Arriving Room C1

The minute I heard the news I knew I would be in trouble. My father offhandedly said from the couch “Oh your therapist called. You were accepted into that St. Kristin’s program or something.” Dread filled my entire body. As I stated one hundred times on that stupid application, I just want to be left alone. Instead they decide to accept me and pack me up to meet a whole bunch of new people in a brand new place … GREAT! I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. If I was just moving to my own place with a computer and internet access I would be set. I could write stories all day and be in my own space.

Unfortunately St. Christina’s did not have electronics (without special permission) and single spaces. There would be roommates, classes and social gatherings. My whole body tenses at the thought. It’s not that I’m afraid of anything. I moved around a lot and learning is ok. It’s just the people. There is always going to be a situation where I look like an idiot and someone storms off angry never to speak to me again. Who would want to speak to an idiot anyway? I just can’t take it. I’d rather live in a cave by myself for a hundred years.

At first things were easy. Play the good girl pack my bags. Something I can do by heart after about ten moves. Getting on the plane and ferry were kinda easy too. Don’t talk to anybody, show my ticket, sit down, and stay quiet. Everyone ignores the crazy quite girl near the window seat. Then things started to change though and I don’t think I will like it. After all the “welcoming” I received after my arrival (escorted of course from the airport – lucky my escort was also not a talker) I was finally on St. Christina’s grounds with handbook and all.

The air felt thick and seemed alive full of change. It tingled on my skin. When I was in an open area it was nice to smell the fresh air and imagine all that space to be mine alone. *Definitely not like Jersey.* But whenever someone passed by I quickly looked down at the grass, my face turning a bright red. There were so many people, so many rejections waiting to happen. Finally I made it to my room. Bennett Home for Girls – Floor C – Room C1. I stood outside for 10 minutes fidgeting, wondering who would be inside what I could do to avoid all people in a small shared bedroom. Finally I just closed my eyes a pushed the thick door open. Slowly lifting my eyelids up, I sighed in relief realizing no one was there yet. I went to my bed *number 3* and sat on my bed hoping there would be a miracle and I would unexpectedly get a single. A thought occurred to me as I read the handbook. *All the kids here have been rejected … does that mean we might accept each other?* “Stupid” I said aloud as I whacked my head good with my handbook. *No one will like you*

Mary had been convinced that this new endeavor would bring about redemption and renewed vigor in her faith.

But as her perpetually wide gaze wandered the sterile interiors, that familiar ache began to well in the pit of her stomach. There was something hidden here. Something dark, ominous, hungry pulsating beneath the scoured facade. She had felt back in that squalid Hell they had condemned her to - the grasp of the Devil squeezing around her throat, tightening until light was reduced to exploding red dots. Lurking in the corners of hallways and thoughts, unseen to the faithless masses but guiding their every move. But she could see. And it was here, oh yes it was here.

She braced her wispy frame against a wall. Remember Dr. Weiss, she told herself, you must survive and thrive. Yes, these visions were only attempts to distract her from the path. And they would prey upon her especially when she was alone. Where were the others? Why was she the only one waiting in her assigned room, anxiously twisting delicate fingers together? Could she read the manual for comfort? No, no. Had to get out. Tentatively, she stepped out into the hallway, eyes darting around for the snarling faces of those fearsome security guards. But it seemed that, for the moment, she was left alone to do as she pleased. So she walked.

The place seemed deserted. She shivered, rubbing thin arms with almost vicious fervor as she wandered. Was this another vision sent to play with her mind and torment her spirit? With each step, the pain in her gut heightened until it nearly boiled. Then, quite suddenly, it ceased as she passed by an open doorway. She froze. Inside was a girl, apparently around her own age. Tilting her head, she viewed her new neighbor with a sort of curious intensity that often made others nervous. Colored, she noted, which Father had always implied meant a greater tendency towards sin. However, in her experiences since, she had come to understand that dark and light complexions were equally capable of compassion or cruelty. Besides, Mary had always had a talent for discerning auras, and this girl's one radiated warmth mixed with a sort of self-doubt. Whatever it was, it wasn't threatening.

She paused uncertainly, eyes falling to the floor as she remembered that staring could provoke anxiety and aggression. "Hello," she murmured. "My name is Mary. I hope I did not startle you and that you do not find my behavior too forward."

Going through the St. Christina manual was probably one of the most boring things Hazel had ever read. She loved stories and to get absorbed into books away from people and the outside world, but the manual provided none of that comfort. It was a strict list of do's and do not's. She sighed, thinking ‘well at least it’s something I need to know.’ Suddenly she heard footsteps.

Hazel knew how to avoid people; she had done it her whole life. If you are quiet, people ignore you and go on about their day. In fact people acted as if you were not even on the same planet. Which was amazing considering how much people would talk and how much a listener could learn. In fact in her old school she could probably name every student by face and at least one gossipy thing about them, because no one even took the time to acknowledge her existence when they sat down near Hazel. This also meant that Hazel had learned a valuable skill. She could look completely absorbed in a book or out a window, seemingly inattentive. Yet, she could hear every word spoken around her as if people were talking directly into Hazel’s face. She could identify people accurately by their voices and easy put them to a face simply by looking from the corners of her eyes.

