I took the leap of faith and entered this story into the Wattys! I can't keep count of how many times this story has been rewritten, this time I like this rewrite. Whoever else is entering, lots of luck! Comment on my profile board with your story link, so I can add it to my reading list. ❤❤❤

Warning: the story may contain some violence, strong language, talks of drugs, alcohol and sex.

Chapter 1:

"How do you feel, Ms. Baker?" asked Dr. Brett, startling me from a daze out the clean window admiring the view outside and met his brown eyes across from me.

"I've been better," I answered with an honest smile sitting up straighter in the blue armchair.

"That's good to hear, I bet you're happy to go home."

"You could say that I am," I nodded.

"Tell me some of your thoughts," stated Dr. Brett, pushing the end of his pen with a click ready to write.

I blew out a breath, cheeks still puffed, fiddling with my fingers, "I've... I don't know."

"Come on, safe space remember?" Reminded of the mantra he told me from their first session. I was skeptical, kept things vague but grew to like how neutral and understanding he was. I blinked my dry eyes three times.

"Okay," I leaned forward on my knees, "Maybe I'm just going through the motions but these days I've felt antsy."

"Elaborate." He expressed interest pen on pad and ready to write.

"From waking up in the hospital, appointments, diagnosis, there's this inkling in me that maybe I don't deserve a second chance. Does that make sense?"

"Hmmm." He started writing notes in his pad, I rolled my eyes and huffed out a sigh. One of the things that pissed me off was not knowing what he really thought about me, wishing I could snatch it away and find out.

"I'm crazy right? Is that what you're writing?" I questioned pointing to his notepad.

"We're all crazy, Ms. Baker. Everyone has their neuroses, it takes time and wanting to control our habits to become a better person." I nodded, agreeing at the fact. The session continued, and he listened intently: index finger curved under chin, nodding and mumbling 'mmhmm' to my hour long monologue of the thoughts in my head and vivid dreams. He wrote them down, I felt the tension melt away letting go and conversing.

+++

The session wouldn't be the last, I still had to see him three times a week. An empty feeling hit the pit in my stomach I shook it off moving my shoulders in a shimmy motion. Packing the rest of my stuff, I was ready to start anew. I would miss the friends I have made here, how honest and genuine they were, connecting with the similar issues we had. Looking around the blaring white room, the sun glaring through the glass I squinted. They still didn't give us a curtain.

Kalina, my roommate, entered inside the room, the gold and black hair she usually wore down was up in a bun. She opened her arms for a hug goodbye, we already exchanged numbers to keep in touch. She taught me patience, being a pathological liar and a cutter we found common ground and became close.

"Promise to text me," Kalina said sternly and smiled with watery eyes.

"Of course, you too when you get out this week." I wiped the tears off her blotched cheeks and grinned.

"Jordan, your mother's here," the nurse announced, peeking her head in the room.

"Okay thanks." 8 months and three days at Sunny Gardens mental health rehabilitation. Diagnosed with anger management and anxiety. I kept count in my small spiral journal, crossing off the days on the mini calendar as they passed by.

Zipping my last bag and lifting it on my shoulder, I approached the nurse and hugged her tightly, "I'm going to miss you." Nurse Wilson grew on me, becoming my favorite person. She would sneak me and Kalina chocolate pudding after lunch and was lenient whenever I didn't want to swallow medication. I'm going home, finally. My mood was at an all time high, I can sleep in my own bed again. From misbehaving, rebelling and isolation. I began to open up to for the better. To the therapist, other patients and to myself. It was the detox I needed and I felt good for once. However, I didn't want to deal with family drama, I've already caused enough trouble being here.

As I was escorted out, waving goodbye to the nurses, doctors and other patients, I spotted mom outside on the phone standing by her gray car. Swift ponytail framing her face, smooth brown skin glowing from the sun she placed her phone in her purse, lifting her dark black eyes to me. People would see us and say I was a younger version of her. I didn't see it sometimes but the resemblance was there.

"Honey!" Mom approaching excited, squeezed my shoulder as tight as she could and gave me a light kiss on the cheek. She was more chipper than usual today. Her visit moods were usually sullen from both the divorce and my issues.

"Excited to go home?!" Mom asked letting go but held onto my shoulders.

"Super-duper excited," I answered in a deadpan voice waved my fist in the air lackluster. She rubbed them emphatically but I saw it in her face that she was full of questions. Instead, she grinned tightly and helped with my bags, placing them in the open trunk. "I'm so glad. I missed you around the house." I smiled softly, she unlocked the car, and we entered. I took in a deep, shaky breath. The sense of dread happened again in the pit of my stomach, I had to shake it off. Mom's car jolted forward before she drove at a semi fast speed.