A Pretty Little Pregnancy

Hazy Daze

*Spencer's POV*

When the people from the rehab center came to check me out of the hospital and transport me to the rehab center, I was in a haze. Not from drugs. I had been drug and alcohol free for two days. I was already on withdrawals, and it was just sinking in that I killed my baby. My baby was dead because of me. 

They had let me hold the baby, after I delivered it. I didn't remember the delivery. I was still high when it happened. Toby hadn't been there. The nurse told me he had left  after he talked to me last. He hadn't come back. 

My life was spiraling and there was nothing I could do about it. I was sinking into a hole. The girls were right. I was a mess. It had gone past just getting high this time. In the past, it had just been a little something to take the edge off. Now, it had been something to forget. To turn into a different person so I didn't have to deal with Spencer Hastings' problems. I didn't want to be me. 

I didn't want to be the girl who couldn't keep her head clear. The girl who couldn't resist a bottle of alcohol. I didn't want to be the girl who killed her own baby. I didnt' want to be the girl who had a miscarriage after a month and a half. But I also didn't want to be the girl who cheated on her boyfriend. The girl who had to raise a baby that was proof of her unfaithfulness. I just wanted to back to that night at the bar and convince myself to never get drunk. To never set down the glass and allow some filthy stranger to drug it. I couldn't remember a thing about that night. But I guess that's the point of those drugs. If I had just been drunk, it would have come back to me in bits and pieces over the last month. But I couldn't remember a thing. 

I barely registered the drive to the rehab center. I barely registered being escorted to my room.   They didn't make me change clothes. They let me keep what I was wearing. It was more like a boarding home than a rehab center. But I guess that's what I needed. I didn't need another Radley Sanitarium. I didn't need that shit. 

"How long am I going to be here?" I asked the nurse as she was leaving. 

"Only seven weeks if you're lucky. If you keep your hands off secret stashes," she said. 

"There's secret stashes here?" I asked. 

"Some of the more juvenile residents snuck it in. We don't take it away, but we extend their stay. We do drug testing every three days. So we will catch you if you do drugs. Stay clean if you're smart. I know you've had a rough month. Been reading your file. If you deal with it in the right way, you'll be out of here in no time. But if you try to escape your problems instead of confronting them, you'll be here indeinitely," the nurse said, leaving, closing and locking the door from the outside. 

So there would be no free roaming. No exploring. Just sitting here, with my head clear, to process my thoughts. I guess that was the point. The more thoughts I processed, the less I would need the drugs to escape my problems. So face my problems I would. Starting with saying them out loud. 

"I killed my baby. I cheated on Toby. I went to a bar, underage, and got drunk. I've done drugs so many times, I can't count. I was a total bitch to all my friends. I'm a total bitch period. I deserve this. I'm a bitch. I'm a bitch. I'm a bitch."