Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
Nurse Cami makes her next move, and I sigh. She chuckles, the victorious glint in her eyes as sly as always. How the hell is one person so good at playing chess? This is the fifth time this week she’s won.
“Check-mate,” she clasps her fingers together, propping her elbows on the desk, then leans her chin on her hands. A small smile is on her lips. “Although, you’re getting better at this. Maybe you’ll win against me someday.”
I scoff. “I doubt it. You’re like a professional.”
She chuckles, waving me off. “Hardly. You just really have to work on your poker face, it’s terrible.”
A frown etches on my face. “Is that how you’ve been able to beat me?”
“Yes,” she snickers. “I knew your move before you made it, just based on your face. So, while you made the move, I calculated the next three in my head.”
“Alright, genius,” I mock. “But fine, you win. Again.”
“Same time tomorrow, then?”
I smile. “No. I’m going home tomorrow.”
Cami’s smile mirrors my own. “Really? That’s really great, Blair.”
“I can’t wait to leave this place. No offense.”
“None taken,” she takes my hand in hers across the table. “You’ve come a long way. I’ll be honest, the day you came here, I wasn’t sure you’ll pull through the withdrawal symptoms. It was one of the worst sights I’ve seen.”
“I didn’t think I’d pull through, either. It felt like I was dying. Like I was on the brink of death, but I couldn’t die. Painful and neverending.”
It’s been two months since I got admitted to the rehabilitation center and these two months, by far, are worse than anything else. They’re far worse than my time spent in prison, and I was in there for years.
The first night was fucking terrible.
I was sweating, tossing and turning, and at one point, I was contemplating trying to run away, just to find some heroin. Cami was there with me, day after day, trying to distract me from the horror I was going through.
I lost weight again, and I could barely eat. Everything that I ended up eating, I’d throw up shortly. Cami says that’s not uncommon, but it’s still something that’s been terrible to experience. The memory of the amount of sweat my body produced makes me gag.
And the first week? It wrecked me. Mentally, and physically. All I did was cry, and in that deluded state of mind, begged for more heroin. Of course, no one gave it to me, and that’s when Cami decided enough was enough. She forced me to socialize with other patients, to do something productive.
That’s how we settled on chess.
It got my brain working, though still not enough to win against her, yet enough to keep my mind off drugs. If we weren’t playing chess, then she was giving me puzzles to solve. Some were definitely for kids, while others required me to truly think about them.
Even now, two months later, I’m scared I’ll see heroin again and relapse.
Cami says that’s a normal part of the healing journey, and that the fear is what will keep me from trying and using again. I just don’t want to hurt myself, or the people I truly care about.
Arlo’s been here, every single day, without fail.
However, I didn’t see him, not even once.
The state I was in the first while I was in here was not something I ever wanted Arlo to witness. So, I kept refusing to see him, and although he stopped asking, Cami says he’s here every single day, asking about me. And to deliver me flowers that I did receive.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Cami says, releasing the hold on my hand, “but I genuinely don’t want to see you again.”
I laugh. “Don’t worry. I have no intentions of returning here.”
“Good,” she smiles. “My day off is tomorrow, so I won’t be able to see you go, but I wish you all the best, Blair.”
“Thank you, it means a lot.”
“And if you want to see me, I play chess every Sunday in the park across the street.”
“Noted,” I grin. “I’ll practice, and the next time I see you, I’ll kick your ass.”
She winks. “I’m counting on it.”
Cami stands up, then walks out of the common area. After all, she has a lot of patients to tend to, and her shift is ending soon. With a deep sigh, I turn to look out the window, folding my arms in front of my chest.
My eyes close, and I soak in the warmth, as the sun that hits my face. Summer will be here soon, and I know it’ll be the best one yet. The only thing I’m truly upset about is that I’ve missed Aria’s graduation.
She’s not upset, and she keeps saying it’s not a big deal, but I wanted to be there. She’s the only one I’ve been seeing, and she did bring me her graduation photos to look at. She was absolutely beautiful, and seeing all four of them, smiling and being happy just warmed me on the inside.
With a sigh, I shake my head.
If Aria’s not upset, it’s okay. I know how much all of them wanted me to get better, and I’ll forever be grateful that no one is judging me. Looking back, I never should’ve given into the temptation of using heroin.
But, that’s what I thought I needed back then.
It’s what pushed me to the point of finally taking a step to deal with Simmons, and I’m afraid I wouldn’t have done it had I not been under the influence when it happened.
It was one terrible experience, and I’ll never touch a single drug again.
I am glad that it led me to killing Paul because now, as I’m watching the small pond outside of the facility, with a couple of ducks in the water, a small smile tugs on the corners of my lips.
It’s finally over.
All of it.
It’s truly over.
It’s finally time for me to live.