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Chapter 1

*I'm not going to include one of these for every triggering chapter, but this book is going to contain some very graphic things about self harm, depression, and suicidal thoughts. Read at your own discretion.*

Also, please comment errors on paragraphs as you go if you find anything wrong/needs to worded differently :)

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A grin stretches across my face as my alarm clock begins ringing. Normally the sound is the bane of my existence, but it only sets the mood for an amazing day ahead. I roll, well jump, out of bed and get all traces of sleep out of my body by making many inhuman sounds and performing strange stretches.

My feet pad happily to the closet to put on my normal outfit - a grey tank top and black sweatpants. Despite the gloomy feel of the my clothing colors, my glow never dimmed as I walked out of my room after pulling my hair into a somewhat neat pony tail. 

After way too much walking, I finally manage to reach the dining room. My plate is already set with my normal breakfast meal - scrambled eggs and a waffle. I'm the first one in the dining room, as usual, so I begin my meal as soon as I sit. Breakfast chat is not my speciality, so I do my best to eat my food as fast as I can. Since he left, I had no need to even try to get along with the other members of the house. 

Despite basically shoveling my eggs into my mouth, Samantha, or Sam, plops into the seat to the left of me. Everyone knows never to sit in the seat to my right. Sam has been here for one year, after her mother discovered her daughter suffered from anorexia, and had no clue how to help her. Sam is one of the best when it comes to hiding her true depressed nature. She is spunky, cheerful, and constantly smiling. However, most of us around here know its more or less a show. She doesn't talk much about her illness, unlike some of the others here, but we all know she's making very little progress. Dr. Taylon (affectionately called "Pill Phil" since he gives out our routine medication) has found her multiple times after she tried to skip medicine time, forcing her body to exercise, or even trying to cut away the fat on her arm. Yeah, that was not a fun one to try to clean up.

"Mel! Aren't you excited?" Her enthusiasm makes it come out more as a statement then a question. 

My cheerful mood from the morning seems to carry with me, as I give Sam the first real smile in all of my two years here, "Of course I am!" 

She's slightly taken back by the genuine smile on my face, but continues with the conversation, "Do you know what time you're getting released?" 

"Not a clue," I put another spoonful of eggs into my mouth "hopefully soon, though. I haven't been outside this house in way too long."

"I wonder what it's like out there, now. Like, what is the new fashion trend, or the newest music phenomenon.." Sam lets her mind wander a bit, and I notice the corners of her smile tug down slightly as old memories seem to flood her mind.

I shake my head slightly and smile, "It's going to be so weird. I haven't even seen a phone in two years." Sam laughs lightly in both understanding, and because we sound more like jail mates then rehab patients. 

Mentioning my lack of outside communication brings forth more things to be anxious about. The house therapist, Dr. Marcel, doesn't allow us to speak or see anyone outside from the other residents and workers. This means, I haven't seen my mother in over two years, the same person who I've relied on the most my entire life. To begin with, Mom would manage to slip letters in the mail, and I would volunteer each morning to go check it, but this was short lived after I slept in one morning and an employee checked the mail. The first year or so after that was the worst part. Not even knowing if she was alright. What was going on in her life? Did she ever date anyone new? Does she even look the same?