Page 17 of Bleed for Me

The weight of everything sat heavily on my chest once I was left alone with my thoughts again. Maybe this happened for a reason. Maybe she was in a better place now. That was the only hope I had to cling onto at the moment, so ithadto be true.

Images of her lifeless body hitting the ground with a deafening thud invaded my headspace. Followed by Dr. Blake’s words: Dissociative disorder, he’d said.

He’s wrong.

He just wants to see you fail. You did what you had to. It wasn’t your fault.

Confusion whirled around my brain, my thoughts making less and less sense. Those thoughts couldn’t have beenmine, right? Unease trickled through me, and I quickly shook off the unwanted feelings. This transition has been extremely difficult;it was normal for people to act out of character given certain circumstances.

Reaching for the tray of food at the end of my bed, I tugged it onto my lap and glanced down at it. Five cinnamon sticks were laid out in a row with a syrup packet sitting in the right-hand corner of the plate. A cup of apple sauce sat on the opposite side. In my cup appeared to be plain, white milk. The food here reminded me a lot of the food they offered at my college.

After eating, Gloria walked me to group. A pit formed in the depths of my stomach as nervous energy vibrated through me. It was still difficult for me to wrap my head around being a patient here. I always thought I’d be the one doing the counseling. Upon entering the classroom, I realized that the larger tables that had been here before were folded up and placed against the wall. Instead, there were several circular tables littering the area with five chairs positioned around each one.

Folded up pieces of paper occupied each spot, indicating that they were most likely name tags. Almost everyone was already seated by the time I walked into the room, so it made navigating my way through the area much easier. When I finally spotted my name, anxiety rippled through my veins like a current.

At my table was: Cheyanne, Jordan, Alina, and Seven. My heart thumped wildly as I slid into the space between Alina and Jordan, leaving Seven seated directly across from me. They were much more attractive up close, and it had my heart doing stupid things—like palpitating for example.

As soon as the remainder of people took their seats, Mrs. Octavia made her way to the front of the room.

“Today we will be doing a fun activity where we get to know each other on a more personal level,” she began. “Miss Gloria is going to pass out a worksheet to each one of you, and you’re going to go around the table, asking each other questions. Remember, failure to comply will earn you a strike. Too manystrikes will get you an appointment with Dr. Theodore.” She shot a pointed look at no one in particular before she motioned for Gloria.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about prying into other people’s minds. Hopefully the questions weren’t too personal. Jordan had psychosis and delusion disorder for crying out loud. Anything could set him off depending on how bad he was and if he was taking the right medications. Cheyanne was schizophrenic, which meant that she had a form of psychosis herself, and that came with delusions as well.

Once all the papers were passed out, we were given a pencil to write with. I didn’t miss the fact that the pencil tips were extremely dull from too much use. I could see why they didn’t want to sharpen them.

My eyes skimmed over the page, and I took in the questions I’d have to ask my peers—the questions I’d also have to answer.

A deep, gravelly voice sounded from my right. “Are you just going to stare at it all day, or are we going to get this over with?” Jordan asked me. Embarrassment shot through my chest and my face heated. I must have missed something Mrs. Octavia had said. Looking around the room, I realized everyone had already started, voices filling the air as they worked.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “Did you want to ask first, or…” I trailed off, hoping he wasn’t incompetent enough to fill in the blank.

He rolled his eyes but went anyways. “What’s your first and last name?”

“Rosalie Swanson. Yours?”

He jotted down my name on the paper before looking at me again, his greenish, blue eyes making my breath catch as they peered into my own. “Jordan Hayes.” Stubble coated the bottom of his jaw, traveling up the sides of his face and getting lost in his dark blonde hair. He was stunning. Forcing my gaze away, I wrote down his name. “When’s your birthday?”

“May third.”

After he wrote it down, I glanced back at the piece of paper. His birthday was on Valentine’s Day, so that was pretty easy to remember. The first few questions were simple ones with no depth to them. I had a feeling that was intentional; a way of breaking the ice.

“Disorders?” he questioned.

The last time I’d been asked this, I didn’t have any. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if I’d been officially diagnosed, but it still counted. “Dissociative Disorder.” His eyebrows rose slightly, but he didn’t comment on it and jotted it down.

I didn’t need to ask him that question, so I wrote what I knew about his disorders down as well.

When he looked at me expectantly, I just shrugged. “I already know what yours are.”

The deeper the questions got, the less he wanted to tell me. Pulling answers out of him was like pulling teeth. It was annoying, but also understandable. Once I managed to get all the answers, I turned to Alina. She was much easier to talk to, willing to tell me just about anything pertaining to herself. She even went off script and started rambling about her life before this, not showing a single ounce of remorse for any of the things she’d done in her past. I learned that she liked shopping, binging reality TV shows, dancing, and clubbing. While her little sister might have been her first victim when it came to murdering someone before being sent here, she hadn’t been heronlyvictim. Alina liked to bully others which she was more than willing to share with me, she’d just worded it differently. By the end of my conversation with her, I felt drained.

When it was time for me to pair up with Seven, nervous energy crawled down my spine. His icy blue eyes were set in a glare, his gaze trailing over me with obvious dislike.

Clearing my throat, I rambled off the first question. He stared at me for a long moment before bothering to reply, his voice clipped. If I’d thought Jordan had been hard to navigate when it came to this stupid exercise, that was nothing compared to Seven. His lips had that angel’s-bow shape and I was involuntarily drawn to them every time he spoke.

“Relationship status?” he pressed.

My forehead creased as I glanced down at the paper in confusion. “Uh, that question isn’t on here.”

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