Her eyes held pain and hurt, everyone knew that.
His mind, it was lost. Everyone noticed it.
Who says opposites always have to attract?
"I can't believe you're making me go to this fucking thing!" I curse loudly towards my mother.
"Adrianna, watch your tone with me. You've asked for this yourself, I told you that if I were to find you doing drugs again that this would be your punishment. You need help." She places a hand on her hip, and I roll my eyes.
"People do drugs all of the time, you don't see their parents sending them to a support group for teenagers."
"Yeah, well when you're not doing drugs, you're either harming yourself or staying locked up in that room of yours. I'm sick and tired of it! Being a single mom is tough, i'd expect some help from you. But all I receive is pure laziness."
Did she really have to mention harming myself? She says it like it's nothing. Ever since we've moved here in Massachusetts, i've been nothing but left to fend for myself. She's always on my back.
"Let's go, you're going to be late." She walks out with her heels clicking the floor.
The car ride is awkwardly silent, as I continue to watch the grey sky pass by through the car window. I'm not crazy. I don't need some damn people telling me what and what not to do with my life. It's ridiculous.
"I want you to know that i'm doing this for the best." My mom breaks through my thoughts.
"This isn't going to change absolutely anything. I hope you know that."
"It will, you just don't know it now. You'll be thanking me when this is all set and over."
I let out a deep breath. I just want this all to be over with already.
"I'm Zach, I will of course be your counselor through all of the things you guys have been going through and what problems you are trying to face. Whether it's addiction, mental illness, phobia, anything you can name. You're all safe and should feel more than comfortable expressing your feelings here with everyone."
Zach seems alright, I guess. He's really loud though, and almost fits the perfect look for a poetry writer. Dark facial hair runs down the sides of his face, and his eyes are a bright blue.
Looking around at the people sitting into a formed circle, along with me, I can tell I don't belong here. There's a girl with too much black eyeshadow on, a boy holding his knees to his chest, another guy twisting his hair too fast, and then there's me. Yeah, I have a few cuts on my wrists but that doesn't make me psychopathic.
It's been almost an hour now, and all we've done is introduce ourselves. I'm ready to pass out in my chair, until the door swings open catching my attention.
A dark haired boy, wearing black ripped jeans, a white t-shirt, and black boots walks in. Everyone turns their attention towards him, as he takes a seat down on one of the chairs.
"Ah, you must be Zayn." Zach folds his hands together, speaking to the boy.
He just nods his head.
"And you're late, because?.."
"Because I am." The mysterious boy named Zayn says harshly.
He looks like one of the bad boys that would go being the leader of a 90's gang.
"I see. Introduce yourself." The counselor sits back in his seat.
"I'm Zayn and I don't want to fucking be here. That good enough?" He smirks, his eyes leading to mines.
I feel my throat itch, and I swallow hard.
"Well, looks like that's all the time we have for today.. I'll see you all again next group time."
People go running out of the room, me being one.
"Hey." I feel a hand grab onto my arm.
I turn around, my eyes to meet with golden brown ones.
"You don't belong here, I can tell you don't.." Zayn says softly.
"Neither do I." He quickly adds, whispering.
And after that, he's gone.