Yet, the girl who had just been footsteps seconds earlier had just crossed that barrier. She engaged Hazel in conversation and Hazel’s mind was quickly doing flip flops. ‘What should I do? Do I tell her to go away? No, I mean it’d be easier if she ignored me, but I don’t want any enemies. Do I ignore her?’ All of her avoidance thoughts told her, ‘yes yes, the girl will go away soon.’ Hazel mentally shook out her brain. ‘No, it wasn’t right to just ignore someone who talked to you. I am not my parents’ Looking from the corners of her eyes Hazel could see the girl looked slightly out of place (like Hazel felt). She was wearing old style clothes ... really old style which definitely clashed with Hazel's Baggy dark green hoody, baggy jeans, and black tennis shoes with white music notes. Keeping her book open and up like a shield, Hazel tried to gather some courage. After a few tense seconds she replied in a monotone voice, “I’m Hazel.” Pausing she continued “Saying your name isn’t forward.”

‘Oh god, oh god, oh god’ her mind was shouting at her ‘she’s gonna think I’m completely idiotic’ While her emotions were trying to be optimistic about this new place and protective against loneliness, Hazel was trying to look nonchalant and calm.

"No, I suppose it is not," she replied softly, her eyes rising to search the girl's expression. It was closed. Walled off. Yet, beneath the apparent calm and nonchalance, she could sense the fear. Smell it, even. That was encouraging. Mary knew that she shouldn't enjoy unnerving others, but after being deemed the local freak so many times, she couldn't help but to take a certain sort of masochistic pride in it. And it was practical. Those who feared her, after all, were a lot less likely to feel confident enough to try and poke their fingers into her gaping wounds. Not that she wished to frighten away this seemingly nonthreatening new neighbor. But she felt reassured in the apparent possibility of controlling the situation.

She smiled, baring teeth that resembled tiny pearls. "Hazel. That is a lovely name. A long time ago, in the paradise of Eden, nine hazel trees grew around the sacred pool of Gods' wisdom. It is said that their roots absorbed the sacred liquid and that is why so many the godless pagans ate their nuts." Her steps were light and dainty as she crossed the room. Fiddling idly with the edge of her voluminous skirt, she perched on one of the empty beds, eyes still on her new acquaintance. "I have a good feeling about you, Hazel. May I ask why you are here? You do not exude the dark energy I sensed from the guards and other inhabitants of this strange realm."

At first Hazel was taken aback by the words Mary had spoken. ‘Hazel trees in Eden and pagans eating nuts, this girl is obviously religious,’ Hazel believed. Hazel’s family hadn’t looked at a bible since … well ever. Hazel didn’t feel threatened or repulsed by religion. Heck, she had grown up in an urban-suburbia, where there were kids from every country, let alone every religion. It was fun to watch everyone get excited for different holidays or celebrations from their cultures. Even her family was multicultural, celebrating quinceañeras, Kwanzaa, and even Christmas. So Hazel herself was very open about letting people be who they wanted and celebrate any religion they choose. However, Mary had quoted the story with ease and conviction that surprised Hazel. Her words made Hazel wonder what the girl would do if she found a non-religious *pagan*. Hazel thoughts wandered for a moment, ‘I bet she would try to convert them, or reject them. Alright avoiding religion topics around Mary’

Then once again her mind quickly had other problems to worry about. The girl had moved in closer sitting on one of the empty beds. A knot seemed to swell in Hazel’s throat. While, Hazel was new to this place, this part of St. Christina’s was considered hers, her room, and her escape. This is the place she wouldn’t leave unless forced to by some strong armed doctor with drugs. At least that is what Hazel told herself, and yet this girl, who wasn’t even her roommate, was only an arm’s length away from her. ‘She has a good feeling about me?’ The words made Hazel ecstatic, because someone liked her. However, her ecstasy was quickly infiltrated by doubt. ‘No way, stop fooling yourself, Mary doesn’t know you. Just go back to being alone then no one will get hurt, especially yourself.’ It felt like a sunny day was interrupted by a tornado and there was nothing she could do but bring her book up a little higher over her face. Mary would have to leave eventually for one reason or another.

‘Why am I here?’ she asked herself, repeating Mary’s question. The dark auras and creepy stuff the girl had talked about Hazel could ignore. This girl, while a little strange, seemed nice and Hazel did not want to be mean to her.

“I’m not a people person,” Hazel finally replied, her face as unemotional as stone. “You? How’d you get here?” she asked and as an afterthought Hazel added “Mary is a nice name too.” In her own way, Hazel was trying to Thank Mary for a compliment by giving a compliment. Still, as soon as it left her mouth Hazel knew it sounded lame.

"Uuuuugh. Stupid fuckin' bag. Frack."

Nell's luggage wasn't in peak condition. The zippers were questionable at best, but the problem at the moment was that fact that the handle finally bit it. Snapping off the old school suitcase (no fancy wheelies in the Sally Anne obviously) the case hit the ground hard and skidded. It was a big piece so carrying it without and handle was awkward. Nell did her best, manhandling the thing in a rather ungainly way. Thus the reason her distaste could be heard down the hall. All the way into her destination, Room C1.

Once the case was supported enough that she could continue on, Nell rushed forward through the hall. She almost plowed over a tiny new girl on the way but soon enough she was there. Loosing her grip a bit and crashing into the door frame. Thank god the case only help her clothes and make-up. All her precious things housed in her laptop bag and camera case slung over her shoulder and around her neck.

"Crippled Christ on a crutch..." was exclaimed as the case bounced off the doorfame to the ground were it sprung open. Nell paused in the doorway to cringe theatrically and lightly bang her head on the frame in frustration. She sighed and tossed her blond hair off her shoulder with a flick of her head. She gave the two unfamiliar faces as little tired smile. "Hey hey. just a sec." Hopping over her open case and scattered things Nell bee-lined for the bed assigned as her and carefully slipped off her tech related baggage to place them neatly on her bed. Then she strode over to the other girls. Clad in the shortest pair of jean shorts that Hadley had allowed her to keep the day she arrived, a pair of wedge heels that laced several times around her ankles, and a fitted T-shirt with a pink mandala patterned across the chest. She beamed her biggest brightest smile despite the disarray of her entrance.

