"Damn," Levi said, following Claire's gaze to the girl sitting a ways away from them. "You know her?" She asked, eyebrows raised. Only being a guest, for two days at that, she didn't know many people - Levi tended to rub most people the wrong way, scaring most away. "Sie schaut etwas gequält," Levi muttered without thinking then hastily translated - "She looks pretty upset,"

Cal had raised a fist, as if about to hit Erika right in the nose. However right before she was about to strike she reminded herself about the rules. The anger on her face slowly was replaced with a look that was a mixture of realization and slight fear. She listened to Erika, her eyes unblinking, as she told Cal about how much power she held over her. During this she didn't release Erika's collar, her fist still raised in a way that showed that she could punch at any time if she wanted to.

That was the question. Did she want to?

If she was to punch Erika that would be the end. Cal would be kicked out. She knew Erika would play the 'poor helpless victim type' and doubted that anyone would listen to Cal's side of the story. That would be the end of it. On second thought, the street wasn't all that bad, she could mooch off friends for a bit. But did she really want to be a mooch? Slowly, Cal's fingers released Erika's collar. Eventually Cal let go of Erika. "What a fucking coward. Fighting dirty. Get me all angry just to show how smart you are." Cal started walking away from her lunch table, ready to go back to her guest room. "I hope your shitty personality comes to bite you in the ass." Cal allowed herself to take a deep breath. Erika was just a bully. Cal hated bullies.

"Safe haven my ass." Cal thought as she walked walked out of the dining area, fists still clenched in her pockets. Just to be safe Cal would delete her text messages when she returned to her room.

After lunch, and his first "therapy meeting" with his case worker, Ben headed back to his room. The talk with his case worker was a disaster, as Ben wasn't ready to talk about his nightmare of a life yet. Soon, he told himself, I'll get there when I am ready. On his way back to his room, he heard an acoustic guitar playing from one of the rooms. It only took him a second for him to recognize it as Iron Maiden. He found the room in question and peeked inside.

It was that guy from breakfast, Alistair, strumming on a guitar. He was actually pretty good. Ben knocked on the door (even though it was open) and said ""Woe to you, Oh Earth and Sea, for the Devil sends the beast with wrath, because he knows the time is short." Ben always a fan of the classics.

Hope sobbed once more as she rounded the corner, stopping dead in her tracks as her eyes laid upon Clair. She clammed up and stopped her sobs, tears streaming down her face silently. She couldn't let Clair see her like this. With fists clenched, she took a seat on the bed she was led to, taking deep breaths. "I'd like to see my case worker, please. Mr. Rhodes." She said this in a quiet tone. The nurse was walking away to go and make the page, when Hope spoke up again, adding bitterly, "I'd also like to know how much effort Open Roads is willing to spare for a lost cause."
Hope looked down at her bruised wrists pulling her sleeves over her hands. She closed her eyes and felt tears fall from her lashes. She calso felt the stare of Clair and the one she had been talking to when Hope had walked in. She felt the sting embarrassment and failure. Hadn't she tried to be a good role model for Clair despite her own problems? How had she been so pathetic as to walk through these halls crying like a child? Hope rubbed her face with one of her sleeves.

Clinic (Physical Health) – Ground Floor, Residential Building
Lunch Time – Clair “Left-Feet” Blues

“Sie schaut etwas gequält," Levi muttered without thinking then hastily translated - "She looks pretty upset.”

“She does, doesn’t she?” Clair was still looking at Hope when she replied. She paused a bit longer before continuing. “Her name’s Hope. She buddied me during the first week I got here. As you can see,” She lifted one of her crutches, “I don’t get around much and I was way worse when I first arrived. She volunteered to, you know, buddy me until I was on my foot. It was just a short time but I got to know her. She became a sort of older sister, not that I would know how that feels since I’m an only child but I’m quite found of her. We talked from time to time but since we’re in different groups, I don’t get to talk to her much.”

A nurse approached Clair saying that her insulin shot is ready. Before being guided away, she asked the nursed why Hope was upset. The nurse simply shrugged. They don’t know yet but they’re worried since Hope rarely was frantic. Clair felt like she should ask or say something to Hope but the nurse was already guiding her to an available bed for her shot. After saying her goodbyes to Levi, she followed the nurse. Getting an inulin shot wasn’t much different from any other types of shots. Somebody just sticks you with an injection, push the pin and viola. Maybe the only hassle about it is that she needs to have it daily and that it’s a bloody expensive disease. Wake up, injection, eat, class, injection, eat, class, play, therapy, injection, eat, play, sleep and again. Clair thought of her routine.

