Levi got up later than usual, in the peak of her heroin withdrawal. Her back was killing her, and, as she stood up to get her shoes, her legs almost collapsed under her. She bent down painfully and yanked her black combat boots on with more force than necessary, than walked out of the guest sleeping hall and into the dining hall, hands shoved deep in her pockets and head hidden under the hood of her cheap black hoodie. It was only her second day at Open Roads, but she was aware of the rules and expectations. In the dining hall, she took a tray, sat down at the furthest table in the darkest corner, and tried to eat.
Tried to. Levi only managed a few mouthfuls before she shoved the tray aside and rested her head on the table. As a mere guest, she was to leave after breakfast, which she did, but since her admittance to Open Roads at night, her suppliers had started to shun her, leaving her alone to her withdrawal pain. She groaned and buried her head under her arms, hiding from the light, the stares of other teens and staff, the embarrassment of withdrawal.