"Hi there cuties. I'm Nell Hedon."

Hazel heard a commotion from down the hall. It seemed like more people were finally starting to arrive. She remembered that there were three other beds in the room. Plus the one person who had already started to talk to her wasn’t even her roommate. She had been wondering what they would be like, avoidable hopefully.

Then she heard it “BANG!” A suitcase and its owner came into her room. Hazel’s eyes closed as she got visibly more uncomfortable. This girl was definitely one of her roommates considering how she went straight for one of the open beds. Hazel had planned to just keep eying her book. However, it dawned on her that seeming enthralled in the St. Christina’s patient manual would seem stupid, not only because it was dull, but also because this girl’s entrance had been so disruptive. Social cues could truly suck sometimes. She didn’t want to play nice; she just wanted to go deeper and deeper into herself. At the same time she wanted to be accepted by this girl and her mind was screaming at her to do too many things at once. ‘Ignore her so she won't talk to you. No talk to her and make a friend. Don’t you dare she will just betray you. No help the girl with her luggage then she’ll like you.’

Hazel had no idea how she would get through this place. One perk to being an only child was that you had your own room … always. She had never been asked to share her space, her stuff, or even her pencil. She didn’t know when having two people in a room had started to freak her out. At this moment she realized it wasn’t the fact that two people were in the same space she was. It was just that ONLY two people were in the same space she was. So Hazel couldn’t fade into the background. She was on stage and was making a fool of herself and she knew it. Finally she set the manual down, opened her eyes again and looked up at the girl … Nell as she announced herself. Hazel looked around a little and found what she wanted placed right next to her. She lifted up her notebook. On the front in a slightly funky design with her name in it (like on my signature). She decided to let her writing speak for itself at least for now. Waiting to see what would happen Hazel prayed that she still had an unfeeling, don’t care what you think, tough presence.

Not a people person. She could understand that. People were dangerous, after all, and those who viewed the world with wide eyes and an open heart were doomed to be infected. As Hazel complimented her name, her lips quirked in a genuine smile. Mary was a common name. But that in itself was precious, beautiful. So many, even in the age of the faithless, still wished to pay the Virgin tribute. Even if the flattery wasn't entirely sincere and a product of societal nicety, the girl seemed polite and considerate. Yes. Perhaps their conversation could get more interesting. But just before she could respond -

"Crippled Christ on a crutch!" The exclamation practically echoed as a bubbly creature burst into the room with what seemed as much volume and chaos as it could muster. Mary's smile faded quickly as her head swiveled around, gaze fixing on the newcomer and widening slightly as it proceeded to bang its head on the door frame. This new girl was blond, pretty as pie, and wearing clothes that guaranteed a certain kind of popularity. After her moment of performance was done, she bounced over to the pair, clearly expecting a charmed reception and obviously not caring if she was interrupting a conversation.

How distasteful.

Like clockwork, she noticed Hazel's attention shifting away, fixating on the prospective acquaintance who was obviously used to making friends and have the world cater to her every pretty mindless whim. But Mary carefully kept her features free of disdain. Instead, she slowly rose and clasped her hands before her. "Hello, Nell Hedon," she greeted softly. "I am Mary Powell. If you do not mind my asking, is there a reason why you think it is to take the Lord's name in vain? I do not mean to judge - I am simply curious."

Nell could be comparable to a hurricane at times. Such a flurry of energy and spirit wasn't often spotted in the halls of rehab. Too often the people there walked with their head hung and their feet dragging, shuffling across the floor. Nell never shuffled, hell, she skipped half the time. With a smile on her face and song on the tip of her tongue. However, as much of an oddity as she was it wasn't often she was so blatantly stonewalled. She was about to extend a hand, shake like the civilized people do but faltered at the sight of their faces.

Well shit... was her first though. Her arm moved awkwardly in her attempt to recover. She shoved it in the back pocket of her shorts. She shifted from toe to heel at first. Uneasy and unsure of how to proceed. The moment of silence was something else. The uber blonde girl stepped forward before Nell could notice the subtle moves of the other. Her smile slipping a bit as the blond spoke and as Nell finally took note of her high collar and low low hem line. Damn damn damn goddamn was her only thought as she scrambled for something to say.

"Uuuuh, well... I guess it's just the way I grew up ya know? I didn't have no sweet and shiny parents to raise me better. And once you're being thrown around the Kansas foster care system I guess they got bigger fish to fry then something as harmless as a potty mouth." Nell gave a little shrug as she said it. She wasn't going to apologize, the Mary girl hadn't asked for one and Nell had never expected any one at Hadley to apologize to her for anything. People did what they did. Trying to take something back was a lie. She's much rather stay true.

She felt tense and uncomfortable for a moment. Until Nell spotted the perfect distraction as she realized the one girl was holding up her book for a reason. She peered at the front cover with a little "ohhh..." lifting off her lips, light as a bird.

"Hazel huh? That's a rad name, I mean how many people have a zee in their names. Way cool. So are you mute then? It's cool there used to be a couple kids that didn't talk back in the day. They managed pretty good with the whole writing in notebooks thing. At least from what I could tell. But daaaaaang. Back in the day I had this one youtuber try to teach me some ASL. I wish I remembered some now. Ahhh... it's too bad. His fault though. Total hottie, way distracting."