While being administered her usual dose, she noticed Mr. Harris Thomson, her case worker, pass the hallway and to the new girl. Coool, Levi and I will have the case worker! The thought brought a smile to her face but then Dr. Georgiana Wilson passed the same hallway and to Hope. “Ugh... I never knew you can feel happy and worried at the same time.” Clair muttered to herself.

---

Library – Welcome Building
Lunch Time – Andrew Rhodes

Open Roads’ Therapists, Facilitators and Case Workers normally take their lunch in the library. If not for the bonding, it allows to them to discuss the kids under their care. They were still trying to divide the work load among themselves and the needs the kids will require, such as their curriculum and therapy. But that aside, the hottest topic was Erika Sutherland, nearly a year with little to no signs of improvement. Taking away her laptop has yet to show signs of grounding her. Erika wasn’t an isolated case. Other residents have shown slow progress before but what makes Erika different from them is that she was 18 years old. Open Roads’ would like to keep their doors open for her but they don’t have the tools to deal with adults and would only hold her progress, if there was any, back.

Andrew Rhodes listened to the therapist assigned to Erika, Jonathan Harper. “I tried one-on-one, group and a combination of both for her to reassess her values but she won’t take suggestions from me or anyone she doesn’t deem the authority on the subject which is heavily based on the person’s success. I stress success because to her, we’re just a bunch of losers helping losers. I already told you this Rhodes, the only way I can think of her getting on the right track is by breaking her routine, force her into chaos. Unlike most kids here in Open Roads, Erika has a structured mind. She’ll seek to order the chaos she’s thrown into and build something out of it. We just have to make sure that the chaos we throw her in readjust her values and goals. Taking away her laptop is the first step, disallowing her to pursue the goal she has now. She’ll be force to find a new one ‘cause that’s how her mind works. She has to achieve something and that’s when we’ll intercept her and guide her towards a less destructive path. But she has to come to this to her own conclusion since she won’t take it from any of us.”

The senior case worker was about to ask Mr. Crowmarty regarding Erika but was interrupted by Sarah, one of the three secretaries employed in the shelter. “Mr. Rhodes, there was an incident in the dining hall. Two girls were going at each other’s throats but broke off before anything serious happened.”

“Never a dull moment.” Andrew sighed, “Go on, who were involve?”

“A new resident I believe, a girl named Callie Evans.” Andrew looked at Howard. He motioned to let her slide.

“She has only been a week with us and besides, I haven’t gotten to talk to her one on one yet.” Howard explained. Andrew nodded at Sarah to go on. Everybody was pretty much surprise when they heard the next name, Erika. Andrew shook her head and told Harper that she won’t be attending therapy tonight since he wanted to talk to her.

“Tell Security to let them cool off in their rooms until then and put one on standby at the lobby. I wouldn’t like the kids getting ideas. Erika isn’t too popular among the others.” Andrew told the secretary. Howard also asked the secretary to schedule a one on one with Callie in the evening. The bell ringed, signaling the end of lunch break. The residents headed towards their classes and the staffs went back to work.

---

The assembly had brought a bit of ease to Isabella, her leg pulled up to her chest as she listened. These people seemed like they knew what they were doing, and that brought her comfort, security, and stability. The three things she needed most. After the assembly she moved right into a session with her case worker. Samantha Geer. Right off the bat, Isa could tell that Ms. Geer was a kind woman, who took a lot of time for her cases.

"Good afternoon Isabella." Samantha stated, looking through the girl's files they had received. Everything had seemed to be in order, not too much trouble in her past. Isa untied the bandanna that was around her head and retied it to be a bit tighter against her scalp. "Sorry." she stated, hurrying the process before placing her hands in her lap. "No need to be sorry my dear, you don't need to be tense with me, I'm here to help." Isa gave a weak smile as she adjusted in the chair. She brought her legs underneath her as she crossed them. Her elbows rested on her knees as she looked around the the woman's office. "I like your decorations" Isa commented, quite fond of the painting in the back. Samatha turned in her chair to look at what her client was looking at. "I don't have much connection to the painting." she admitted, "But I do like it as well. Do you like art Isabella?" Isa grinned, "I love art. I loved studying art too! I had so many books at home about the history of art, and different techniques and-"[/i] the girl gleamed, rambling on. Samantha nodded taking notes as the two spoke.

