Her hands quivered a bit as she sat in group curled into herself a bit the too skinny young woman picked at the edge of her leather jacket as her wide eyes peered out across her fellow addicts. She missed Ben, she missed the parties, she missed swallowing whatever pill that she was handed, seeing sounds and hearing colors. She was paranoid and twitchy as people spoke about how they were coping, her fingers itched to hold a cigarette to her lips but they could only sleep out in the yard and she was stuck in group for the time being. She stood out on the street, passing for a chic bag lady. But in here? The men's biker jacket, loose grey sweater, scarf circling her throat and the tutu were fairly normal. A bit odd but nothing major. Squirming a bit she picked at a scab on her knee needing something to do with her hands. She wanted to cry and run and get out. She couldn't remember most of these people's names. They were faceless creatures that only half existed.
"Katherine, what about you?" Jolting violently, nearly tipping straight out of her chair. Like a frightened rabbit her mind reeled violently back to the rave that she was busted at, bag of Louis Vuitton MDMA in her purse. The tiny hot pink pills landed here. She gazed distantly only to get a sharp throat cleared in her direction by a young woman who looked half dressed, Holly, maybe, or maybe Holland. Holiday? No matter. "What about me?" She squeaked out softly timid and petrified, anxiety clutching at her lungs making it impossible to breathe correctly. "How did you end up here, Katherine?" The group leader questioned, a pleasant looking woman, Angel, Angela, Angelica, something maybe..."I was charged with...p-possession with the intent to sell," Stammering trying to remember words that failed her. It was chilly in the room, but it was winter in upstate New York, tugging her leather jacket a bit closer the addict squirmed a bit, nervously.
