Temporary home (23)

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"Walker Monroe. Checking in." I say to the receptionist. She looks over her large glasses at me. Critiquing me.
"Sir, we've been waiting for you. Dr. Kirk will be down in a few moments. Please have a seat in the mean time." She says to me. Motioning over to a sitting area where others are sitting. I frown slightly, not liking to see other people who are dealing with demons as well. It is just making everything more real.
"Thank you." I mumble. Walking over to the corner of the room, where nobody is sitting. Wanting to enjoy my last couple of minutes of peace.
My eyes glance over the room. Stopping at a family that are sitting on the other side of the room. The father has his arm wrapped around his wife. Who's smiling lovingly at him, a soft and caring smile on her face. Their kids play in front of them, without a care in the world. The older one has her hair up in pink tails, and she has a gap between her two front teeth. The perfect family. Why are they here? Well, nothing is as perfect as it appears. I see the darkness in his eyes, the lines of worry carved into his face. He's seen what happens over there. He has experienced what most fears. Yet, he's living a normal life. He's doing the impossible and I applaud him for doing so.
"Mr. Monroe." A doctor says. Entering through a glass door that's placed in the middle of the long hallway. I stand up, grabbing onto my sore leg. I walk over and smile tightly. A man behind him takes my bags. "Thank you for picking killinstone rehabilitation center. This is the first step of your recovery. Do you have any family to say goodbye to?" The young doctor asks. Pushing up her stylish glasses.
"No. It's just me." I say to her. Finding that fact slightly depressing.
"Great. Let's get you settled in. Tomorrow is group therapy, you'll have the rest of today to get used to your surroundings and rest." She tells me. Leading me into the same hallways that she came through. She presses the button of the elevator and steps into it when it beeps open. Both I and the orderly step in after her just before the heavy metal doors close. She presses the third floor, and the elevator shakes before moving upwards. "I'm sure that you know what our mission is at this facility, but it never hurts to refresh. Here, our focus is to help soldiers become reintroduced with normal life and fight any other mental illnesses. I've read that you served as an American soldier, then switched to the marines after two years in basic combat. Is this correct?" She asks me. Looking over a folder.
"Yes." I answer shortly. Looking at the folder with narrowed eyes.
"Your first therapy session is slightly before group therapy. So we know where you are at mentally." She alerts me. Stepping out of the small elevator when it stops at the floor.
She leads me down a narrow hallway, turning right at the end of the hallway. She takes a key out of her pocket and opens the door. Swinging it to open a single room. The orderly steps in first and deposits my bags into the bed before opening them. Sorting through the contents. He removes the pair of shoes that I've packed, removing the shoe laces. He also removes belts, and the strings in any of my sweats or hoodies. He puts everything into a large plastic bag with my name on it.
"Just safety precautions." He answers my unspoken question. I nod my head in understanding.
"Wake up call is at 6, breakfast is at 7. Somebody will be up to escort you to the dining hall." The doctor says. I look at her name tag seeing as she hasn't introduced herself. Dr. Hailey.
"Thank you." I say with a tight smile. Watching as they exit the room, it locks automatically behind them. I let out a sigh, looking around my new home for the next few weeks. There are few decorations. No vases, or paintings hung. Nothing that could be used to self harm. The bed frame is made out of a light colored wood, the sheets a soft blue. Overall, it's not bad, just a tad small. I start to out everything away. Trying not to think back to all of the memories and people I've left back in Denver.

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