Nell gave a little giggle, she was just yammering on and on after all. She gave an apologetic look and headed for her things, she didn't want to leave it on the floor to be tripped over or stomped on. She rearranged the blown suitcase and tried to pile as much of her stuff back on. Intending to carry it back to her bed laid out like a huge pizza on her arms.

"I don't know about this, Celeste."

Mariah was making slow and jerky progress down the hallway to her new room. The reason for this may have been that she only had two hands, but for the amount of stuff she was carrying she needed at least three. In the first place, there was her suitcase, which in and of itself might have required two hands. In the second place, she was clutching the patient handbook she had been given like a talisman to ward off evil. She probably could have stuck it into a pocket on her suitcase or even her pants, but she was holding onto it, as though to prove to anyone who might be tempted to make trouble for her that she had no intention of breaking the rules.

In the third place, she had one arm firmly locked around the stuffed elephant Dr. Wynn had given her for Christmas, which had literally not left her side since he gave it to her. She knew the other freshmen gave her funny looks when she walked into class carrying a plushie, but for Mariah it was both a promise and a protection. It showed her that, no matter how scared she got, there was someone out there who loved her...and somehow, hugging it made her feel safer, more secure. Nobody could hurt her. She had her elephant.

Stopping for a quick breather, she glanced down the hallway. A door was open; light was spilling out into the hallway, and she could vaguely hear voices. That had to be her room. Squaring her shoulders, she began dragging the suitcase the rest of the way up the hall.

At first glimpse, it looked like Mariah was the last one to arrive; four beds, and three girls. But two beds were unoccupied, so maybe one of the girls was a visitor. One was standing, one was sitting, and one was bending over a pile of clothing that appeared as though her suitcase had exploded. Mariah swallowed nervously and stepped forward into the doorway. "I'm so sorry if I'm interrupting, but I just found out where I was supposed to be and--Nell!"

She dropped her suitcase and the patient handbook without thinking (but still kept a hold on Celeste) and leaped towards her friend, intent on giving her an enormous hug. "I can't believe it! I'm so glad you're here!"

Finally remembering that there were other people in the room, Mariah flushed dark red and turned sheepishly to look at them. "Sorry," she said softly. "I just...I'm sorry." Swallowing, she offered, "I'm Mariah...Mariah Rose."

As soon as Mary stood up Hazel felt the tension, like lead had been forced between the three girls. ‘Why did Nell have to mention religion? This is the point where Nell would grab Mary’s weave and a brawl would break out. Ok so Mary didn’t really have a weave, but fights like that happened all the time in stories,’ she alleged.

What happened next really surprised Hazel. Nell *didn’t* try to fight with Mary. She tried to defuse the situation instead. No one Hazel knew would have ever admitted defeat like that to avoid a fight. Most people wanted to prove they were right no matter what. All of a sudden Hazel had a little respect for Nell. That is until the attention was focused on her again. Hazel’s expression didn’t change, but she almost felt … happy. She had just received a second compliment on her name from the first two people she met. Maybe it would be ok here. Maybe she would make a friend.

Then a second, more realistic thought, flashed through her mind. Nell thinking Hazel was mute would be a great idea if Nell was willing to do all the chatting. However, there would be terrible consequences if it came out later that she had lied. Plus Mary already knew that Hazel could speak. Yet, for a few hopeful minutes it seemed Hazel wouldn’t have to say anything. Nell kept talking and then she went to pack up her clothes. Hazel was just about to help Nell out when another new face showed up.

Her entrance was so similar to Nell’s that Hazel almost laughed. A dropping suitcase, a shocked scream and an awkward pause. At the last second she caught herself making sure she still had an unemotional look. She thought (or at least hoped) only people really close to her could tell the small changes in the edges of her mouth or eyes when her emotions nearly slipped out. Which meant no one at the moment.

Either way there were more introductions to be done. Still slouched on the bed, “Hazel,” she said once again monotone “Hazel Rodriguez. Bed 3.” Hopefully that sounded tough, she didn’t want to be callous, but she didn’t know how to be nice without being hurt. Better safe than sorry.

Then she looked towards Mary. She hoped the girl had forgiven Nell for her comment, but even more then that she really wanted to talk to Mary and get to know her. “Where’s your room?” she asked. It was a direct question, but it seemed like something that Hazel needed to ask. She needed that information thinking somehow she might get to see the girl again. Truly she wanted to talk to everyone in the room and be their friend but there were too many things standing in her way. Mostly herself, but she knew her roommates would be around … always for good or bad. However Mary was an undetermined variable. She didn’t know quite who Mary was or how she would react and Hazel wanted to be sure there was a way she could learn more about Mary later on.

Mary's eyebrows arched as the new girl mentioned the Kansas foster care system. Then, her eyes narrowed slightly, expression thoughtful. Even here. Even here, it would follow her. It could not be mere coincidence. She considered for a moment bringing up the shared elements of their past - perhaps they could even trade tidbits of bitter nostalgia. But no. It was clear they were too different. Whatever had happened to her fellow inmate in those dark and uncertain homes, it hadn't wiped away her almost painfully gleaming smile. She didn't respond and let her gaze descend to the floor as Nell went over to gush over Hazel's guidebook, prattling on to hide her obvious discomfort. When yet another overly cheery girl of uncontrolled volume hopped into the room, she didn't even look up. Mariah. Nell. Hazel. Their names echoed in her thoughts. Despite her obvious lack of bonding potential with the former two, it was important to memorize details.

