Suicide Note Chapter two The group reluctantly paired up with whom they first made eye contact with. Douche boy made eye contact with me. He walked over to me and sat down. Neither if us said anything, we just looked at each other. His brown hair sweeped down his head. His eyes could be compared to emeralds. He looked down again and smirked. "I'm here because my parents sent me here." 'No way! I can here cuz I felt like it!' I felt like saying. Instead, I rolled my eyes and silently agreed. He tapped his foot against the ground and looked uncomfortable. "You...umm...you okay?" I asked him who looked distracted. "How are we doing over here?" Phil enthused as he came over. "Are we not strangers anymore?" I said nothing. "I'm Wesley," the brown-haired boy said. "Aria," I said back. "Good progress!" Phil said, and he moved onto another group. I bit my nail, why the hell would I tell anyone other than the psychiatrist why I was here? The meeting ended, and we were sent to our rooms to unpack and "destress" as they called it. My room I'd be staying in for the next two months consisted of two twin beds, a dresser, and a closet. Pretty damn plain if you asked me. A skinny girl sat on the neighboring bed. The brunette in support group, the anorexic. "I'm Amanda." "Aria," I responded. "I don't eat," she said. I nodded and almost said, 'i xan see that,' but decided not to make enemies with my roommate. We climbed into our beds and eventually fell asleep. The next morning we were woken up at 70 and called down to breakfast. I was never much of a breakfast eater, but I reluctantly took a bagel and sat down my myself. I bit into the bagel and looked up. Wesley. "What?" I asked as he stared at me. "Nothing." He sat down next to me. "So Aria, tell me something about yourself. Enlighten me," he smiled. I scrunched up my face as if to ask 'are you serious?' but I gave in. "I...umm... I like to paint," I said. "Hmm, I was never much if a painter, but I did like Monet's work. All in secret, of course, football players can't be caught admiring works of art," he winked at me, and got up and walked away. I finished eating, and as a group we met in front of the building, equipped to complete service. "I would like you, as partners or groups, to collect as much trash around the building as possible. And go!" Phil announced. I could barely take a breath before Wesley was at my side. "I chose my partner," he grinned. The hell was his problem? Why did he keep following me? I opened up my trash bag and began filling it with the litterings people left behind. "I heard that the team who picks up the most trash wins some sort of prize," he smiled. "We gotta go as fast as we can." I sighed and continued picking up cigarette buds and plastic bottles. "Aria, is that the best you can do? Strive for excellence!" He said, imitating Phil's squeaky voice. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. "Why do you keep following me?" I questioned him. "I don't know, you seem...interesting, different." I nodded and continued around the school. "You know, it's a full#moontonight, I'm sneaking out to enjoy it. You should come." Please like and comment! Chapter 3 soon!

Chapter 1 Suicide Note "Is Aria Williams here?" Phil, the leader of support group called to the group. I stared up at him with eyes full of hate. "Here," I muttered. "Aria?" He called again. "I'm here!" "Good! To start our first day together, I want to urge to each and every one of you that you are all here for a reason, and that you are all alike." Damn, he's just like the rest. And I had hope for this one to not be as mindless as the rest. I have learned to stay clear of the pathetic support leaders who start off their schpeil as he did. "Now, I want you to go back to the time and place that caused us to join paths, and familiarize yourself with that scene," Phil stated, "close your eyes." My mind flashed back to my note. My suicide note. Frickin thing started this all. Damn. I wasn't looking for this, really. I didn't want some glorious death where my Facebook would flood with notifications, or a funerL where thousands came to mourn, I just wanted to be done. I knew my parents would miss me, I guess, but I honestly felt as if I was doing them a favor. I'd wasted countless dollars on medical expenses, I just didn't feel like it was worth it anymore. I scribbled a note saying "bye I love you (blah blah)" and left it in the kitchen. I wanted it to be painless, so I grabbed a bottle of Advil, and stuffed as many into my mouth as I could swallow, and I did. Next thing I remembered was being airlifted to the hospital with my mother next to me. She found the note, and called 911 to save me. "Aria, we need to know what you took. ARIA!" The EMT screamed at me. I felt dazed during it, as if I were high or something. My heart throbbed with each heartbeat. "My baby!" My mom shrieked and cried over me. "I'll give you another minute to replay your scene," Phil said, interrupting my thought. Can't do that now. You broke my thought. I took this time to familiarize myself with the surroundings. I'd be spending my freakin whole summer here, and although I was in Florida, I didn't want to be here. I felt like an outsider amongst the many blondes and brunettes in the room-my hair nearly black, with a blue streak I had dyed myself to match my blue eyes. I could easily tell why each person was sent here. Blondy to my left:anorexia. Brunette to my right: pot addict. Red head across from me: alcohol dependency. Boy with glasses:anxiety disorder. One boy puzzled me, with his healthy looking skin and body, he looked normal, even great. His muscles shown through his shirt, and he looked down at his feet, continuing to imagine his scene. Nope, he was texting. Common case of douche, I decided would be his diagnosis. "Now that your scene is fresh in your mind, I want to pick a partner and share with them your story. And go!" Hope you like it! Chapter 2 will come soon.