Abigail

Madilyn

"Madi! Wake up, they're doing room checks!"

I groan and smack the intrusive hand away.

"Madi! Seriously, come on!"

Room checks?

I open my eyes. A girl is standing over me, eyes wide.

Finally, the memories start to flood into me. Madilyn Holly Monroe is...in a rehab center?

I sit up and look down. My wrists are tightly wrapped in gauze.

"Madi, they're right next door, come on!"

I quickly stand, pulling my curly red hair back and hastily braiding it. I'll have to ask for a hair tie after the room checks.

A heavyset woman wearing bright pink scrubs and too much makeup suddenly appears in the doorway. "Girls, we sounded the bell fifteen minutes ago! Out in the hall, now! Come on!"

Gracie and I shuffle past the nurse and into the hallway. Nurse Lynne and an attendant dive into our room, rifling through drawers and digging under mattresses. Lynne comes back out with sad eyes aimed at Gracie. "Gracious, again? How many times do we have to go through this?" In the nurse's hand lies a small iPod shuffle, wrapped tightly with earbuds. "Honestly, it's like you have a sixth sense for the thing."

A tear rolls down Gracie's face. "Please! It helps me!"

Lynne shakes her head. "Not without Dr. Garrett's permission, Gracious."

"Don't call me that!" Gracie exclaims. "It's Gracie!"

The nurse just shakes her head and walks away, tucking the iPod into her pocket. The attendant soon follows after one last toss of my covers. Gracie and I look at each other for a moment, silent, then go back into our room.

"Breakfast in ten, girls!" Lynne's voice echoes down the hall and bounces into our ears. Gracie flinches, more tears slipping over her cheeks. I cross the room and hug her gently, letting her cry into my shoulder.

Madi attempted to take her own life two weeks ago. Her parents came home unexpectedly early, and found their daughter leaking blood on the new marble bathroom tiles. They approached the situation the same way they did anything with their daughter: with no sign of emotion. Her dad called 911, her mom used old nursing skills to try to slow the bleeding. When Madi woke up in the hospital the next day, she found two disapproving frowns. No tears, no emotions. Just disgust. Madi had officially ruined her life by attempting to end it. First she let her grades slip into B's and C's, then she broke up with her perfect boyfriend and likely future husband to chase some musician kid, then she went and tried to end her life. She was just a disappointment through and through, and Mom and Dad didn't want any more of it.

So when the doctor suggested a stay at New Grove Rehabilitation Center, the Monroes didn't even hesitate to sign the papers and pay the fees.

Nurse Lynne had called the time perfectly. The breakfast bell rang exactly ten minutes later, and Gracie and I rush out of our room, now dressed in the soft cotton T-shirt and pants that are required attire for patients. They're only allowed to wear street clothes for Family Days and field trips.

Breakfast today is French Toast sticks, Madi's favorite. The food in the rehab center is surprisingly good.

The boys whistle from the other side of the room, and I turn to see what the commotion is all about.

Victoria Julin. According to Gracie, she's a drug addict who'll sleep with anyone, anywhere. Her pink-dyed pixie cut, big green eyes, and perfect skin make her look like she belongs in another world.