mo god! She just threw away my things! Mine! My personal belongings! Then I ask her if her mother has ever taught her manners. The person who is suppose to help me laughs in my face and now everyone is staring at me! Everyone. Then she fiddles with my bags zippers and reveals a perscription bottle with my name printed on it. She takes it out and examines them before trashing my medication. Then I see her write perscrption drugs on the paper before her.
Artie
My palms are sweaty, but that might just be because of my gloves. My father wheels me in the front door. The air condition hits my skin and I think I just entered what is suppose to be hell. Yup it's hell for sure because everyone in the freaken building stops to stare at me when they hear my wheel chair squeak. I gulp down my breakfast that I feel coming up. My fingernails begin to scratch my face because of the attention I'm getting. Or maybe it's the effects from the drugs. But I can't still be high? Can I? No, no it's just the nervousness. But I feel my withdrawl, I feel the headache in my head, I feel the stomach ache and I am pretty sure I feel my legs sweating. The supposbedly nice workers get out from the little desk offices and start looking over me. They are looking at my cracked glasses, my torn gloves, my nerdy vest and most of all they can tell what I'm on. The women with the blue pants walks to her desk, and even though I can't see over the desk I can tell she's writing 'Methamphetamine'.
Rachel
The green boogers run down my nose and I sniff it back up. Why is my nose so runny? I've never had a runny nose since... forever. Or I was just too high to notice or too drunk to notice? My father's stare is what I feel the most. I can't see him well, but I sure do feel his stare. I feel like I'm naked under a microscope and he's pointing out all my flaws. No. No, this can't be. They can't be doing that, they're my fathers. But they can also not be. I have two gay fathers for crying outloud! I was adopted, I know this, I'm not stupid. Okay, Rachel breathe your parnoid right now. My parents call my name and I realize I'm being waited on. I see the lady who works at this place. The place where I am suppose to get better, in my father's words not mine. I take off my loose jacket that's twice my size. She examines me and looks at my eyes to see any clues to what my drug of choice is. I feel the warm liquid running down my nose again so I sniff it back up. The employee stops in her tracks and looks at my face. All she says is 'cocaine' and I can hear my fathers nodd behind me. She returns to the desk and scribbles down something.
Santana
The day is beautiful. The sun it great. The wind is fresh. The gas price is low today. The day is great-except it's not. The day is not beautiful. The sun is too bright. The wind smells like shit. The gas is always expensive. And me? Well I fell like shit. My head hurts, I'm tired out of my brains, this fat ass lady keeps looking at me like I'm some sort of pig in a county fair, being judged. Not to mention I smell as if a skunk peed all over me. And I think 'chubs' smells me too because I watch her write majuajnna on a piece of paper. Then the she-devil asks me to undo my jacket. I tell the lady that I'm not wearing anything under. Mr. Woman then gives me a sympathetic look before telling me she doesn't give a fuck. It's a good thing it's really early in the morning because no one is in the lobby, place. I unzip my jacket and it pools at the bottom of my feet. 'Chubs' then starts to look at my arms then she writes Heroin next to pot.
Puck
Fuck this place. Fuck that dog laying on the grass. Fuck that plastic flamingo in the grass. Fuck you. Fuck this lady who's looking at me. Fuck the pen that is writing Acohol on that fucking paper. Fuck these bright lights. Fuck that fish in that fish tank...fuck that fish tank too. Fuckity fuck fuck.
Quinn
Why is she looking at me like this? In this state of being? Oh god! I didn't shower this morning! God dammit! Wait! This floor has not been cleaned! When wa- Why is she touching me when I am naked! God I pray to you right now, get me out of here!
Finn
I think I am about to die in this place. That thing that's suppose to be a lady is examing me... naked! Butt naked! Oh god. I think I might puke. She's starting to touch me now. I need something, anything. I will do anything at this point to get me out of this building. I start to make a run for it. I feel the cool air agianst my hot skin as I run into the hall way. I only make it to the yard where I fall and land in dog shit!
Rachel
I think I might have just seen a ghost. Or a really really pale guy run out the door butt naked. I'm just glad I'm not on whatever he's on. Must me heroine. Must be. I do not want to be in a place with junkies. I am not a junkie! Will never be a junkie! Never! God! only a junkie says that.
Puck
…...Fuck. This. Place. If I am going to die I rather be high then in this place. I really need a cigarette. I can have a cigarette? The brosure said cigarette's allowed. Please tell me I can smoke a fucking cigarette. Fuck. My. Life.
Artie
The woman in blue is giving me that look. That look 'oh your that kind of druggie.' I can feel her eyes on my back. She's probably thinks I'm ridiclouse with my vests and nerdy glasses. I'm going to get beat up by someone, yes. I regret coming here, I could still be in my little box room with my drugs and vests.
Santana
That she-devil is gay, lesbian. I just know it. I could feel her eyes on my boobs. She licked her lips when she went down there to check me. I wonder if I were to do a favor for her if she would let me out of here?
Rachel
Well you know what they say, when you're high there's now where else to go but down.
Decided to start a new story. So the main couple is puckleberry and maybe Fuinn or somthing leave it in a review :D If you like the story then I would like to know so I can write more.