To Hook A Star |h.s|

Chapter 1

March 5th, 2015

I look outside the car as the rain drops race down the window. I can hear the chatter across the front of the car as the windshield wipers viciously wipe the rain away from my fathers view. I glance at the front of the car to see my mom fiddling with her fingers, something we both do when we're nervous. I stare at the woman in front of me who looks more worn down than usual. Her brown hair cascades down her shoulders and back as she runs a hand through it to get the few stray pieces out of her face.

She looks tired from lack of sleep, bags under her eyes. Her eyes are slightly puffy from crying. I feel a pain in my chest knowing I was the source of her crying and exhaustion. I look in the rear view mirror at the front of the car to see my fathers eyes staring back into mine. His eyes are cold like they always are. He looks away quickly from me eyes going back to the wet road in front of him. I stare at the creases of his forehead as he frowns not showing any emotion at all. I look to the watch on his wrist that he keeps checking for no reason. I've learned over the years that's his nervous tick when he's uncomfortable.

I sigh as I look back out the window and stare at the mountains in the distance. I've never been to Salt Lake City. Why my parents insisted on sending me to Utah for a treatment center I have no idea. I asked my mom why here of all places but she gave no answer. I assume it has something to with my father. Not wanting me close to home so none of his friends find out about my "health" as he calls it sugar coating it. If there's one thing my father is good at, it's avoiding uncomfortable conversations. I stare at all of the signs on the sides of the roads as we pass them. I feel the car slow down and look to the road we're pulling off on. We drive down a long winding road for a minute and then a building comes into vision down the road. I look to the sing in on the front lawn.

Avalon Hills. Eating Disorder Recovery Treatment Center.

The car stops at the front of the building as a women dressed in a white shirt tucked inside of her matching white loose fitting pants walks out of the building. She smiles brightly at me as I step out of the car. "Hello, I'm Evelyn. You must be the Davis family. And you must be Ava Davis, correct?" She says shaking my parents hands. She turns to look at me and smiles sweetly at me. I sheepishly smile back and nod. "It's so nice to meet you. How about we show you your room first and then a tour of the rest of the facility?" She asks looking from me to my parents who both nod. My father and mother take a step forward following behind the nice woman.

She gestured towards a man coming out and he smiles and nods at her. He stares at me as he walks towards the car behind me. "Hello, miss." He says nicely as he starts grabbing my bags out. I smile at him shyly not saying a word to anyone yet. He grabs my bags giving me one last grin before walking in the building. "Ava?" My mother says glancing back at me. I slowly walk up the stairs to the entrance of the building. The door is held open for us as we all walk through. The inside of the building took me by surprise. I was expecting a hospital like environment. White walls, white floors, etc. It was the complete opposite.

The rooms were colorful. Paintings and art all along the walls. Bookshelves filled with books and art supplies. I can only imagine how much this place cost. We follow Evelyn around a few halls and corners until she comes up to an open door. "This is you." She says to me. They make room for me to walk in and I step in between them to enter the room. The first thing I notice is the bed already has my bags sitting on top already. I walk over to the nightstand sitting next to the nightstand next to the bed so see a welcome brochure. I chuckle as my fingers pick it up. "Everything okay?" Evelyn asks me. I put the brochure back down and turn towards her to nod. I walk around my hands brushing the light beige colored walls as I pass.

I look inside the walk in closet to see a fair amount of space but filled with a built in drawers and shelves instead of a clothes rod where clothes normally hang from. I can hear the muffled voices of my father speaking to someone outside of the room. I choose to ignore him and walk over to my bed. I sit on it texting out the firmness of it. I look up as my mother makes her way over to me. "We have to get going." She tells me sadness clear in her voice. I stand up for her to wrap me in an embrace. My fathers walks over as he pull apart and holds his hand out in front of me. I begrudgingly placed my phone in his hands.