Their conversations were light for the most part. Samantha dug a bit, and asked some string pulling questions and Isabella to the best of her abilities tried to answer them. Isabella didn't want to talk about the various homes she had, the various men her mother had left her with. Some were nice, some weren't so nice.

Samuel

"Samuel had been very nice to my mother and I. He had a very nice bungalow style house in the Midwest on a very large farmland. He had various animals, and lots of trees. I think it was his family's orchard, but I wasn't quite sure." Isabella started, given a piece of paper by request to draw out the layout, she continued, "This was my room, in the basement here. It was pretty awesome to have my own place for once. Almost like living in my own apartment." she exclaimed, drawing the surroundings of the location. "My mom was working at the hospital in town a few hours away. I'm not sure how the two met. Could have been online. I suppose." she continued doodling. "We didn't last there very long though." her drawing became heavier, darker as she drew what appeared to be a man's figure. "Mom had taken a double shift at the hospital that night, so it was just Sam and I alone in the house. It was my second week at a new school and I had been plagued with lots of homework. Sam made me dinner when it came time for it, we sat at the kitchen table and ate in silence as he stared at me. His eyes were piercing right through me.

The broken dishes, the chair, and my clothes were in a pile next to me.

I was sure if I had screamed, he would have killed me right there between his palms. No one close enough in miles to hear me. When it was over I ran to my room and locked the door and cried until I threw up. Mom and I left that night. She didn't believe me at first, but the marks across my body said otherwise. We traveled to Texas after that, where she met Oliver. He didn't touch me as much." Isabella cried, her last words almost incomprehensible, her head dipping into her palms, sobbing. The paper had deep dark lines of hate etched into them across the face of the man she drew.

Their session wrapped up as Samantha and Isabella headed their different ways. They would be meeting again soon, and Isabella said she thought the session did her some good. They talked about group sessions later on and Isabella agreed, she would probably attend those as well. It was helpful, and she thanked Samantha multiple times.

For now, she needed to get away from everyone and everything and do something creative. Heading to her room she grabbed the red nail polish from her desk drawer and headed towards outside, where she could paint her nails in some peace and quiet before having to go into the group sessions. She did not each lunch, and had no plans on eating dinner that day.

Anthony sat in the courtyard making a list of things he needed to do. He hadn't brought much with him, only essentials and a lone ball. Getting a phone topped the list followed by finding the local public court. Having trouble thinking of something else to place on the list he began clicking his pen repeatedly. I can't be this simple he though as he soul searched for his desires. “Ahhh I got it,” he murmured to himself while finishing off the list, at least for now, with a final goal: Find local beef jerky source. Anthony tried to make the best of his situation but he couldn't shake that feeling, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. A brief careless moment would do wonders, but Anthony's uncanny ability to remain reserved prevented such things. A blessing to some but indeed a curse, it was entirely possible that a new setting could bring out a new Anthony. "I'll believe it when I see it," said everyone who was ever close to Anthony, if they could.

Mikhail Botvinnik, CPC Resident


Left Josh Burrow, Right Samuel Kirk

"Hey there hot stuff, wanna go for a ride?" And as Jessica said these words to the stranger showing his back to her, she sat right next to him without much ceremony, her back to the table and leaning to see the face of the person she was speaking to.

"Woah, you're right Sam, no matter how I hear it it's exactly what a hooker would have said!" Three other guys came from behind and also began to sit around the table, Jessica watched Josh as he sat, he quickly raised his hands to excuse himself. "Ok ok, a really high class hooker."

Jess smiled to Josh, which Samuel was now sending the 'You fucking moron' look. "Thaaaat's better Joshi. Too bad you don't look like a really high class guy uh?" And to this, Josh could only look down and sigh as Sam giggled. Mikhail however decided to clap his hands a few times and whistle to attract everyone's attention for a moment.

"Sooooooo, uh, hey dude. I'm Mike, this is Sam, Josh and Jess, and yes, she's single. I think. Whatever this isn't why were here. Yoooou sir seem like a man which may need to go downtown to do... whatever it is guys like you do downtown, I mainly imply you want to buy stuff but you're too lazy to walk there. Which is why I have a wonderful proposition for you! I, as one of the only resident which owns a car, and debatably a license to drive it, am willing to allow you, random guy, to be the fifth guy to pay 2 dollar for the gas in exchange for the last spot. Rear, because Sam already called shotgun."