“Where’s your room?” The question snapped out of her haze. Uncertainly, she met those shy dark eyes again. Oh yes, this wasn't even her room, was it? She was an outsider in this intimate little group. Furthermore, what would the residents of her room be like? Heaving a deep sigh, she supposed it was time to go find out.

"Forgive me," she replied. "I did not mean to overextend my welcome. It was a pleasure meeting you three. I will return to B1 now." Inclining her head politely, she drifted past a deeply flushing Mariah towards the door.

A girlish squeal of delight hit the air as Mariah's arms enveloped the blond. To say Nell missed rooming with Mariah was an understatement. Nell could get along just fine with Sophie but Mariah was one of her nearest and dearest. Nell squeezed the little wayward brunette in a tight hug, her clothing forgotten once more and being stepped on by her wedge heels. The fabric ocean on the floor clearing unstable footing and making the hug a clumsy and stumbly variety. Mariah practically had to hold the older girl up. This was going to be great Nell decided. Like a slumber party every night with the full four including her and Mariah. Even if they were roomed with a mute and a religious type. After all Madeline used to be proper like that. After meeting Nell she began a teen mom. The blond was pretty sure she could break this god-fearing type just as easily.

"I'm so happy you're here! Oh mi gaaawd... I missed you cuppycake!" Nell grinned wide and finally released her friend form her tight bear hug. The silly term of endearment sliding off her tongue like nothing. As natural as breathing. Shaking away a bit of the blond hair that had fallen over her eyes. But then there it was again. The Lord's name in vain? Well not really. Doesn't vain mean mad or something...angry? Nell wasn't sure. Was it bad if you said it because you were happy? Nell couldn't imagine it would be. Either way she didn't mean it in a nasty way. Hopefully with Mary would understand. After all Nell was cool with her religious whatever...

Nell's eyebrows disappeared under her side bangs when Hazel spoke. Her lips popping open in the style of a guppy. Her cheeks flushed ever so slightly. Her she's assumed the girl was mute like some kind of idiot. Trying to hard to make her feel welcome had shot the attempt in the foot.

"Oh sorry, I just assumed... Sorry sorry. I'm such an idiot sometimes." Nell gave a whoopsies face and gestured to Mary for Mariah's benefit "And this is Mary," she tried to explain. Just as Mary began to excuse herself and head for the door. "Oh so you're not our fourth? I wonder who we got... Mariah did you see any paper work?" then she turned back to Mary quickly. "You don't need to run off if you don't want. No rush, hunny." She gave her most welcoming smile. As weird as the girl may be well... Nell was a weirdo too wasn't she? She always wanted to hope that she made everyone feel all welcome and hunky dory. She'd spent too much time alone and lonely to ever wish it on another person.

Nell's arms around Mariah was probably the best thing the younger girl had felt in a long time. Like Celeste, Nell represented safety. This was going to be possibly the best rooming situation she had had since the move from Louisiana, no matter what the other two girls were like. Mariah was confident that with Nell around, everyone would turn out to be sweet and amazing, just like her.

"I missed you, too," she said, grinning up at Nell as the blonde released her and stepped back. "I was kind of worried that I wasn't going to be rooming with anyone I knew." Left unspoken was the fear that her destroyed file meant that someone would have stuck her in a room with Niamh Bright again. She had seen Dr. Bjorgen on the ferry, but he had looked preoccupied, and she hadn't held out much hope that he would have remembered. And had anyone else ever known? But Nell was here and everything would be all right.

She turned to smile at Hazel as she introduced herself. Nell seemed surprised, but Mariah wasn't quite sure why, and she recovered and introduced the other girl. "It's nice to meet you both," she said brightly. Two blondes and two brunettes--it was going to be an interesting year.

But it quickly transpired that Mary was not, in fact, a resident of their room--she wasn't even in the same ward. Mariah stopped smiling as the girl apologized for overstaying her welcome and tried to leave. "No--don't. It's okay. I'm sorry if I made you feel unwelcome. You're more than welcome to hang around." Turning to Nell, who had asked about paperwork, she added, "I don't think I saw anything. I was going to ask who my roommates were, but a couple of boys showed up trying to figure out where they were going and the orderlies fell all over themselves getting them to the right building. Maybe she'll be here soon."

Mary just sniffed at both of what she considered to be paltry attempts. Neither seemed actually committed to speaking to her or Hazel, and were likely only playing nice because they were unused to criticism. How did such vapid little pretties ever come to be institutionalized? But she shouldn't think that way. No, she shouldn't. Especially not when they were being so kind and gracious. They were nothing like the girls in the dark place, after all, the ones that had threatened to split open her soft cheek when she quoted the Lord's words. Even if their smiles masked ill intent, it was better than openly being disrespected.

So why did she feel this loathing? This deep repulsion unsettling her stomach? Of course. It was the Devil in her thoughts, making her bitter, envious, and cold. The evil was seeping in already. She had to go, had to get away. Without bothering to respond or even look at the other girls, she hurried out of the room into the hallway, wringing her pale hands as she raced back to her assigned domain.

Once again Nell had shocked Hazel. ‘She apologized? She apologized for thinking I’m a mute.’Hazel never expected anyone to apologize to her … I mean she wasn’t worth it. Plus had thought that Nell was all light and sunshine and she never expected her to apologize for making assumptions. In Hazel’s mind assuming someone was a mute wasn’t a huge deal anyway. She wondered if kids at her old school had thought she was a mute kid?

