Chapter 1- Meeting Gwen

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Hello everyone. This is my first ever book published on Wattpad, so stay with me! The first few chapters are going to be shorter than the middle and end chapters due to getting my information together and having all of these ideas in my head.
I hope you enjoy!
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"Hello Gwen, I'm Doctor Lorraine. Welcome to Oak Avenue Rehab Center. It is wonderful to meet you."

The room remained silent. No words were exchanged after her greeting. I couldn't bring myself to say anything. As I looked into her eyes, it was as if darts were shooting through me, reminding me of the all the disappointment and stress I have put onto the people who surround me.

Dr. Lorraine keeps her eyes on me waiting for to answer her, but I couldn't. I don't belong in this room. Her dark grey eyes remained still. I imagine them as sharks--- sharks that try to rip out my heart and listen to every story, feeling, and thought I have ever had.

"Gwen. Why don't you tell me how you are feeling today? How was your breakfast?"

I look at Dr. Lorraine as if she was crazy. She may think that she will get to know me and help me with every single problem I am having in the world right now, but that is impossible. The only person that can solve my own problems is myself. If she had any common sense, she would let me out of this room right this moment, but of course that will not happen, because my parents already paid her, and I would just put more pain upon my parents.

I think about my parents a lot. I ignore Dr. Lorraine's intense stare as I begin to daydream about what they are doing right now. Tears prick at the side of my eyes, I quickly blinked them away before she could see that I showed any emotion to her, but to my dismay she noticed the tears, and wrote something down on her notepad.

That notepad is the death of me. Every action I take, she takes out her purple gel pen and notes it.

"Do you understand why you are here today?" said the doctor.

I couldn't keep my mouth shut for much longer so I did what any hormonal teenager does in any stressful position. I start to cry. Crying is an understatement for the tears I let fall from my eyes. It was like a flood in that room. The only sound I heard was the sniffs and heaves I was trying to contain.

She handed me a Kleenex and I started to reach out for it when the hood of my sweatshirt fell down my wrist exposing my skin hugged forearm. I quickly pulled it back up hoping to the lord that doctor Lorraine didn't see the scars and fresh new cuts made. I'm out of luck again when she grabs her purple gel pen again and starts making new notes on a fresh new page of her notebook.

"Ok. Darling," her thick southern accent cut straight through the air, "just listen to me while you take a tiny breather."

I nodded obediently, wondering what she thinks about me.

"Let's see why you are here at Oak Avenue," she stands up off of her plump chair and walks over to the office table, where sitting, is a thick file with my name, Gwen Summers, embroidered under the name of the rehabilitation center. She slowly picks up the file, while I admire her beautiful nails. Red, glossy, and long. If only my nails were that beautiful.

I look down at my nails and shiver at what I see. The skin is hugging my nail so very closely. My dehydrated nails are cracking by the second. I wonder how she got her nails so alive.

As I look up, she is back in her seat and flipping through multiple pages. "Ok sugar, brace yourself. I am going to read your file out loud. Feel free to throw things just not at me." She winks and waits for my laugh, but I don't give her one. I haven't laughed in a long while.

She clears her throat awkwardly. "Uh, so. You are here at Oak Avenue Rehabilitation center for, lets see here, you suffer from anorexia. Oh, goodness where are my glasses when I need them? What the-?"

I interrupt here with a whisper of "Anxiety."

"Excuse me Hun, what did you say?"

"I said anxiety."

"Uh huh, one second." She flips open her yellow notepad once again and writes down more words.

"May I use the restroom?" I ask quietly. She looks up at me from her intense writing session and nods toward the door, implying that I can. I hop up from my seat. When I stood I went a little light-headed. I grabbed the chair beneath me to balance myself, that's when Dr. Lorraine took more notes.

Oh how I wish I could throw that purple pen and notebook out the window.

I walk down the hallway and admire every picture I pass. Some were masterpieces and a few not. I never really understood art especially the kind that just was squiggles and lines, for those didn't really strike me as art. I could probably paint better than some of the artist who make those.

When I reach the end of the hallway, I see multiple doors. Not knowing which one is the restroom, I open the closest door to me. With my luck, it was not a bathroom, but another therapy session.

"Well hello there," says who I am guessing is the doctor, "and you are?"

I stop staring at my feet for a second to look up, "um I am just, uh, looking for the um the bathroom." I direct my eyes back down to my feet.

"Well. I am sure that Derrick can show you where that's. Go ahead Derrick."

Derrick looks up at me, but I don't meet his eye. I mean, I just ruined his therapy session. He either is thanking me or hating me right now.

We walk out into the hallway together. My hands were shaking slightly so I grab ahold of both of them and shove them into the sleeves of my sweatshirt.

"I'm Derrick by the way."

I don't answer him in fear I will say something wrong, but after a while of walking I gain the courage to say, "Gwen."

As soon as he smiled, I could tell there was nothing to be afraid of. His smile lit up the hallway. He even made me crack a grin. The most I have done in the past 2 weeks.

"Well I just wanted to say thank you for interrupting my therapy session. Dr. Darvon is always on my case. You saved me," His wink left my heart fluttering. "The bathroom is on the third floor by the way." The laugh he gave was in the middle of a giggle and a snort. Not usual, but cute.

I've met guys like Derrick. Tall, muscular, and funny, but the guys I have met wouldn't even give me a second look, but Derrick is actually talking and being pleasant with me.

Derrick interrupted my thoughts when he said, "You don't talk much do you?"

"I-uh not really. I don't really have much to say."

He leans against the door.

"Your bathroom, my lady."

I actually smile at him and walk into the bathroom. I was shocked to see how clean it was. There was no stench whatsoever like there is at my house.

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As I finish up in the restroom, I walk back out to the long white hallway to see Derrick still there propped up against the wall.

"W-what are you-"

His toothy smile appears when he hears me stutter.

"Well the least I could do is walk you back to your room. I mean, you did save me back there from a long lecture," he smirks, "and it would be my pleasure to escort such a pretty girl."

I instantly feel my cheeks turning a shade of pink they've never been before. He lifts his eyebrow and sticks his hand out and I hesitantly take it.

"What room are you?"

I bite my lip and avoid his gaze and mumble "203"

His eyebrows shoot up, which made him even more attractive.

"Dr. Lorraine? Goodness, I feel bad for you. That yellow notepad is so frustrating."
I think Derrick and I might just get along.

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