I hate AA. Were all suffocating in this circle, our air now fruity perfume and cologne. To hiding the smell of alcohol or something else something better. Smoke and perfume sting my nostrils, giving me a headache. Mark our therapist shifts uneasily in his chair, he clears his throat

“How about we go around the room and say our name, age, and why we think we’re here” I roll my eyes, were here because were addicted to alcohol. Hence the name AA, I don’t know if he got the memo. A man in a business suit is first, nobody would think he’s a friend of the bottle.

“Hi I’m Joey” they all chorus back to him like school children,

“Hi Joey” I remain silent.

“I’m an office manager and well, I get stressed. When this happens I drink” I roll my eyes finale he got to the point.

“It use to be once or twice a month. The I go promote and it’s everyday now” he sits down as Mark nods. Next is an older women, she is the stereotypical alcoholic. A short pink dress, a bra strap fallen down. Her make-up cheep and speared.

“I’m Sugar”

“Hey Sugar” they call back. I listen to her tale of her life. It’s a sad one; she’s done a lot for the bottle. She sits down at the end. I’m next,

“I’m Elle” they start to say there line

“Please don’t, I know hey Elle, but just don’t”

“Do you know why you’re here?” Mark asks staring at me.

“Cause my Juvy said so” their eyes get wide.

“How old are you?”

“14”

“Why are you here?”

“I like alcohol, the smell, the way it goes down. The fact it takes away every emotion and feels it with pleasure and joy. The bottle loves me, when even my own mother doesn’t. I’m here because I’m an alcoholic.” The room goes silent, as Mark smiles.

“Hello Elle” I sigh sitting down. Yet for some freaking reason I feel better. Like a weight has been lifted off my chest. I’m Elle, I’m fourteen, and I’m an alcoholic. And I, I need help.