Insane

The next week went by pretty slow, and when Thursday rolled around, I was feeling venturous and overwhelmingly bored.

I get home from school and sink into the couch. It was beginning to feel like groundhogs day.

Fuck, everything is just getting so old.

I doze off for a few minutes until my brother bursts through the door, singing to himself.

How the hell can he be so goddamn happy all the time?

He disappears upstairs to play on the computer, like he does every day.

I search my mind for an idea of something to do. Anything.

Hmmm… booze. My mind suggests.

Yep. I really needed some.

I walk over to the table and steal one over the chairs. Pushing it across the floor I stop right in front of the oven. In the cabinet above was all of my mom’s liquor. I climb up on the chair and open up the cabinet, looking through the bottles, grabbing anything that looked good.

Peppermint Schnapps? I like peppermint.

I unscrew the sticky cap and take a huge drink.

Holy shit that’s delicious!

I take a few more drinks before putting it back in the same spot. I grab a few more bottles out of random and take some drinks.

Feeling a bit better, I close the cabinet, push the chair back over to the table and I head back over to the couch.

What now?

After a few minutes, it came to me. Nyquil. A satanic grin spread across my face.

Josh, one of Tealors friends, had told us before about how he was getting high off Nyquil every day. Eventually his mom caught him doing it and confiscated the cough syrup from him.

It was perfect.

I walk over to the pantry and start searching, my eyes landing on it right away.

It was right there in front of the band-aids.

I stared at the red liquid, my good conscience kicking in; I started pondering the possible consequences.

I pushed all my worries aside as I snatch the bottle and shove it into my pocket.

I knew I had about two hours before my mom got home, so I was good on time.

I look around to make sure my brother wasn’t anywhere to be seen. I take the Nyquil out of my pocket and set it on the counter. I stand there for a while, staring down the bottle.

should I really do this?

“Yep I’m gonna do it,” I say out loud to myself. I bravely grab the bottle and twist it open.

The foul smell of licorice mixed with cherry filled my nose. I hated licorice, and cherry doesn’t belong in cough syrup.

I quickly put it up to my lips. Plugging my nose, I down the rank liquid as fast as I could, trying my best to hold it in my stomach. The more I drank, the more nervous I got.

I decide to only drink half the bottle; a whole seemed a bit much.

I set the bottle back on the table, half empty. I place the lid back on the bottle and carry it back over to the pantry, laying down on the couch afterwards.

I was starting to get dizzy, and really drowsy. I closed my eyes and dosed off.

It felt like maybe twenty seconds before my mother shook me awake, her face staring into mine.

“Meghan, wake up. No sleeping!” She was holding my shoulder, still staring at me.

“Oh hi sorry I fell asleep I was really tired.” I explained, trying to sound normal as best as I could.

“Are you drunk?” My mom asked seriously.

“NO! No, no, no I am not drunk…” I trailed off.

“You smell funny,” She said, interrupting my rambling.

Fuck, fuck! She knows. I’m screwed. Oh man I’m fucked. my mind was going crazy trying to come up with the best explanation I could.

“Uhm, well I had a cough so uhh I took some Nyquil and got a little drowsy and I fell asleep and yeah.” The slur starting to show in my speech

“Ok, and how much did you take? Don’t lie to me again; I know you didn’t have a cough.” She said in anger.

Damnit. Should I lie? Or should I tell her?

“Uhh well I had two doses in the cup thingyyyy.” I said with my eyes closed. I didn’t care if I got in trouble at this point, I just wanted to go back to sleep.

“Don’t go back to sleep Meghan!” She said in a harsh tone.

I get up from the couch and stumble over to the wall, holding myself up.

“Meghan, you are drunk, you can’t even walk straight! You’re stumbling everywhere and slurring! There’s no way you only took two tablespoons.”

“Noooo nooo stop itttt I’m not drunk, just a little ermm dizzy.”

“Just stop with the bullshit and tell me how much you had, I have to call poison control! Did you have any alcohol before you took the Nyquil?” She said franticly, searching for her phone.

“No.” I said.

Lie.

“How much did you drink, honestly?” she said with pleading eyes. Okay, fine I give up I’m fucked either way.

“Half the bottle- I think,” I say. I was not gonna mention the fact I took a few drinks of her liquor.

“Oh God Meghan, why?” She asks going over to the pantry, taking out the bottle.

“BECAUSE I FUCKING HATE MY LIFE! I JUST WANT TO DIE! I DON’T WANNA BE HERE ANY MORE; I FUCKING HATE IT, SO MUCH!” I scream. I freeze; I couldn’t believe I let that slip out. Can you say drama queen?

It was true though, I really didn’t care if I died. I hated myself and the life I was living. I hated school, more than an average person should. And I just didn’t care anymore.

“Would you rather live with your dad, or someone else?” She asked sympathetically, looking completely helpless to the situation.

“No! I don’t know I can’t even think right now!” I say, my voice a little lower.

“What’s going on?” Colin asks, coming out of nowhere.

“Meghan’s drunk.” My mom says with the phone up to her ear.

“Hi, uhm, I came home today and found my daughter passed out on the couch. I woke her up and noticed she smelled funny and got her to confess that she drank a half a bottle of Nyquil.” My mom says into the phone, trying to stay calm.

“Okay, she takes a twenty mg of Prozac. Okay… okay, I will. Thanks.”

She closes her phone, grabbing the bottle and her purse.

“Well, we have to take you to the hospital. You may have destroyed your liver.” She says walking toward the garage door.

“What?! No Mom I don’t want to go, I don’t needa go to the hospital.” I protest. I did not want to go to the hospital. I would look like a complete idiot, who goes to the hospital because they’re drunk on Nyquil? Me apparently.

“You are going to the hospital. Get in the car.”

Damnit.

I walk over to the laundry room and try to put on my converse.

I finally give up attempting to tie the laces and slip on my slippers.

Fail.

I stumble down the steps in the garage. I trip on the last stair and collapse, catching myself on the car.

Fail. Again.

I start slowly making my way my car door, holding onto the car as I do so.

“Is Meghan gonna die?” Colin says as we get in the car.

My mom turns on the car, and quickly drives down the driveway.

With no emotion in her voice, she answers,

“I don’t know.”