It was that day again and then it wasn’t. Wednesday night was terror and grief. Those haunted walls will carry with me forever. Its 7:30 on this day and its time to raise my head and walk to misery. The building was white as the moon but s***ty as the gum beneath your feet. As I steeped out of the car smashed cigarettes and foot prints were surrounding the castle of “help”. I’ll never say the reason I was there, except for it was partially my fault. If there something I hated in the world it was soon coming in that one room. As I walked in the door I was burst with the scent of cigarettes. The room was so full of that air it used to be a second home to me. The ratty carpeting and folded chairs I past was nothing compared to the door. The beating in my heart was a rhythmic pounding of dread. I paced my self, turned the knob, and opened the door. Empty couch, tan walls, silent floor, my empty heart. The room was tiny with the lingering scent of old pizza. I was the first there but not the last. My ipod in my ears blasting the only thing that seemed real to me. The door opened they walked in. My mind dropped my heart heavy. “Hi” one girl said, she looked as if she had just been blazing. “Hey” I replied. For that split second the walls weren’t silent. They sat down next to me, there were three. “You screw up, you screw up, screw up!” screamed through my mind. Over and over .It was that one thought that wouldn’t leave, no matter how hard I tried. I had my music on, but I listened. They weren’t too much older than me maybe by a year or so. I listened to them swap drug stories and I thought, and I waited, and I tried to deplete the tears from rushing down my cheek. Those feelings I had weren’t forgotten but those important thoughts were. An hour of this, then two hours later in the next room. I had nothing to look forward to. No friends, no laughs, no smiles. Nothing. It was that time again and then it wasn’t. It was a Wednesday night. I was in that room the one I hated more than anything. And those thoughts and fears that will never fully get out of my mind. I’ll never say why, and I’ll never say how I was there. But the feelings speak for its self. I still hold the pain in my eyes, from the room with the white walls.
July 1, 2010