Anyway coming back to the present it seemed like her roommates just kept surprising her more and more. So the fourth girl was still a mystery. Hazel couldn’t deny she wanted to know what the fourth was like too. ‘Would she be like Mary … or Nell and Mariah? She had no idea. At least Mariah and Nell seemed to be in the same category, Happy and outgoing although Mariah had seemed a little quieter than Nell. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t assume things though,’ she acknowledged. Hazel also wondered about the stuffed animal Mariah carried around with her. After all she didn’t drop it when all of her other things went down.’ Hazel mentally shrugged to herself. She had so many questions she wanted to ask, but Hazel wasn’t about to say anything. No doubt Mariah would tell if she wanted too anyway. Maybe it was a comfort like Hazel had in her notebook. She wrote everything inside that little journal.

Suddenly Mary headed for the door. At least she had answered Hazel’s question. B1. Hazel quickly wrote that down in her journal. After all maybe she could visit Mary later … if she decided facing more people was a good idea. The future seemed really uncertain at the moment. Plus Mary had left without reacting when Nell and Mariah asked her to stay. She got the feeling that Mary didn’t like them. Maybe it was the Christ on a Crutch thing that Nell had mentioned earlier.

Hazel didn’t know what made most people tick and her head was swarming with new information about the people in her room. ‘OK so it isn’t that much info.’ Hazel had to admit, but she was over thinking it. Hazel was trying to ascertain what each little bit of information meant and it felt like a code she couldn’t decipher. It was the same thought process she had whenever she said anything. After all making mistakes could mean having an enemy. Yet maybe this over-analyzes was the same thing that isolated her in the first place. She decided to stuff the conversations in the back of her brain for the moment so she could at least concentrate on the situation in her room.

Then she heard it. The awkward silence. It could be a death sentence on friendships if the silence lasted too long. She had to break it, but she didn’t know how. ‘Oh god why didn’t this place have singles,’ she asked herself. Then a thought popped into her brain. “So …” she began once again monotone, “you know each other?”

Nell let loose a low whistle once Mary was out of ear shot. As nice as she tried to be, it was obvious right off the bat that no amount of friendliness would have salvaged that. Nell was very much a live and let live philosophy and she doubted that the other blond held the same philosophy. In fact, Nell would bet every one to the hard earned cents she had that Mary would have things to say about more of Nell's behavior than just the swearing. Her lifestyle and pre-bed ritual specifically. Be it her bedtime short shorts, camisoles, or her pre-sleep meditation that involved her hands below the belt. Having another person tell Nell what to do was not something she could stand. She was young, beautiful, clever, and in charge in her opinion. No one had any business in her business and her business was whatever she chose it to be.

Nell was used to the quite types. Lots of kids at Hadley were, after all. Nell was always happy to take the first step, extending a hand. So Hazel didn't faze her. Not at all or in the least. Nell was positive the other girl would open up in time. That was all some kids needed was time. Like Mariah for instance. She'd seem so soft, quiet, sweet when they first met. But Nell had took a hammer to that shell, cracked it wide open. The meaty insides where just as sweet and perhaps even with a little more sparkle. Nell loved that. She only hoped she could do the same for Hazel, Hazel who was so quite Nell had thought her devoid of vocal cords.

"Yeeeeeeah, Mariah got shuffled into my room when she first got to our old school-hospital-thingy, Hadley. Poor thing, right?" Nell smirked and gave a little giggle at her own joke. "So where are ya from Hazel? Did they have you locked up someplace before this as well? We were at Hadley, the place was like... one part school, one part hospital, 100% prison. Swear to god... I am pretty sure even maximum security prisons allow internet, just with like mega firewalls. But we had intranet which is like a self contained thing. So you could like chat with other people in the same computer room or like... look things up with a digital dictionary that they built but that was like... it. Oh but don't worry. We were a couple of the good kids. I just realized how that 'maximum security prison' analogy sounded. Totally bad. No, don't worry. We're not the 'cut you while you sleep' types. In fact, I heard these wards were supposed to be like security based. Apparently all the C's are the good kids."

Mariah was slightly bewildered by Mary's departure. In her year at Hadley she hadn't encountered too many of the resistant people. Most of the people she had met had been friendly, if guarded. The only people she had met who had been actively cruel or rude had been Niamh, who had scared the ever-loving crap out of her; Harmony, who had started off being sweet as pie and then suddenly, abruptly turned into a degrading harpy; and Audrey, the boy who had done everything in his power to provoke rage in Dr. Mathis and Dr. Sharpe during the GT session when they had played "Never Have I Ever" and she had won. She had never seen a person who would get offended and then rebuff attempts to apologize. Nell seemed to understand, though, so Mariah decided to trust her roommate and just go with the flow.

She giggled a little at Nell's joke and pushed her friend's shoulder good-naturedly. "She's such a kidder. Rooming with Nell was the best thing that happened to me the whole time we were in Louisiana. And she was the one who talked to Dr. Bjorgen and got me away from my crazy roommate when we got to New York," she added. Other things tumbled through her mind--the snowball fight on the grounds, the fun they'd had setting up her intranet account, the GT session they had both ended up in, the card game on the plane. Yes, most of Mariah's happiest Hadley memories involved Nell. The rest involved either Dr. Wynn or Roscoe--the three people at the school who had cared about her and looked after her. The three people she felt safest with. No one could hurt her when they were around. There was something to be said for simple faith.

At Nell's description of Hadley, however, Mariah nodded. "And we weren't allowed out of the grounds at all. Like, ever. Not unless there was something special going on, and then we had to have a staff member with us the whole time. At least here we get to go out during the day and walk around town. I think they'll even let us get jobs--I mean, if we're old enough." She smiled. "I was reading in the patient handbook a little while ago--Ward C people mean we've got the best chance of getting out of here. We're almost ready to go. They just have to make sure we're all the way fixed before they let us out."

