A troubled girl sat in her bed in the fourth floor of a hosptial. The fourth floor was for residential stay and the girl was heading out to a placement due to her suicide and self harming habbits. Naomi Styles sat there staring at her pale, but scared arms. A deep sigh escaped her throat and mouth. "Ms. Styles, your ride is here. You need to get your stuff," a nurse announced. Naomi sighed once again as she stood up. She grabbed her two duffle bags clothes, shoes, and books. When she left her room, she saw the other residents staring at her in sympathetic ways. Placement was not something to be happy to be going too, but at the moment she didn't want to stay in the hospital any longer. Naomi stretched a bit unmoved at the smiling thirty year old woman. She rolled her eyes and was escorted out to a SUV. Her bags were loaded into the trunk and she was ushered into the passenger seat with a hild safety lock on the door, so she couldn't jump out to escape or kill herself. But once in the car she began to doze, only to have nightmares once more. They were a nightly ritual for her. Never had she had a positive dream. They were about demons killing her and tearing her apart, making her wake up in terrible sweats or blood curding sscreams. But in the car she couldn't seem to wake. And it was frightening her, but she was shakened awake. Naomi cold almost hug the thrity year old woman for the wakening. But she emotions and mind told her it wasn't cool or even the best thing to do. Naomi looked around to see several trailors, called cottages, and looked out the window, residents there staring at her with mean looks. Naomi took in the many trees and barely any cars very bitterly. This would only be a nightmare in the real life. A deep moan escaped her throat. The woman pulled up to a cottage and opened the door and led Naomi to the door and used a key to into the locked faciality. "You are really going to love it here. Yes, it may be locked, but you get chances to leave campus and play outside and at the gym," the woman grinned. "Does it look like I care?" Naomi asked with a sour look on her face. Her brown curly hair framed her face and the blue eyes hidden beneath her silver framed glasses. "Well here's where you live. The staff will escort you to a room and let you meet your roommate. I'm sure you will love it. Oh look here's Simmon. He's your day Team Leader or TL as we all say. Simmon, this is our new addition. Naomi Styles," woman beamed. "Ms. Styles it is very nice to meet you. Do you have a nickname you want to be called by?" Simmon smiled. "Just Naomi," she replied. Simmon look ed about twenty-nine with short brown hair and brown eyes. He hada bit of a gut, but she could tell he liked to exercise. His eyes held a certian amount of energy in them. She shifted as her bags were handed to her and the woman left. Naomi looked around. Two halls, a dining area, a small kitchen, a day room and an office. "Well come this way, but leave your bags on the couch," Simmon said motioning to a couch on a wall of the day room. She wondered why she said that one instead of the other two or the chairs. She gave up thoguht as she placed the bags on the couch and followed Simmon to a room down the hall. The room was tiny and almost un bearable. By the way the roomwas kept, she could tell her new roommate would be very annoying, considering the Naomi was a clean freak. Her eyes scampered over the mounds of crap all over the room. The top bunk and one desk and dresser was left untouched, but the floor was a mess. She was utterly discussed. The look on her face must have said how she felt for Simmon sighed. "Well this won't be an easy place to stay if you are OCD. Many of our residents are very messy. But you'll get over it. Well you settle in and take in your room, I'll go get Jackie, yoru new therapist, and see if she's ready to see you," Simmon walked out of the terrifing room. "What have I've gotten myself into?" she groaned to herself. She felt herself become annoyed witht he place already. Her eyes scanned the room once more and leaned on her small wooden desk. Voices could be heard coming closer to her. This wasn't a good sign. "Ms. Styles, I'm Jackie, your new therapist," a tall red head woman greeted. She was rather tan and had hazel eyes with specks of what seemed liked gold in them. "Ello," she replied with a slight nodded. "Well let me take you back to my office. We will talk about your treatment plan, about you, and the rules along with expectations that will need to be followed," Jackie smiled. "Let's not and say we did," she mumbled as she stepped up to the therapist. "What was that?" Jackie said leading her down the opposite hallways. The hall that was considered the boys hall. It was a co-ed cottages. Next to the boy's bathroom was a door leading into the back of the cottage where a nurse's office, Jaskie's office, and a staff bathroom was. Jackie's office was a bit of a mess with a crowded desk and papers all over a table and piles of stuff on the floor. It smelt of apples and the two windows seemed to only make the pale blue room brighter with the over head light. Naomi was motioned to a tan couch where she was to sit while Jackie sat in an office chair. A notepad and notecards came out of a drawer. Then from a filing drawer a stack of papers came into view. The papers where handed to Naomi. "Those are the rules and information about the program. This place is confidential. So you don't have to say why you are here to anyone, but me and word won't get out. But you also have to keep everything you are told confidential unless it involves your treatment. But that is just a given. You have a lot you must work on. Steps, points at the end of the week, which is Wednesday, will determine if you go on home passes, visits, or outings. You need a step seven or higher and be on a phase two to be able to do these things," Jackie offered a small smile. |