[ WP ] A PTSD support group for those who survive horror movie scenarios .

The chairs were all set up. The coffee was brewing, the nicotine-stained windows letting in the last light of sunset. Another meeting, thought Jason, and drew deeply from the first cigarette of his third pack of the day. 
 
 The regular crowd shuffled in. Wan smiles, pale faces. Empty eyes. Recovery is a bitch. 
 
 Easing his bulk down on the creaking plastic chair, arranging his feet on the linoleum tiles. it was easier than meeting their eyes. But it was time to start the meeting. 
 
 `` My name is Jason,'' he said, and tried to ignore the perpetual dripping of his ragged garb, the itchy empty place on his belt where the machete should've hung. `` And I'm a murderholic.'' 
 
 `` Welcome, Jason,'' came the sussurus of the voices of the damned. 
 
 ( did it backwards, sounded more fun that way )
