Save Me [A Norman Reedus fanfiction - Part 1 - COMPLETED]

Chapter One - Time Has Come

Saturday. The last day of rehab. After more than six months of rehabilitation, I felt like I just don't want to leave that place. Not because it was a fancy and luxurious institute, but because I'd gotten used to the everyday schedule, which was clearly a joke.

7 AM - waking up. I usually didn't even sleep a goddamned minute during the night. Sitting on the side of my always locked window, reading some Stephen King or just doing nothing... Mostly, the last one.

7.30 AM - breakfast. Ice-cold and green scrambled eggs with ham in the size of a baby's palm and some bread from yesterday. And all tasted like shit in my mouth. I should realized that it was all because of the medication I should took. Another menu for breakfast: two green pills to ease the nausea, one white round pill to kill my headache and two small yellow pills to normalize my blood preassure. And I was at a drug rehab... Ridiclious.

8 AM to 10 AM - morning chill. Usually I was in the tv room and watched some crap on the tv. Or just looked out of my head. Or... Just thought about how the hell I had ended up in that hell which they called "a place to help you find peace and health". What a crap!

10.30 AM to 12 AM - group therapy with Dr. Salomon Pechman. Old shrink in ugly flanel shirt and cord trousers aaaand... BOWTIE! Every fucking morning he could show up in a brand new, ugly fucking bowtie! If somebody, he surely needed some therapy... But group therapy was mostly about how we, the patients felt in that moment. My usual answer was: "I'm fine. Nice tie." I said nothing more, ever. He might was pissed but never showed me, just moved on to somebody else.

1 PM to 2.30 PM - therapy with Dr. Jenn "Almighty" Krause. The one and only person in that rathole who actually had a brain and sense for human beings. She always scolded me because I didn't take part in group therapy but was proud of me because I at least opened up to her. Even if I wasn't polite then at all.

'Reira, you need to speak up during group therapy. It's important to be able to speak about your feelings to the others!' She said almost every meeting.

'I do so. Like now, I am right fucking here and trying to explain you why I will never speak up during that fucking group thing!'

'Oh, and why?'

'Cuz that's fucking waste of my fucking time! That's why, Jenn.'

2.30 PM to 3 PM - lunch. Various shits. Don't even deserve a mention. I didn't eat, anyway. When I got in the institute I was at least 6 kilos heavier. It didn't sound much but for someone who was only 52 kilos at the start, it was a lot.

3 PM to 5 PM - outside. There was a huge, flat green ground place with nice benches and tables with chairs. It could have reminded me to a nice park somewhere if it wouldn't have gotten 3 meters high, concrete walls around. So it mostly reminded me to a prison. If the weather was shitty I usually stood in front of the tv. Others usually went to the art room and doodled or painted, I just felt sick of do so.

7 PM - dinner. The food always made me think they want me starve to death, but there was the other menu: one little round pill to swing me into sleep. I always refused to take that pill. In the first two weeks it always ended up in fights with the nurses but after that I got an allowance to refuse sleepy pills if I wish to. And how the hell I wouldn't wish to?

8 PM - lights off.

Pretty easy and monotonous schedule, but the part I've been waiting for all the time was the time of visitors. Usually, I had three visitors during a week but the one I was waiting for all the time only hadn't showed up for a while. But on the day of my release, he was supposed to come. And that day, I was about to walk out of the gates with him.