Jessica took the liberty to take it from there. "Plan is, unless you have something to add: convenience store, then rent some movies and if any of us is still rich enough, have some take out maybe... Damn, I had some awkward sexual innuendo for that."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Something something hotdog?"

Jess shrug. "Nah, it had to do with thai food."

___________________________________________________________

Erika had kept for herself for a while in her room. It wasn't the altercation itself that bothered her, she had almost forgotten all about Callie. A drug fiend obviously that lacked all form of self control. No, it wasn't that, it was that no one intervened to break the fight and afterward, they dared to give her a warning while letting that hoodlum with a warning! The ridiculous of the situation was unbearable. As she thought about the subject, she rationalized this to being a sign that the administration had it on her. They never did understand her. Middle class people coming here as charity to feel good about themselves, where a 'Good life' was being what they were, a middle class home in the suburbs, a mortgage debts, having to work until you're 60. Ridiculous. The 99% movement was right to protest, that wealth distribution is unfair, but the 1% did the impossible by convincing the middle class that all was as it should be. She didn't feel jealousy toward the 1%, at least not one that would incite her to vote democrat for the sake of wealth redistribution.

Right now, she was on Mister Rhodes's office porch, awaiting to encounter him for some 'Therapy'. She could tell he was becoming tired of this after each meeting, but Erika didn't care, if anyone dared to treat her like a child and belittle her, this person could expect Erika to belittle him in return. She accepted that there was a hierarchy in their interaction, Rhodes, was the owner of the place she was staying at the moment, but she could never accept that he'd expect her to do something because 'He has experience and knows best'. Erika didn't see it as such, to claim age as a factor of wisdom only prompted her to remind people that as much as they have seen before, this can also obfuscate their perspective as times change and more often than not, things aren't as they were before.

She looked at her watch, this wait was becoming tiresome, internally she questioned her habits of punctuality and coming 7 minutes earlier to any meeting.

Cal hated this place more and more every second. Cal paced around her room, fuming. She had been escorted back by a security guard, telling her that she was given a free pass in this situation, since she was new, but any further action would result in expulsion. Cal hated being expelled, so this information came as a great relief to her. But as she was walked back to her room she saw the looks the other kids were giving her. They were scared of her, or worse, laughing at her. Cal avoided looking at the kids looking towards her with fear filled eyes. It wasn't like she was just going around punching kids. She shook Erika around because she was being a bitch, and deserved it. If these kids kept out of her way, she would keep out of their way. As for the kids who laughed, they just filled Cal with rage that was already running loose. And when she was feeling particularly bold, and her security guard wasn't looking, she would simply flip them off.

And now she was being kept in her room, until her security guard came back and escorted her to her therapy session. "For her own good." Yeah right. More like for the good of all the snot nosed brats that were living here. Cal had to keep herself from laughing when she learned Erika had gotten a strike put against her, and was surprised to hear that this was her first. Cal couldn't help but feel honored. Cal, still fearing that Erika would tattle, happily deleted her phone messages. For the good of herself and her friend.

After awhile of waiting around, partly bored and partly angry, a knock came at her door. Her cue to leave and head to therapy. Her hands in her pockets and her eyes full of fire. She didn't know why she needed therapy, she would just need to explain that she was fine and Erika was a huge bitch to her. "And for the good of myself I had to defend myself." She thought, waiting outside Howard Brown's office. Her hands still stuffed in her pockets. This was going to be a huge mess.

Hope frowned as Dr. Wilson walked in, sitting up with a start. "I said I wanted my caseworker..." She stuck out her arm as the doctor unvelcroed the blood pressure cuff in her hand. When Hope had been checked into the clinic, her blood pressure had been very odd, according to the nurse. She had refused to tell Hope the numbers which only stressed Hope out more. Hope peered around the cuff to try and see the numbers, but couldn't see them.

Dr. Wilson pulled her stethoscope from her ears and looked Hope dead in the eyes. "Low. Tell me what's bothering you Hope. You would not have come to the clinic if you just wanted to see your case worker. Something tells me you need medical attention but are afraid of consequences. Are you sick, injured? Any symptoms you'd like to discuss?"

Hope squirmed, pain pulsing through her body. She was scared. Was this bone pain? Had the cancer spread? Her eyes filled with tears again and she gulped air, trying to keep herself composed. Shaking her head, her face crumpled and her body shook with her sudden sobs, unable to keep the exterior. Dr. Wilson's expression softened a bit, and she placed a comforting hand on Hope's back. Hope slowly gained enough control to speak. "How well equipped is Open Roads to deal with medical issues?"

