a/n: Okay, so another short chapter. I hope you enjoy it, though. Chapter three is longer, though. I pre-wrote it.
Disclaimer: So not Veronica Roth.
Chapter Two:
Four:
Group is in a large, sunny room off the lobby. A middle-aded woman named Tori leads it. We all gather around in "the Circle of Support", and introduce ourselves, probably for my sake. Name, age, why we wound up here, room number, and how we're doing today.
"I'll start," Tori informs us. "I'm Tori, I'm forty-two, I'm here to help y'all, I'm in room number twelve, and I'k good."
IV girl goes next. "I'm Christina Lovett. I'm sixteen. I'm here because I'm what's called a diabulemic; I was using my insulin to keep my blood sugars at just high enough a level to where I'd lose weight, but low enough that I wouldn't have to go to the hospital. It didn't work, though. I'm in room three. I'm okay, I guess."
Jacket Boy goes next. He speaks in a no-nonsense, fa way. "William Curtis, although I prefer W. I'm sixteen, a junior in high school. I have self-harmful tendancies. I'm in room number five. I am doing well, thank you."
Feeding Tube girl is next up. She speaks quietly, but every word resinates in the tiny room. "Tris. Sixteen. Anorexia Mervosa. Room six. Fine." I study her, and decide that she's smoke; barely there.
"I'm Zeke" Football brother one begins, "and I'm Uriah." says the other one. "Zeke's seventeen, and Uriah's sixteen." They finish each other's sentences, probably without meaning to. "We're here because, well, we were addicted to alcohol. We both got severe alcohol poisoning at a party, and were sent here. Zeke's in room seven, and Uriah's in room eight." I silently wonder if I'll be able to tell them apart.
Wheelchair girl is next. "Um, I'm Shauna. I'm sevenseen. I have suicidal tendancies. I'm in room two. I'm okay."
Earbuds girl, now without her earbuds, goes next. "Hey! I'm Marlene Bukannen. I'm sixteen, I'm in room nine, I'm here because I have severe OCD. And I'm good."
The final members to speak are Kickasss and me. I learn that Kickass is Lynn, she's sixteen, in room one, and is a druggie.
I really don't need this. I'm not a mental case like those kids. There's nothing wrong with me; I'm one hundred percent normal.
"Four, your turn." Tori prods gently.
"Four." I say sternly; I do not ever want to associate with these people. "Seventeen. Not sure. Four, ironically. Fine."
Then the whole place goes silent. Nobody is talking. It's as if there's an elephant in the room.
Damn this. This is shit, and I hate it! This is a dream; a bad dream. Sure, I didn't have a good childhood, and sure, I was abused, but I didn't think that would add up to this! Locked in a mental hospital the a bunch of mental case kids!
Tris puts her finger and thumb into a circle around her wrist, pushing up until it breaks. Marlene is tapping her feet in eights. Will is picking at a scar on his arm. Christina is braiding a strand of her hair. Lynn is glaring, per usual. Zeke and Uriah are communicating in morce code. I don't know if they know that I know what their saying, but I do. They're planning a prank on Lynn and Marlene.
Other than that, no one's talking. Tori sits back in her seat, crossing her arms. I lean my chin onto my hand, propping my elbow up onto my knee. I sense Tris staring, and give her a sharp look. She doesn't wilt, like the other girls do, she glares back at me. And this girl can glare.
"Alright." Tori says, tapping her fingers against the armrest of her chair. "What do you guys remember about coming here?"
"The ambulance drove me," Christina says, flicking her IV with her other hand. "I was in the hospital forever. They couldn't get it down because I binged. On chocolate, and stuff. Kept my sugars up. Like, really, really, high so they couldn't bring them back down. That's why I have the IV; it's so they don't have to worry about me taking my insulin."
"Yeah." Tris says, mimicking my possition. "Same with my feeding tube."
"And whq do you remember, Tris?" Tori asks, tucking her fet under her.
"Being told by the school nurse I was going in for a psych exam." Tris says, flicking her tube back behind her ear. "I weighed sixty-two pounds. I weigh seventy-three, now."
"I weigh two hundred." I tell her, examining her arms. They're lean, every muscle defined. "Besides, most of that weight's probably your muscle. Muscle is heavier than fat, am I right?"
Tris pinches at her non-existent stomach and shrugs. She doesn't meet my eyes, but that's okay. I don't need her to. Because I understand.
a/n: okay, so I hope you enjoy. Shout outs to Guess Who, Tlcoopi7, and Athleticbooknerd. Today's question, who do you think is the first gang member to speak to Four? Shout outs if you get it right. I'll see you next Thursday! Adios amigos!
Bianca.