Already Gone

Perfectly Imperfect

"So we have a few options," Dr. Torres said.

   She had returned after a few minutes, and thankfully, I had finished with my crying episode and was trying to be fine. Not going to lie though, the couple of painkillers I took when I was alone was helping.

"What are they?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.

"First, do you have any family?" Dr. Torres asked, "Doesn't need to be immediate or have custody of you or whatever."

I shook my head, "No."

"Okay, well then that really cut down on our options," Dr. Torres clasped her hands together.

"And leaves us with what?" I was hoping the leftover options weren't what I thought they would be.

"Calling DCFS?"

I was quick to shut that down.

"Absolutely not," I shook my head again. "No way, you may as well just throw me back onto the streets."

"What's wrong with DCFS?" Dr. Torres quirked an eyebrow, "I know you do hear of those stories but there are also some really good families. Families who are genuinely trying to help out the kids."

"It's not what's wrong with DCFS," I mumbled quietly.

   Dr. Torres remained silent as she waited for me to continue with a deeper explanation.

   I didn't want to though, because that would mean telling her a little bit too much about myself and I didn't want to do that.

It wasn't what was wrong with DCFS, it was what was wrong with me.

   I thought Dr. Torres would go on talking, but she didn't. It was like she was waiting for me to explain, well, that probably was exactly what she was doing.

"Then what's wrong?" Dr. Torres finally broke the silence by asking.

   I debated whether I should tell her or not. It could get me in trouble, lots and lots of trouble, but at this point, I was starting to wonder what the point of continuing to lie was.

"Stella?"

   I was sick of it, and honestly, I wanted it to be over. I wanted this fake story to be done with.

"I'm hooked," I gushed out, "I'm hooked on painkillers."

There, the cat was out of the bag.

To say that Dr. Torres looked stunned would be like saying that Shaquille O'Neal was tall.

"DCFS isn't the problem," I went on, figuring that I should just keep talking to fill the awkward silence, "I'm the problem. Why would any foster family want me to join them? I'm better off by myself.

"So the painkillers we gave you," Dr. Torres seemed to have finally snapped out of her shock, "That couldn't have started it..."

I shook my head, "It wasn't them."

   Dr. Torres nodded and I wasn't sure what to do so I nodded as well, even though I didn't exactly have a reason to be nodding.

"So how long have you been using?" Dr. Torres asked, her voice soft.

I bit my lip as I tried to remember the first time.

"A while...six months maybe?" I think that was right.

"And only painkillers?"

I nodded, "Yeah, only painkillers."

"How did you get them?" Dr. Torres asked, "Did you injure yourself and the doctor gave you some?"