Dr. Wilson frowned and rubbed the teen's back again. "It depends on the severity, Hope. We can't deal with everything, but we are willing to outsource to get help from surrounding hospitals and other medical institutes. It would be easier to help you and to ease your fears if we knew what we were dealing with, kiddo..."

Hope nodded, her head hanging. "I would still like to see my case worker and tell him at the same time, but I think I can do this..." She drew her knees to her chest on the cot, shivering slightly. Dr. Wilson nodded and left the room. This was it. She would either be able to get the help she needed or be kicked out. It didn't feel like there was anything between the two outcomes. It felt final and terrifying.

Mr. Brown’s Office – Welcome Building
5:00 PM – Howard Brown

Howard Brown was reviewing Callie Evans’ file and despite what the kids believe, a file doesn’t say much about them. All what the file told him was that Ms. Evans hasn’t have it easy. He continued reading the file and thought of ways to build a functional relationship between them. Rough kids don’t like to be told what to do or anything for that matter. Howard thought. He should know since he grew up in a ghetto and was a rough kid himself. His father was a criminal and an asshole. His mother was a druggie always chasing the high. Having such role models at home, it wasn’t a surprise that he started slinging crack. He would have continued down that path and probably be in prison or dead if it weren’t for an intervention. When Howard was 17 his father was busted and with a mother obviously incapable of taking care of child, he was sent to his gospel preaching aunt. It would have been a wonderful story if it was his aunt how turned him away from sin but no, it wasn’t due her. Away from his dysfunctional family, he simply was able to set himself straight.

The secretary buzzed his intercom, informing him that Callie Evans was waiting outside his office. He told her to let the kid in and said his thanks. By just the way Callie entered the room, he knew she was still fuming about what happened in the afternoon and probably for being coup up in her room. I guess I have to douse those embers before we can get anywhere tonight. He told her she’s free to seat anywhere and he put aside her file.

“I believe you already know who I am so we’ll skip introductions.” Howard began, “Just so we’re clear, this is not therapy. We’re not here to talk about you feelings or childhood. We’re here to discuss your goals and options. With that in the open, I always find it easier talking about such things while smoking.” He took out an ashtray and half a pack of cigarettes. He lit one and passed the pack to Callie. There’s a rule which forbids residents from smoking but not employees and Howard noticing a slight nicotine stain on her fingers, assumed that it would be a nice way to begin things. A little rule bending doesn’t hurt. “Okay Ms. Evans tell me what you had in mind when you decided to become a resident in Open Roads.”

---

This is not a event/scenario post.

Anthony listened to the strangers that had rushed him with a blank expression. He was a tad overwhelmed and scrambled to keep up. As Mike, Sam, and Josh jested, Anthony smirked and snickered a few times entertained by their antics. It was all so foreign to him. A group of close friends? Ha, he was just glad to have Azai in his corner. Jess, the girl that accompanied the goofy guys, had Anthony almost instantly enamored.

Did I die and go to heaven? Nah this isn't real, can't be he thought blinking his eyes a few times, then widening them dramatically. Guys don't often realize how obvious they are. Still, Anthony couldn't help himself. She was cute, but she was big, as in tall. Anthony estimated that she was just a few inches shorter than himself. What a rarity. He became fixated on an odd body part, her hands. They were also massive. To anyone else this might satisfy some freak show type of urge but to Anthony, all he saw was a prototypical woman's basketball body. Well except for her large chest, but seeing as though basketball wasn't the intent compromises could most definitely be made.

Anthony began to shuffle around in his pocket, retrieving and flicking through his wallet. “Here, This should cover gas.” he said unsheathing a ten dollar bill and sliding in towards Mike. “That way we have a little more to spend.” he continued, shooting a quick look over at Jess then back to Mike. “I'm Anthony. Nice to meet you guys. I'm not usually this spontaneous but hey, new town, new leaf.” Anthony stood to his feet, his ankle swelled leading to some discomfort but nothing he couldn't handle. He stretched out, revealing his pelican-esque wingspan, and brought his attention to Sam and Josh. “So, What would the hooker say?”

