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I sat silently in the cold metal chair. I adjusted my loose sleeves on my arms, refusing to let them see the skin. The instructor was standing in the middle of the chair circle. He was smiling at us all in turn, and refused to start until noon. He seemed to have a compulsion for punctuality. He met my eyes and gave me an award winning smile. I tried to match it, but there was no enthusiasm.
The walls were white, and so clean you could lick them if you really wanted to. The ceilings were high and the many lights kept the room lit all the way up to the spiderwebs in the corners.
There were two people next to me who seemed to be bonding over their dreadlocks. They woman’s were clearly the natural type, while the man probably had them done. There was another woman on the other side of me, a tiny asian of some type. Japanese, i had decided. I didn’t usually care about people’s race, but i had never been this bored. She was definitely a legal “little person.”
I had already been sitting there for over a half hour. None of the other facilities had been able to boast that you could make it all the way through withdrawal while they waited for the right time to act.
That’s just a bad metaphor of course, but i could tell the little asian woman was dealing with it right now. Maybe they had been acting on it, but it looked like she had had no help yet.
“Hello, and welcome to group therapy.” The clock had struck twelve three minutes ago, but he waited for his own watch, it seemed. “My name is Eric, and i will be happy to learn all of your names. We at Lord’s Mercy want nothing more than we want to know and help you.”
I suppressed the urge to inform him that he can only say he wants one thing above all else. I crossed my legs and pulled my sleeves over my hands.
“We should all get to know each other. Let’s start with you.” He pointed at the guy next to me. “And then we’ll go counter-clockwise.” I silently thanked God that i would be last. There would most likely be someone with a more intense story than mine.
The guy next to me stood up. “Hi, i’m Craig, Craig Suvans. I’m an addict.” Only a few people replied with the stereotypical “Hi Craig.” I was not one of them. “I have been addicted to cocaine for a month. It may seem like a weird length of time, but my boyfriend instantly sent me here when he found out.”
“The earlier the better, Craig.” Eric insisted. “Do you have anything else to say?” When Craig shook his head, Eric thanked him for speaking and urged him to sit down.
After Craig there was Hailey Harina, on crank. I asked if it was the same thing as meth, and got a few nods but Hailey was insistent it was worse. She was followed by Russel Leyton, he was a middle aged alcoholic. After him was another drunk, Chad Holcombe. Then it got a bit more interesting, Mrs. Jaidyn Bourne, the sex addict. And then here was TIffany Wakeham, only fourteen. She was only here for shelter, her family claiming her lesbianism was an addiction. Though she made it a huge point that she was actually bisexual. Next was the shaky and sweaty Ikki Morioka, a meth head, and the teeth showed it.
And then the attention fell on me. I rolled up my sleeves in a momentary lapse of concentration. I was sure everyone could see the scars the handcuffs had left, but i wanted to fake confidence. I stood, like everyone else did, and i spoke. “My name is Evan Harena. I am a kleptomaniac. I rob banks.”