"Sophie, would you like to talk a little about how you're feeling?"
Nothing. Sophie had always been talkative. She'd always been social, and clever, and brilliant in front of others. Somehow, when asked about her feelings, how her addiction had affected herself and those around her, she was at a loss for words.
It wasn't as if she couldn't think of anything to say. She'd been reckless and she liked it. She'd spent her whole life being the girl everyone in the world expected her to be.
Beautiful. Charming. The "Miracle Child" of Buckingham Nicks.
It felt good to be something other than what she was supposed to be.
"No. I don't think so," she said, almost inaudibly, sinking into her sweatshirt, and casting her gaze down to the loose threads on her sleeves. She could feel everyone's eyes on her. It felt like the most miserable thing in the world. She'd tried to get away from the watchful eyes of everyone who expected something from her, but she'd crashed and now, she was here, under the watchful eye of seven other kids and their parents.
She knew what they were all thinking. Like mother, like daughter. That was where she royally messed everything up. She was just like her mother in so many ways, but this...she'd never wanted to take herself down this path. She really didn't want to take her family down this path! She couldn't help feeling that she would forever be the stain on the family.
Sophie couldn't even look at her mother through the whole meeting. She knew that she'd be ashamed, and heartbroken, and she couldn't look her in the eyes and acknowledge that she'd really hurt her. And her father. She was, through everything, their little girl. She'd just thrown away every good memory of her life.
They would have to look back on her life to this point and see tarnished memories. Sophie won the second grade spelling bee! Oh no wait, the little girl who won that spelling bee almost died because of Cocaine. A drug she'd only ever learned bad things about.
Her eyes darted quickly all around the circle at every face (except for her parents). The parents all seemed saddened by her inability to speak, whereas the kids seemed relieved that they could skip out on a family meeting early if she didn't want to talk. All but one, whose gaze was fastened on her, waiting, but not probing for her to say anything.
"No," she said again, looking up into those inviting eyes.
The room stayed silent for one more moment, and she looked away. "Alright, well that's okay. Not everyone has to talk. And Sophie, everyone here knows this is only your first week, so there's absolutely no pressure. Things will come to you as you're here longer. Justin, its your first week as well. Anything you want to talk about?"
The boy with the inviting eyes shook his head, sneaking another glance at Sophie. "No, I think I'm okay for this week." It was understood that first week clients weren't really expected to talk. They were still going through withdrawals, still in shock, still bitter. However, there was something in the way Justin passed up the chance to talk that made Sophie feel like it was out of courtesy to her. Like he was giving up his turn in an effort to show solidarity.
"Alright, now returning families, you can have the afternoon with your kids. just make sure you have them back here by five o'clock.
It was do or die at that point. Sophie would have to truly face her parents, and talk to them. She was a first week client, so she wasn't allowed the leave the treatment center, but her parents were welcome to stay.
They were the last to stand when the other families had gone out. Justin and his parents were already down in his room. Sophie could feel her heart racing, and really truly felt the weight of her mistakes.
Her parents were being so understanding, waiting for her to come to them, instead of the other way around. And she wanted so badly to go to them. Some part of her couldn't, though. Some part of her was embarrassed and ashamed, and just wanted to disappear forever.
In one moment of broken concentration and restraint, she turned and threw her arms around her mother, sobbing into her hair. She wasn't ready to apologize, because she couldn't quite apologize to herself, yet. She wanted her family, though. Family was the reason she'd checked in in the first place.
Lindsey watched as Sophie cried, clutching her mother desperately. He knew it was taking everything in Stevie not to break down.
"Its okay, Soph. Just let it all out, baby." Stevie spoke gently, stroking her daughter's never-ending stream of blonde hair. 'Dammit, why do they have to be so understanding,' Sophie thought to herself. It would just be better if they yelled at her and told her to get over herself. They never would, though. They didn't even have the capacity to feel that way.
Sophie felt so hopeless, sick, and disappointed in herself. She didn't want to put them through this. Especially not week after one week of treatment. She backed away from Stevie slightly.
"Uhm...I'm gonna take a nap," she whispered, standing up. She quickly wiped at her tears, giving them the best smile she could. She didn't want to see them too disappointed. "Oh, alright, are you sure?" She could hear the sadness in her mother's voice. She didn't want to let her go, again. But Sophie nodded. She didn't so much as say goodbye before walking back downstairs, and breaking down in her room, riddled with guilt.
