Twisties

Chapter 17

He stared a few seconds before letting it go. "Go on and get some air. Been sleeping all day."

I nodded before waving goodbye and leaving the house. Before I knew it, I was on the bus. I wasn't sure where I was going but fuck it. It was better than being home. I rested my head against the cold, glass window. The world outside passed by in a blur. Crazy how it never stopped when shitty things happened. I felt like my life was on a standstill, with me being confused and without the motivation to do anything. It just sucked that things kept going, even when I didn't have the energy to keep up.

I shook my head, scoffing inwardly. What the hell did I know? It wasn't until I got a text that I realized I had been on the bus for a whole hour. I looked at it briefly. 'Can we please talk?' I shut off my phone, not in the mood for Les' company. Instead, I got off the bus and started walking. I walked to wherever my feet wanted to, and I had no idea where they were going, but when I got there, I found myself laughing.

My fucking heart brought me to a freaking rehab center. Specifically, the one where my mother is staying. In all the years my mother has been in rehab, I'd never visited her. I did get close one time when I was 12. I'd biked all the way there, in helmet and knee pads galore, because I was missing her. None of the kids wanted to be my friend, instead calling me names like "crack baby".

I was mad at my mom for not being there for us and that she couldn't do her job. Instead, she let us be taken away. Chose drugs over us. I felt abandoned. So I was ready to walk in there and tell her like it is, but I was stopped by the receptionist who said I needed a guardian to be present with me during visitations. I had come all that way, had tired my little legs out peddling like mad, just to be turned away. I threw a fit. I cried and screamed my lungs out. Eventually, they were able to get a hold of Grandpa, who flew down there. Once I saw him, I ran to his arms and cried even harder. He didn't say a word, just picked me up and left. I hadn't been back since then.

I was told that Southern Gardens Recovery Center was a fancy place. Grandpa once said that they had a pool and really good food. And because of how good my mother was doing apparently, she had gotten a nice room. She had her own bathroom, a mini-fridge, and a tv.

I went in and walked up to the reception desk. "Hello, how may I help you?" The receptionist had a professional smile.

"I'm here to see Darlene Wynne." She started typing something on the computer, but then she frowned.

"We don't have it here that Darlene has any visitors today. Did you schedule a visitation?"

"Well no, but I was around, and I thought I would come to see her. I haven't for a while," I added nervously.

The receptionist nodded before sighing. "Well since Darlene has been doing well for a very long time, an unexpected visit probably won't do any harm," she said smiling brightly. "Just verify that you're at least 17 and fill out the paperwork." She gave me a clipboard and I went over to the waiting area. Once I was finished, I brought the clipboard back and along with my ID. After double checking things, she stood up and came from behind the desk.

"Alright, let me bring you to her." The receptionist swiped her card at a door, and we were let into a hallway. As we walked, she started pointing out the areas to me. "Down this way is the cafeteria. On the second floor, we have group therapy and arts and crafts and..." I was only half listening considering my stomach decided to act up out of nowhere.

We arrived at a door and on it was a wooden carving that said "Darlene". "She actually made this a few months ago. Darlene is quite creative, but her true calling is her painting," said the receptionist.

Yeah, I already knew this, but I nodded anyway and pretended to care. She knocked on the door. "Darlene, you have a visitor. I'm coming in."

She opened the door and I followed her inside. The room was spacious, with lots of light coming from the windows. Very cheery.