I stood back and lifted my eyes to the sky. It was cloudy again, no visible appearance of those stars that I longed to see. My parents were at it again, screaming at each other with such intensity that it was breath taking. I wanted to scream too, but it wouldn’t help. I had to keep quiet and be the good little daughter. I hated it, I wished that I would die, but it wouldn’t happen. I wanted them to see how much pain I was in. I wanted to grab that kitchen steak knife and plunge it through my pale white skin, put it through the ribs that poked out, and into my heart that beat. I was starved from the love that I needed, ignored at every moment. The darkness wanted me, and I wanted it. No stars tonight, were there ever any? The forecast and news channel spoke of global warming. I spoke of death. Cloudy was the sky as was I. I was lost, and I wanted to be found. The only way for that to happen is for myself to find something. Perhaps love, but does it exist. If you could hear my parents, you would wish you were dead too. I was constantly in the depressed mood. I would open the medicine cabinet and grab that little white bottle with the pink label, Bendryl. It makes you sleepy after a half hour. It stops your energy flow and makes your eyes go heavy, you crave sleep. I started with one little, round, pink pill. I placed it on my tongue, it started to dissolve leaving that bitter taste on my taste buds. I would swish the irony water into my mouth and swallow. It was just one pill to make the itchiness go away, I had gotten poison ivy. It irritated my skin and irritated me. My hands were all read and I could not stop the scratching. My mother had yelled at me to take something, and I did. The first pill made me drowsy within an hour. I had been munching on my coco puffs and a plate full of toast slathered with butter and raspberry jam. The sweet scent of jam had entered my nose and I suddenly felt weak. My stomach full from the second bowl of chocolatey coco puffs and watered down milk. My eyes felt heavy and my body tired. Slipping my food into the fridge I began to close my eyes. Darkness pulled at me, but I needed that bed. I could just lay down on the floor and drift away, but I also wanted to be warm and snuggly as I drifted away. I tromped down the hall to my overly large bedroom, I crouched over my bed and fell onto it pulling the covers up over my body. Before I could bring my cool sheets up to my neck I was asleep. Not even two hours later I opened my eyes. It was awful, my head killed. My hands were not itchy anymore. The pill had helped and I wanted sleep to invite my to it’s world again.
As I stand here now and look up at the clouds I wish that I could take one last pill. I could go to the cabinet and grab that little bottle and plunge those pills into me. I could handle up to 20 at a time now, but I never seemed to overdose, just over sleep. My parents never noticed which made things even worse. My parents were in the kitchen yelling and screaming, preventing any taking of the pill. It made me sad that they couldn’t see what was going on with me, inside of me. I was angered by the thought of them not knowing what was going on. Tears threatened to my eyes, I fought, but sadly lost and retreated to that sad, cold place. The tears stung my eyes and my face burned. Going blurry I shrunk to the ground and cried for my life.
The yelling had stopped and the tears had too. I snuck back into the house and into my room. I held the key in my hands. The little white bottle. I shook it to feel how much it contained. None. My heart stopped. Fear grew in me instantly. I threw the bottle into the wall and shoved my head into my pillow and screamed. It first came out as little shrieks and then blood curdling yells, it ended with a finale of sobs. I lay back in my bed exhausted. I had to go, go to the darkness. Closing my eyes I plugged my nose and held my breath. Seeing the darkness I began to see white spots, those whites spots became people talking to me, NO! Stop it, leave me alone! I wanted to scream, but they didn’t. Just before I felt myself choking on lack of air, I let my hand fall to my side and I gulped in all the oxygen I could handle. The thing is I didn’t want the oxygen, choking was not the way I wanted to die. I wanted it to be painless, like slipping away. I had no choice though. I would go to my so called friends house and get the help that I needed from that little white pill bottle.
She lived in a run down neighborhood. Signs everywhere warned the citizens about the plethora of criminals and thieves that lived in the area. None seemed to be bothered by it. I of course was, always afraid of what to come next, carrying a taser and pepper spray with me at all times in case of a mugging. I hurried to my friends house hoping to get there and back home before dark. She wasn’t home, so I slipped inside grabbed what I needed and hurried out.
I walked home slowly counting each little, round, pink pill with my fingers. The bottle was brand new, 58 pink capsules invited me to the bed. I wanted sleep and wanted to die, either one would do. I got home and down the bottle and now I will wait.