Cal had been awkwardly sitting in the waiting room, watching the secretary work away. She had thought about saying something like: Good Afternoon or something, but it hadn't really been that good of an afternoon. And Cal was never good at starting conversations with strangers. She had watched the secretary check the time, buzz into Howard Brown, and then open the door for Cal to enter. With an almost forced nod of thanks, Cal stood up and entered the office. For some reason, she expected the office to be way different. Whenever she thought of offices she either thought of the blinding, clean, white of the doctors or the rustic and stuffy brown of some rich old guy, one like her principal used to have. She had seen that office enough times to remember it detail for detail. Whenever she was called into her principals office she felt small and meek, no matter how much she tried to defend herself. This office felt different. She watched with wandering eyes as he set down what she could only guess was her file. It was a lot smaller then the one she had at school. That one was stuffed with write ups about how dangerous she was.

"Uh...thanks..." She grumbled as she chose a plush seat, one that was not directly in front of Howard Browns line of sight. She didn't like eye contact.

She visibly relaxed when he mentioned that they wouldn't be talking about her past. That was one of her biggest fears with coming to Open Roads, she didn't like strangers poking around inside her head. But that made her wonder how much he knew, how much was in that file. She would have to talk carefully. She didn't want to reveal anything he didn't know. Her face turned to one of shock when he offered her a cigarette. Gosh she wanted one. "No strings attached? I'm not gonna light one then suddenly have a SWAT team burst down the door?" She asked as she cautiously slid a single cigarette out of the package, handing it back to him. She then accepted his lighter, happily flicking the small flame to life.

She drew in a deep breath, sucking a lung full of smoke into herself. She tipped her head back, a lazy smile spreading across her face as she exhaled, releasing the smoke up in a pillar above her. After a week of not smoking, she had been trying to ignore the itch. She almost texted Ronnie, asking him to bring her a pack and a light. As Mr. Brown spoke again Cal slowly tipped her head back forward, keeping her eyes on the floor. "Well...uhh...ya'know..." She struggled to find words as she anxiously tapped her cigarette. "Free food and a bed that wasn't my truck...I guess..." Okay not the whole truth, but she didn't want to give away anything about herself.

Alistair looked up as someone spoke. His bright blue eyes searching the man's face. The violent feeling of unease welled up in Alistair's stomach as the scars and marks on his body from the abuse he had suffered began to burn. The memories of rough hands around his throat coated his mind and caused him stop playing. He stood up and looked at the man that had begun singing to the song he had been playing. His bright blue eyes became dull and his face turned from a smile to a tight lipped face of stone. A man was standing in the doorway In room in which he was alone. Alistair's mind filled in with reckless fear about what could happen.

"Fuck off" he said with a growl before shouldering past the man into the hallway. He walked quickly away and held his breath as he walked. His face impassive and almost angry he walked into his room once more. He didn't need to deal with those memories once more. He looked at the phone he had purchased a few weeks earlier. He looked it over and found the sheet music he had downloaded off the net. He gave a short quick smile, his body calming down.

He walked out of his room and decided to go and make some money. He looked around and felt as though he needed someone pretty to help him make some cash. He looked for the announcement booth and pushed the door open, finding the PA system still on. He stepped up to the mic and put on the best radio host voice he could muster.

"Any female residents or guests that can sing and want to make some pocket money, could you please make your way to the front door and speak to Mr Alistair Knight. Thank you and have a pleasant day"

He gave a short laugh and walked to front door, waiting for any responders.

Levi gave a short laugh as she heard the guy on the loudspeakers - she had always had a nice voice, but with it,a crippling sense of shyness about sharing it. After a day in the clinic, she was bored and ready to leave, but she realized any attempts to do so would land her tied to the bed-

Her mind tore from that line of thought into another - not a thought, a memory. Waking up in a dark room, hands and get bound to an iron bed frame, head pounding like a drum. Aaron sitting next to her, predatory black eyes watching her struggle with amusement. "You can't imagine how badly I want you," he whispered, trailing his hand over her bared stomach. "Aaron - what are you doing? Let me GO!" she screamed, but he just smiled, a poisonous smile, laughing like the spider who's lunch had wandered willingly into its web. "Oh, Levi," he said, hands straying to the waistband of her shorts. "You're mine, now."

Levi freed herself from that memory and bit the neckline of her thin hospital gown to keep from screaming. Two nights ago. Two nights ago, he'd done it, robbing Levi of many things - her virginity, her confidence.

