Sam willingly agreed to be sent to treatment by his father, his mother helping out with the fees. He wasn't happy about it at all and made that abundantly clear on the drive to the treatment center... The only things he had was his pillow, months worth of clothes packed into a suitcase and his mp3 player. He had heard all kinds of rumors of these places and was very nervous behind the snaps and rude remarks.

Once they got there and got him admitted fully, took his picture, took out his piercings, took his sharp objects, checked him for scars, wrote down every drug, cut, attempt, detail about him he felt drained and it had only been nine in the morning. Eventually he was brought out to the common room, he stood there awkwardly, scanning the room.

"You know you can sit down, right?" He heard a voice from the couch, slightly annoyed he nodded and sat down at the end of the couch.

"Thanks." he grumbled, eyeing the girl who said that before looking down to his hands, still pissed.