Mariah almost asked Hazel why she was at St. Christina's, but stopped herself. She remembered Nell's advice from when they had first met--never ask a patient what her issue was. You probably didn't want to know. The fact that they were in Ward C didn't make that advice any less relevant. So instead she smiled and waited to see what Hazel would volunteer on her own.

When Nell was talking about all the - bad cut you in your sleep kids - Hazel’s heart skipped a beat. People had called her horrible names before. She had even been pushed and hit a few times from really nasty kids, but would someone really hurt someone while they were sleeping? Hazel didn’t show any change in her face, but her insides cramped up a little more inside. Maybe she could trust Nell and Mariah didn’t seem like the type to hurt a fly, but she didn’t even know the name of their fourth roommate. Maybe cameras were a good thing in the dorms. Sure they caught every uncomfortable moment of the girls’ lives, but they might also protect them as well … or at least Hazel hoped so.

Then Mariah started talking too. “And she was the one who talked to Dr. Bjorgen and got me away from my crazy roommate when we got to New York” This sentence made Hazel run cold. What if Mariah or Nell thought Hazel was crazy? Would she be transferred into a more restricted ward? Would she be thrown in with the people who cut you at night? After all if Nell had that power with the Dr. Bjorgen (whoever he was) what would happen? She held her notebook a little tighter. Hazel knew she was taking Mariah’s words out of context, but that just made Hazel feel even stupider. After all Nell and Mariah couldn’t hate her already, she had barely said two words. This is why she hated socializing; it confused her and made her act stupid in front of people.

Even though she was critiquing herself Hazel was still listening to Mariah. She was glad they had privileges to go into town too. After all if St Christina’s was too chaotic she could always find a spot to lay low somewhere on this island. For a second she thought it might even be fun to hang out at the beach with friends, but the thought was quickly replaced by worries of being ousted from a group. Suddenly both of her roommates had stopped talking. ‘Crap, they are waiting for me to respond.’ She thought panicking a little.

She was unsure how to answer Nell’s question and how her answer would be received by the girls. If she told the truth would they hold the answer against her? If she lied what would they do? She really didn’t want to push Mariah and Nell away, but she was afraid of the girls’ rejection. Hazel shrugged, “I was in for socialization therapy. It didn’t work in N.J. so I’m here.” Her response was direct and to the point and she looked down at her notebook hoping to avoid eye contact. Looking down she noticed that one of Nell’s shirts had flown out of her suitcase and landed near Hazel’s bed. Hazel picked it up and tried to fold it as neatly as she could. Then she held it out for Nell, never looking up as if the shirt was really not her concern.

Now to the normal eye Hazel just did two contradictory things. First she answered questions in a deep uncaring voice. Even her body language emulated, leave me alone with a slight tough girl act. Yet in the next second she was helping to pick up an unnoticed piece of clothing. But you see this is how Hazel’s mind worked. She acted tough and cold so she would not be hurt by others, yet subconsciously she was a really sweet girl. She would never hurt others and wanted to make friends. (So at times she instinctively does nice things.) It was small things like this that made her tough girl act flawed and it is often the weak point that others would use manipulate Hazel in the past.

It was too bad really, that she got to settle into this nice room, knowing she'd be transferred out before she knew it. She was only a month and a bit off eighteen at this point. Slowly she was coming to terms with that fact that she probably wasn't about to be released into the great wide world now that the doctors had an adult facility to play with. Surely they'd require some people to fill the beds there if they wanted to keep it running. That seemed to be all Nell was there for anyway. Filling a bed. A small hope still flickered in her that maybe, just maybe,on July 5th she'd walk into the psychiatric offices only to be congratulate and see her file marked with a comically large rubber stamp reading 'CURED'. Contrary to popular belief however time did not heal all wounds and time was all Hadley had ever provided her with.

She bit her tongue about it all though. Mariah was so happy to see her, Nell would rather not remind her of how time was marching on around them. Better to focus on the brief positive, at least in Nell's opinion. Perhaps, with a little luck and charm Nell could turn this dorm into a happy, friendly type of place. Leaving Mariah in a good spot that could sustain itself once Nell was hauled off to the big kids table. It could soften the blow of leaving her a bit, knowing she was in a good place...

"Oh thanks," Nell said, with a big genuine sort of smile. Taking her T-shirt and placing it in a drawer. Hazel didn't seem to really be into conversation so much, but Nell wasn't about to give up short of Hazel attacking her with a shovel conjured from pure anti-social rage. "Okay, socialization therapy... that's where they just like... stick you in a room with people and expect you to all talk and be friends right? I think I had to do that when I was a kid, but it was like... before the term was in vogue or something... Whatever, I'm sure it's like... mega-different from the elementary school level I was in. Anyways. Jersey huh? You know any juice-head guidos like on the show?" Nell grinned, and wandered over to start digging through her clothes and putting them here or there. She couldn't resist the temptation, never mind the fact that the whole topic reminded her of a certain someone. Granted Eri was much classier than the Jersey Shore variety of Italian. There still remained a common thread outside of the fake tan and Ed Hardy type.

