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When he awoke, the splitting headache Chris had made everything else seem dull and un-important. Over and over he would ask where he was, and why it hurt...the pain.....the pain was just...there...relentless...over and over....leaving for moments, and returning for days. Marrissa came by everyday and would bring Trish a lot of the time. Chris' little girl, besides himself, was suffering the most.

"Daddy?" she asked. Yes, he would reply.

"Why aren't you home? Why are you here?"

"Where is here?" he would ask with a smile, though he was being honest...he didn't know where here was. He didn't know where he was at all...all he knew was every hour...when the blonde haired nurse walked in with a needle...his skin would cringe...and once it was administered...he'd feel at peace/...like an addiction being relinquished.

Chris had always hated that he got himself into these addictions. He knew somewhat why he was here, for the things that Marrissa said to him made it clear....but he still didn't want to be her. He still felt like...he didn't necessarily need to be. More and more everyday he would become angered...more and more everyday..he just wanted to be home. He missed his family...he missed himself...and he missed being free....he missed not being in a rehab..but this was his story.