disorder :: grayson dolan

one

When the clock struck three, sighs were released from the mouths of a few people in the rehabilitation center. Two people in particular because they had group therapy, which made their lives hell.

It wasn't the people in it or the two counselors running it, it was the act of being forced into a room with people ranging from ages 15-25 to talk about how things are doing and why they're in the center. It was ordered participation for some.

For Lili and Grayson, that was the case.

The two were not friends, not in the slightest. In fact, the largest interaction they'd had was Grayson opening the door for her as they walked into the room on occasion. They saw each other a lot, group therapy was held every other day, but neither of them spoke to anyone, let alone one another.

Lili didn't understand why she had to go to this stupid group therapy, it only made her feel sick to her stomach and weak at the knees. Although never being forced to speak, attention was still brought on her occasionally and her anxiety ran wild to figure out exactly which moment it would happen. Exactly which moment she'd need to fight extra hard for her air. And exactly which moment she'd need to have preloaded responses for in her head.

Anxiety was a bitch, but that wasn't even why she was here exactly. She would've never brought herself here, but she was a minor and her parents insisted they were only worried.

Lili called bullshit on that.

If they were worried, they would've visited her more often. She knew it was a bit far, but they didn't even call or FaceTime more than once every week or two. On occasion they'd drop in, when they had a weekend they were up to it, but the most she normally got was a text asking how things were going.

She was lucky enough to have internet privileges. Many people were not allowed. Those who were couldn't be online all the time, but they were at least able to text and call friends and family whenever they wanted.

The girl ran her fingers through her dark brown, curly locks and shook her head as she left her room. The room made her insides churn every time she was inside of it, but at least it was hers and she didn't need to share it with anybody else. They do have joint rooms, but due to her anxiety they gave her a smaller one to herself.

The boring beige walls were ridiculous to stare at, along with the beige curtains aligning her window, and, you guessed it, the beige carpeting on her floor. How was anyone's mental health supposed to improve around that?

She had tried to decorate it somehow, but nothing worked very well and she didn't have anything to hang on her walls yet.

Turning a corner, she bumped into a brown haired boy whilst staring at the floor to avoid eye contact, and fell.

"S-sorry," Lilibeth mumbled, scrambling to her feet before rushing away.

The boy didn't fall, so she knew he wasn't hurt. She had actually hurt her ankle a bit but was too preoccupied running scenarios through her head and wondering how stupid and weird the boy must think she is to have run away.

Grayson just tilted his head and watched the girl rush away with his lips in a tight line, heading to the meeting before he was late. He recognized her shy ways when she ran into him, and when he sat down across from her in the circle.

He had his arms across his chest, frown adorning his face as he wondered if he did something to upset the girl.

She sat across, refusing to make eye contact as she nervously dug her thumbnail into her palm and waited for the meeting to start so it could be over sooner.

"Afternoon everyone," Misty greeted. She usually ran the meetings alongside her boyfriend Alan. They used to volunteer years earlier but really liked working with everyone, so they went to school for counseling and other things and came back to the place it all started. "How're you all feeling?"