Welcome!

[Tyson James]

Tyson didn’t like being outside. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t some emo kid who hated the sun. He just hated having nothing to do outside. He was terrible at sports (to say the least) and sitting around in the heat picking at the grass wasn’t something he enjoyed doing with his spare time. So that’s why he could generally be found sitting in the rec room doing whatever caught his attention. And right now that was the TV. All he wanted was to crash on the couch, and turn it on to whatever. For one reason or another the boy was tired. It wasn’t like he had been doing anything, but all he wanted right now was to do nothing.

He shuffled through the stack of movies looking for something worth watching. He wasn’t really in the mood for anything in particular, just something to take his mind off of everything. Something to take his mind off the fact that he had snapped three days ago, found something to hurt himself with and used it. Since he had come to the camp, it had happened twice. This being the third time. He had been walking around with a sweater on, no matter how hot it was getting, to cover himself up. It wasn’t like he enjoyed being here, and being the way he was, and to him, hiding his problems was a hell of a lot easier then confronting them.

Tyson sighed to himself, grabbing The Corps Bride (a movie he used to love, but hadn’t seen in a while) and put it in. He flopped down on the couch and let the movie play. He wasn’t paying too much attention to it, and laid down on one side of the couch. He was tired, and he wasn’t going to fight it. The thing was, when he started to drift off, it got harder for him to tell the difference between fact and fiction. What his mind had made up, and what was really going on around him. Right now though, he didn’t care. If he was going to live in the world that was in his mind, or the one that was around him, it didn’t affect him if he was half asleep.

That’s not to say that he wasn’t aware of what was going on around him. A few people sitting around, just talking. Some others playing board games or pool, or whatever else the recreation room had to offer. He ran a hand across his face and through his black and currently blond hair. There was something he had some freedom over, the way he looked. As long as he had that, he’d be ok.

[Autumn Fenwick]

Autumn needed inspiration for her writing, and it seemed that outside didn’t seem to have enough of it - at least, to her. She took a seat at a empty wooden table on the far edge of the recreation room. She needed to study the movements of everyone in here for her story; a story based on her experiences here at Winwood. Whenever Autumn was bored, she always decided to write something. Whether it be poetry, a novel, or something else was always a mystery to Fall before she even began. In this case, it wasn’t.

Winwood Rehabilitation had done something to her, something the others rehab centers didn‘t. Even though she had been there for only a couple of weeks, she felt happier, calmer, and more forward about herself - well, at least she had begun to finally start conversations. She barely talked to her counselors, but she supposed that the fresh, crisp, summer air left all the trails of pollution from Florida behind. Was it the people, the environment, or was it just the fact that Autumn was finally beginning to forget everything she had gone through?

She doubted it. No matter what, Fall could never forget how her parents favored her older sister. They might’ve found her to be a lot smarter by KNOWLEDGE, but Autumn always decided that knowledge wouldn’t get you as far as ‘quick-wittedness’ would. Her sister only had knowledge - things she learned from a long time ago. Things she learned that Autumn’s parents never had the time to teach her. What was it about Autumn they hated so much? If Ickle Iz were to fall into depression, her parent’s would insist on the most professional therapists in the world rather than REHAB.

John probably wouldn’t have left if Isabelle were to stay shut up in her room for about ten months. Christina probably wouldn’t have dared to think of sending her Iz to some CAMP, where she could pick up West Nile from mosquitoes. And they always dared to wonder why she stopped talking to them! Tch!

Fenwick growled, dropping her pen onto the wooden floor of the recreation room. “I hate this,” she muttered, standing up, leaving her pen and notebook paper on the table to go find someone to talk to.

She noticed Tyson, and walked over. She never really talked to her, but she knew what he showed; or, rather, she knew what he was like in front of people. “Corpse, hn? I remember that.” She didn’t mean to say a word, it’s like it just slipped from her mouth. Placing her pale hand over her mouth, she apologized for interrupting his movie. “I’m sorry. Uh. Mind if I join you?”

The girl was shocked at herself for being so forward. This was the second time this week she had talked to someone without them having to talk first.

[Chloe Connelly]

Chloe was and is, pregnant, and after the shock had wore off....believe me, it took a long time; the rest of the day after talking with Russell had been spent in the girl's dormitory, crying herself to sleep....she needed something to do. Outside was just too hot, and she'd been warned not to take too many long walks. She walked down to the recreation room, then, hands unconsciously upon her stomach. There was something living inside her, another human being. And something about that gave her a hidden spark of joy underneath all of the sadness and confusion perturbing the dark crevices of thoughts.

She entered the room, and immediately put her hands at her sides, not wanting anyone to stare at her, though it always felt like people were staring at her, and no matter how many times she may have felt people staring at her, she still was not used to it. She glanced around the room....pool? no, never played that before, Monopoly? no; everyone already had a monopoly on her...then she spotted the t.v., and Autumn standing, talking to someone. Autumn. She had only talked to her once, before going to the nurse. And she felt...good about her. So, she walked over, and sat a little more carefully down on a soft huge comfy chair next to the couch Tyson was on. "Hey Autumn, Tyson. What're you mates up to?" Her Irish accent sounded thickly with each accent. "Can I join yas?" She certainly hoped she could...she didn't feel like moving, though if they wanted her out, being the pushover that she was, she certainly would go.