((ooc: sorry I dropped the ball on this so badly. Next time feel free to remind me... hell hound me if you want))

Mariah was about to offer to help Nell gather up her clothing when she realized she had dropped her own suitcase--and the handbook. Flushing slightly, she went back to the doorway and retrieved her things, straightening the crumpled pages of the handbook and hauling her suitcase, with a mighty effort, over to the side of her bed. She dropped it heavily onto the mattress, set Celeste down next to the pillow, and began her own unpacking. She didn't have much in the way of clothing; she had hit a growth spurt over the year she had been at Hadley and had been mostly living in uniforms. Besides the outfit she was wearing--a pair of jeans and a polo shirt--she had two other pairs of pants, three flannel work shirts left over from the farm, a couple of threadbare t-shirts, one oversized maroon hoodie with the Montana Grizzlies logo plastered across it, and four sweaters, which she carefully packed away for later. Almost everything else she had outgrown. She had, however, found the card for her bank account, so she could at least get a few more things in town at some point. Fortunately she was still flat-chested and didn't need bras yet.

Most of the rest of her suitcase, and the reason it had been so heavy, was full of books. After a moment of indecision, she placed half a dozen of them, spines outward, on her end table. Most of them were her favorites, but one was the book she was reading at the moment, and the other was one she kept meaning to read and hadn't gotten to yet. The rest she began organizing in her suitcase, spines facing up, intending to keep them there and simply slide it out from under her bed as she needed to--an under-bed bookshelf. As she did so, she listened to Hazel and Nell talking.

The term "socialization therapy" was a new one by her, and she looked puzzled. "Why do they have to have a special word for that?" she wanted to know. "I mean, isn't that what preschool and day care is--putting a bunch of people together and telling them to make nice?" The question was totally innocent; she really didn't understand what was going on. The idea that it might have come across as hostile or offensive never crossed her mind.

When Nell asked Hazel about New Jersey, though, Mariah's eyes widened. She had lived her entire life in Montana before the drive to Louisiana and Hadley, so her ideas of New Jersey came from what she had heard--mostly in the forms of jokes. The one that popped into her mind first was Why is New Jersey full of toxic waste and New York full of lawyers? Because New Jersey got to pick first. Her mind was a whirl of stereotypes and movies she wasn't supposed to have seen. But Hazel didn't seem like that kind of person...

Softly, she asked, "I've never been to New Jersey. What's it like?"

Socialization therapy … it was a lot of effort from therapists that just made the participants even less social. Nell’s description was nearly spot on. They basically stuffed a bunch of unsocial kids in a room and said play together. What the psychologists forgot was that unsocial meant avoidant kids like Hazel mixed in with kids who were scared of their own shadows, with a sprinkle of violent recluses. Every once in a while the psychiatrists would try a get to know you game, but it always ended in silence or chaotic fighting depending on what kids were in which group. Hazel was part of the first research group to try a live in socialization therapy at Garnet Youth Psychiatric Help Center and the last group too, according to the results the doctors ended up with. Boy did those three months really make Hazel want to stay away from kids her own age.

Once again shrugging like the question wasn’t really interesting Hazel said a few words, “It’s like you say, but worse … it had teenagers.” Hazel wasn’t trying to make a joke, but the truth did seem kind of funny. After all hormones were the amplifiers of all issues. Plus Mariah was right, these were skills all children were supposed to learn in kindergarten. Be good … make friends, but something must have gone wrong in the process if there were so many people who had problems.

If Hazel could predict the future, she would have told Nell and Mariah that St. Christina’s was full of more socialization therapy than Hazel had ever gotten in her life. The Youth Center she was hospitalized in, had twenty kids at the most. Plus Hazel her own room with privileges to go home on some weekends, unlike St. Christina, the huge, full of people, hospital they were all stuck in.

Settling back on the bed Hazel decided to multitask and watched Mariah from the corner of her eyes as she unpacked several books. She did this while keeping focus on the conversation. Hazel liked reading and she wondered if she had read any of the books Mariah had. She couldn’t read the titles from so far away so she started to think about her hometown. At least New Jersey was a better place to think about than a hospital … mostly.

Hazel was from Northern Jersey which meant she cringed every time she even heard the name Jersey Shore. Those people gave Jersey a bad name and only one of them came from Jersey in the first place. Hazel herself didn’t fit any of the horrible stereotypes; she didn’t even have a Jersey accent. Every once in a while a word would slip like though, like, dog would sound like (dawg) when Hazel felt out of place. Tv and movies weren’t completely wrong about N.J. Everyone knows the Italian mob from the godfather really does exist … well probably. Thinking about a way to describe N.J. Hazel tried to pick one word that really emphasized the place. “Crazy. N.J. is a contradiction.”

*Anybody and everybody lives there. It has all different places between city and country, with many people too.* she was thinking of all the famous people who were born in NJ too like Billy Joel. *N.J. loves strange people and thrives on their weirdness*

“It’s small, but big. Anything you want you can find in Jersey and they accept everyone unless you aren’t tolerant then you’re an outcast.” *Or unless you are so nuts that they think you belong in N.Y. or worse Ohio.* Hazel remembered thinking of herself. Heck they even accepted gangsters, but mental disorders were a totally different ball game.

Suddenly Hazel felt really tired. Talking with her new roommates was exhausting the Jersey girl. On top of which she was still trying to act tough. She needed to relax for a little while even if it was just enough time to get her composure back. Hazel lifted herself off the bed and for a second she wasn’t sure how to excuse herself from the situation. Could she just walk out of a room? Her parents hadn’t cared if Hazel left a room, because they never really talked to her, but it see weird to leave without any warning. In school you had to ask permission to leave the room, but a teacher was much older than teenage girls were. What if it was super rude to leave during a roommate conversation or what if she was supposed to report where she was going to her roommates? After a moment’s hesitation Hazel went to the door and stated “be back” short and fast. Her need to get out if the spotlight far outweighed the worry of a being rude. She didn’t know how long she would be gone, but she would be back … eventually.