Mike got up as well and the others followed suit, only Jess staying on the table to laze around. Antony's last comment made Sam and Jessica chuckle, Mike and Josh merely smiled, before anyone could say anything, Josh raised his hand as to give an answer to that question. It was now noticeable that Jess being 6ft2, Sam 6ft and Mike 5ft9 (Antony towering above them all so much it was unfair) Josh, with his 5ft7, was the smallest guy around. "I believe the hooker would say... Nah, I really don't have any idea, but I'll just state the fact that with you two freakishly huge giants behind with me, no way I get the bitch seat, so shotgun on rear left!"

Before anyone could say anything, Mike followed suit. "Whoa guys, relax for a second, you should know that, and by the way Anthony it's important for you to know that my car is the tricolor one, red, white and rust, important to know that in my car, shotgun only applies to riding shotgun, meaning next to the driver... so run you motherfuckers!"

Josh was already out on a sprint, going surprisingly fast for his tiny legs. "High school football team bitches! I ain't going to be between you freaks!"

Jess tried to jump out the table but managed to almost fall down in the process before she started running. "Ah, no fair! You damn dwarf! Come back here!" Behind her Mike and Sam merely laughed their asses off while they were walking to the parking lot.

Azai decided to go back to the room and organize his stuff, he didn't do anything today, he met his case worker and met a new friend. Anthony, he seemed like a good pal and not bad for his first friend. But He didn't want to judge yet, he could be wrong for better or for worse. Azai stopped for a moment to observe the room, it was a very nice room but Azai thought it could still be better, but he needed to disccus it with Anthony first. He wondered what kind of roommate Anthony was, he never had a single roommate before, the orphanage where he lived was small so all boys slept in the same room. He was excited to finally have his privacy.

Azai got his stuff out and started organizing it, and then he decided to change his clothes and decided to put on his ear pierce and his rings, Azai was feeling that there was something missing the whole time and now he was relieved. He decided to lay on the bed and relax, untill he decides what to do. He kept staring at the ceiling thinking of all the possibilities that has opened before him the moment he set foot in the place. But the problem was that he couldn't decide on what to do, he didn't know where to start or how to start, he rubbed his face then sighed " Well I guess it's no use thinking about this now, I will plenty of time to do that "

Clinic (Physical Health) – Ground Floor, Residential Building
1:22 PM – Andrew Rhodes (Hope Daly)

Georgiana called the senior case worker just after one o’clock with an ominous message: “Drew? I got one of your kids here in the clinic, she’s looking for you. She wouldn’t tell me what’s wrong and her vitals are funny. She also just asked me on how well Open Roads is equipped to deal with medical issues. You better come down here because whatever it is, it might be serious.” The doctor waited in the lobby for Andrew. When he arrived, she immediately passed him Hope Daly’s vital chart which wasn’t inspiring any confidence for them both. Hope’s respiration was slightly weak, her blood pressure was low, and her heart was palpitating. The only good thing about her vitals was that she wasn’t running a fever.

“She didn’t tell you anything at all?” Andrew asked.

“No, she’ll only tell it you. I would have done a quick blood work to get a better picture but OR is a shelter and not a hospital. That means no lab and we’re pretty much regulated to first aid and preventive measures.”

“Okay,” Andrew scratched his beard. “Thanks for the heads up. I’ll talk to her.”

The clinic was never a popular place in the shelter. It tends to bounce between empty and nearly-empty throughout a year with winter having the most patients. Andrew quickly found Hope and sat on the chair by her bedside. “Hey Kid. How you feeling? Georgiana said you were looking for me.”

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Andrew Rhodes’ Office – Welcome Building
4:48 PM – Andrew Rhodes (Erika Sutherland)

Andrew was on the phone talking to Dr. Wilson regarding Hope since the subject was a delicate one. Never ever a dull moment. The senior case worker thought. First was the dining hall incident with Erika and then Hope checking into the clinic. He sighed, his enthusiasm from this morning drained. Being a case worker in Open Roads was just like being a good parent. You simply worry about the kids you’re taking care of. One way or the other, you have to help them make the right choices or make those choices for them. Andrew’s intercom buzzed, it was the secretary informing him that Erika has arrived.

“I have to call you back Georgiana, my five o’clock has arrived.” He hanged up and drew Erika’s case file from a shelf filled with folders containing copies of all the current residents’ file. A total of 156 files. He buzzed Sarah to let Erika in. If not for all the negative terms she gathered during her stay in the shelter, people probably would have described as elegant. She walked with her back straight and her head held high which always gave the impression she was looking down at people. Andrew offered her the seat in front of his desk. He opened her file and sighed.

