Luke has been great too. He wants to help me out, and honestly, I don’t find the idea suffocating. I like the idea of us being friends. I think I can even be a friend to him. He needs to get out more, I think. Do you remember Black Cherry? You know Leah? Well, I kind of messed that up for Luke. She thought he had feelings for me and wound up ending things between them. Maybe that will be my hobby when I break out of here. Do you think I can find Luke a mate?
He’d probably hate anyone I tried to set him up with. This might be fun. Anyway, Luke is springing me from this joint. I’m going to be going home in just a few days. Wish me luck.
Love always and forever,
Cara
Chapter Eight
Cara stepped into the Great Room, for her final group therapy session. She couldn’t believe how quickly the thirty days had gone by. When she first considered rehab, she thought these last thirty days would drag on and be the most horrible of her life. But the first days when she was isolated and going through detox, those days, were the worst. Those were days when she really wanted to give up on herself and succumb to her addiction. Yet, here she was thirty days clean, and while this chapter of her life was coming to a close, there were so many blank pages that stood in front of her, waiting for her to write her story.
As scared as she was, she was excited to have a clean slate. For the first time in her life she was going to live simply for herself. She even looked forward to repairing the relationships she may have broken along the way when she had lost herself. She took a cup of coffee from the buffet and turned around, her eyes roaming around the room memorizing the people who were once strangers. Rick Sutter, the group counselor stood beside her and she smiled up at him.
“How does it feel to be just about finished?” He asked her.
“I’m happy to be going home, scared, but still happy.” She answered honestly.
“Though the hard part will be staying clean and sober, I am confident you’ll be fine, Cara. You know we are only a phone call away if things become difficult and you need someone to talk to.” He said sincerely.
“Thank you.”
“Let’s get this session started and get you one more step closer to getting sprung out of here.” He winked at her and then made his way to the circle. Cara followed his lead and took a seat next to Collin. He looked over at her and she noticed the saddened expression he carried on his face.
“I heard you’re leaving tomorrow.” He spoke in a hushed voice.
“I am.” She cocked her head to the side and peered at the young man that had become her friend. “I’ll miss our ping pong games.”
“Cara, you suck at ping pong.” Collin said with a laugh.
“Hey! I’ve gotten better.” She said with a smile and he only rolled his eyes in response. The room around them became quiet and then Rick began their session.
“Welcome everyone. As always I’d like to welcome some new faces and introduce myself. I am Rick Sutter and I am one of the counselors here at Lakeview. This is a place to release your thoughts. You can share your story or choose just to listen to others, but know each and every one of us struggles and we pass no judgments. Ok, so with that being said, I would also like to take the time to congratulate Cara on completing her 12-Steps and the thirty day program.” He turned his attention to Cara and began to applaud her. The people in the circle joined him in commemorating Cara’s struggle and her accomplishments.
She rose to her feet and smiled at her peers. “Thank you.” She said over the applause and as it began to die down she looked over at Rick. “Would it be okay if I started us off today?”
His smiled widened and he nodded his head. What a change thirty days could make in a person. Gone was the Cara, who sat with her eyes trained on the pattern of the floor tiles, here was the Cara ready to face the world head on.
“My name is Cara and I am an addict.” She said and met the eyes of her peers as they welcomed her into the circle, encouraging her to share her story. “I was just a young girl when my mom passed away. I don’t think my dad had any clue how to raise a daughter and I don’t think he cared to figure it out. . Part of me felt that he had wished I had died along with my mother. When I was fifteen years old my father had beaten me so bad I ran away. That one time was different from all the others. There wasn’t just one bruise to cover or one cut to disinfect, there were many. I ran to my best friend, Jake. I can remember him letting me into his family home from the back door. I was wearing a baseball cap so that he couldn’t see my face and the marks my father had left behind. He didn’t ask me questions that night. He just took my hand and took me to his room where he cleaned my cuts. He held me and told me he’d make it okay.