The Sweetest Thing
Feeling the Relief.
She opened the medicine cabinet above the sink in her bathroom. After checking the bathroom door to make sure it was locked, Spencer picked up an orange pill bottle that was labeled with her mothers name. She quickly opened the bottle, taking out several pills and putting them in her pocket before quickly putting the bottle back into its rightful place. She flushed the toilet, keeping up with the façade of going to the bathroom, then quickly ran to her room. Pulling the pills out of her pocket, Spencer sat on her bed and stared at her gateway in her hand.
She had stolen seven. Sure, that seemed like a lot but her mom kept a bottle of a capacity of 80 Valium for her bum leg, so she wouldn’t notice. Spencer pulled a thick book from her makeshift bookshelf and sat it on her bed. She then got all the necessary utensils out to help her feel the effect of the pills quickly.
She sat three on the book. Taking her Louisiana license out of her purse, Spencer crushed the pills until they were just merely fragments. She then began to use her razor to make the fragments into powder, which she set up in three thin, long lines.
Then there she went again, snorting small white lines- one after another after another. She knows that she is a cliché; using pills to rid all her worries, pain, and memories. And they went away, even if it was just for a short period.
Spencer laid down, tasting the bittersweet drain. Her body began to feel the familiar lightness, as if the weight of her problems were slowly lifting off her body. A small smile formed on her lips. She loved this feeling. She never wanted it to leave. She didn’t want to leave the only thing that she could rely on. She could count on the pills to make her feel better. She could trust the pills to make her feel better, and she wasn’t stopping using them.
An hour later, the problems started to suffocate her. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t handle it. She stuffed the rest of the pills in her mouth and began chewing them, swallowing them. It took too long. She had to have the relief again. She just had to. She had to forget her brother raping her, her father and mother yelling and threatening divorce, and her best friend dying. She couldn’t take the grief and self-loathing.
Spencer ran into the bathroom, not caring if the door was wide opened. She opened the cabinet door, taking the her mom’s pill bottle out, swallowing as many pills as she could. She was impatient. With shaking hands of desperation to forget her problems, she opened every pill bottle in the cabinet, swallowing as many as she could, dropping the rest to the floor.
She finally started to feel the relief. Her whole body became light and she fell to the floor, gasping haggardly. It started to feel too much. She couldn’t move. She was barely breathing and her heart was racing. She felt cold. But she still felt the relief. And that’s all that mattered.
Surrounded by the rainbow colored pills and orange bottles, her final breath escaped her lips.
Forever feeling the relief of forgetting.
She had stolen seven. Sure, that seemed like a lot but her mom kept a bottle of a capacity of 80 Valium for her bum leg, so she wouldn’t notice. Spencer pulled a thick book from her makeshift bookshelf and sat it on her bed. She then got all the necessary utensils out to help her feel the effect of the pills quickly.
She sat three on the book. Taking her Louisiana license out of her purse, Spencer crushed the pills until they were just merely fragments. She then began to use her razor to make the fragments into powder, which she set up in three thin, long lines.
Then there she went again, snorting small white lines- one after another after another. She knows that she is a cliché; using pills to rid all her worries, pain, and memories. And they went away, even if it was just for a short period.
Spencer laid down, tasting the bittersweet drain. Her body began to feel the familiar lightness, as if the weight of her problems were slowly lifting off her body. A small smile formed on her lips. She loved this feeling. She never wanted it to leave. She didn’t want to leave the only thing that she could rely on. She could count on the pills to make her feel better. She could trust the pills to make her feel better, and she wasn’t stopping using them.
An hour later, the problems started to suffocate her. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t handle it. She stuffed the rest of the pills in her mouth and began chewing them, swallowing them. It took too long. She had to have the relief again. She just had to. She had to forget her brother raping her, her father and mother yelling and threatening divorce, and her best friend dying. She couldn’t take the grief and self-loathing.
Spencer ran into the bathroom, not caring if the door was wide opened. She opened the cabinet door, taking the her mom’s pill bottle out, swallowing as many pills as she could. She was impatient. With shaking hands of desperation to forget her problems, she opened every pill bottle in the cabinet, swallowing as many as she could, dropping the rest to the floor.
She finally started to feel the relief. Her whole body became light and she fell to the floor, gasping haggardly. It started to feel too much. She couldn’t move. She was barely breathing and her heart was racing. She felt cold. But she still felt the relief. And that’s all that mattered.
Surrounded by the rainbow colored pills and orange bottles, her final breath escaped her lips.
Forever feeling the relief of forgetting.