“Erika, care to explain what happened this afternoon? First warning in nearly a year of good behavior, there must be something to it.”

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Howard Brown’s Office – Welcome Building
5:09 PM – Howard Brown (Callie Evans)

Callie probably took the furthest seat from Howard which was not that very far. He doesn’t mind of course. Her choice simply told him that she’s on her guard but not confrontational. When he offered her a cigarette, she cautiously accepted and jested which made the case worker chuckle. Callie’s drags were deep and savory. Her smile pretty much convinced Howard that she didn’t had on since her arrival in Open Roads. Smoking probably eased any tension she had or has regarding the appointment, since her body lax slightly. The ‘itch’ probably made her more irritable and from the few interaction he had with Erika, he knew that a nicotine itch combined with her rather snobby behavior, person can be driven mad. Ms. Evans was starting to look less like the rough kid Howard presumed her to be. Most admirable was her constraint. Any rough neck here in Open Roads wouldn’t think twice and simply give Erika, or anyone else, a beating for being dissed but then again the beating normally goes both ways. Erika wasn’t really the type to raise her fist against someone. The girl’s sharp wit was the thing protecting her.

“Okay Ms. Evans tell me what you had in mind when you decided to become a resident in Open Roads.” Howard asked Callie.

“Well...uhh...ya'know...” She struggled to find words as she anxiously tapped her cigarette. “Free food and a bed that wasn't my truck...I guess...”

“You do know a guest may come back every evening for dinner and a bed. They’re allowed breakfast as well. They’re just not allowed to stay over the day...” Howard took a deep drag, “So why took up residency? All the ‘I’ll better myself’ oaths, mandatory classes and therapy, I would assume you find those a hassle if you’re simply seeking free food and a bed?”

Cal kept quiet as Mr. Brown spoke to her. She took another deep drag on her cigarette, finding a great deal of comfort from the warm glow in her gut. She quietly interrupted him, the cigarette pushed up against her lips. "Do you think you could call me Cal? Or at least Callie. I don't really like being called Ms. Evans..." She felt awkward being called anything other then Cal, even some of her teachers and her parents and friends called her by her nickname. She avoided eye contact as she ran her free hands through her short hair.

She remained silent as Mr. Brown continued talking, asking her why she didn't just become a resident. Cal chewed on her cheek nervously, should she tell him the truth? Or maybe just part of the truth would make her feel better. Anyway, she felt like she would be able to confide some things in this man. This guy was being payed to listen to whiney teenagers all day, so hearing another wouldn't do him any harm. "Well...ya'know...I don't really think I need to take up residency." She kept her eyes away from Mr. Brown, instead looking at the furniture around the room. "I...uh..." She started to clam up, as if suddenly uncomfortable with talking about herself.

Cal crossed her arms over her chest, tapping the unlit end of the cigarette against her lip. "I just don't think therapy is the thing for me...I have nothing to share and nothing worth sharing." Cal stole a single look up at Mr. Brown before looking back down, hoping he didn't see her look at him. "But...yeah what you said...it's too much of a hassle. I'm just taking the free bed and food while I do other...stuff..." God she hated talking to adults.

Howard Brown’s Office – Welcome Building
5:17 PM – Howard Brown (Callie Evans)

The case worker noted her defensive body language. Asides from the cigarette which provided both chemical and pysco-physical comfort, she was avoiding eye contact and has a close body posture. Reading body language was one of things they teach to case workers, it normally gave them an advantage during interactions so they know when to probe and back out in topics. In Callie’s case, the prospect of therapy clumps her up. Howard assumed it has something to do with her past. Another thing he noted was her awkward way with words. I bet she isn’t the debate type person. She probably use her fists to settle arguments. Howard thought. He let her finish, took a drag and stub out his cigarette.

“Cal, I’ll exempt you from all types of therapy, one-on-one and group, until you want to. Therapy here is not mandatory but we case workers normally prefer residents to attend but since I’m exempting you, I would request an additional hour of classes. What class it would be is up to you. It can be studies or training. I believe you receive a schedule when you took up residency. I’ll place the additional hour during the afternoon studies/training. So instead of 1-3 it’ll be 1-4pm. 5-6pm, when therapy is normally held, would be recreational time. Deal?

And while we’re at it, what happened this afternoon? I’m not here to lecture you, were just getting the facts straight and do you know why we let you slide?”