If and When We Don't Take Medication

Nicole’s POV
“Eeep!” I squeal.

I’m sitting on my old waterbed at home after college. It’s just the beginning of August, and school doesn’t start until the end. I don’t have a boyfriend or a job, so I come home and work on the farm. I’m twenty-two, going into my senior year of college. I had just finished talking with Fall Out Boy on Twitter!

I sit there, just, staring at the wall for what seems like eternity. I finally stand u, bringing my computer with me to the living room where my mom was sitting, playing her iPad.

“Hey, mom,” I say politely as I sit down on the chair next to her.

“Hi.” She doesn’t even glance up.

“Do you want to go to a Fall Out Boy concert?”

“Not really, why?”

“Oh, I was just wondering. Could I go to one? I’m twenty-two and have a driver’s license.”

“Did you get tickets?” she asks sternly, finally looking up from her game.

“No, I didn’t. I was just on Youtube and fanpop and then I was on Twitter—“

“You have a Twiter?!”

“I’m twenty-two, mom. Anyways, apparently Patrick Stump, Pete Wentz, Andy Hurley, and Joe Trohman watched a video I posted on Youtube seven years ago.”

“And?”

“Well, on my profile,” I say, going to the Youtube tab I had up. It’s my profile. My mother reads it and sighs. “And Fall Out Boy bothered themselves to get a fanpop and post something on my wall. I told them to follow me on Twitter and PM me. Patrick did so. He, Pete, and I private messaged for a little while, and they told me I could get in for free at the next Michigan concert—for free. Still don’t want to go?” I explain to her. She takes this all in and wraps it around her head and says something after a minute or two.

“No, I don’t really care for Fall Out Boy’s new music.”

“You don’t like Save Rock and Roll? Or Filler?”

“Not really, no.”

“Well, can I go by myself?”

“No; I wouldn’t go by myself.”

“Why not? I’m an adult now.”

“Let me talk to your father about it. Maybe one of your sisters wants to go.”

“No! I really just want it to be me. Or me and you.”

“I’ll ask your dad, okay?” she growls, continuing her game. I stand up, holding the computer, and walk back to my room. I continue typing away If and When We Don’t Take Medication. I do so until nine P.M, when I get hungry. I grab a yogurt and head back to my room, scooping some of it into my mouth with a sterling silver spoon. I finish the yogurt quickly as I check my Twitter: one new PM from Patrick Stump.

The bouncer said it was okay if you wanted to bring some people. You and whoever you bring would go inside as soon as you get there and meet us. You can chill out with us and Panic! At the Disco until they start letting people in. So, the earlier you get there, the more time you’ll have to talk with us.

I smile broadly as I read the message.

I talked with my mom and she said she has to talk to my dad to see if I can go alone, because she doesn’t want to go.

I wait a moment for the new PM to pop up.

You can drive?

I roll my eyes.

Did you see when I posted that video? I was in 8th grade when it was shot, I posted it a year later, and it’s been seven years. How old does that make me?

I laugh as I type this and mumble the lyrics to one of their songs I’m listening to.

You’re twenty-two. Nine years younger than I am.

I laugh at how the math goes.

Yep. I don’t know why my mother won’t let me go by myself. She’s so over-protective of me. I’m her youngest and I’m single. She’s probably afraid I’m gonna get drunk and do something stupid.

As soon as I send it, almost immediately, he replies

You just might

The intake of my breath was so sharp I coughed.

Did you just hear the gasp emitted from my throat? Well, you should have. You don’t even know me, how would you know what I’d do? The only alcohol I like is wine and wine coolers. Beer isn’t the greatest. I’ll drink it, though.

As I typed this, I heard the front door slam and the clomping of my aging father’s boots. I hear muffled voices and shortly after, a clearer one.

“You can go to that concert, Nick!”

I look at the computer screen and see what he’s sent me.

True, but you’re a girl raised in that era.

“Thank you!” I call back.

My mom and dad said I can go to the concert by myself. And, thanks. That was sarcasm…haha ugh…I guess I’ll see you and the rest of Fall Out Boy next week…well, five days from now. The concert starts at seven in Auburn Hills, right?

I type a little on my story.

That’s awesome…Yep, Auburn Hills, seven o’clock. They let the people in at six. If I were you, I’d get there at four.

I look at the screen and type quickly.

That was when I was planning to come anyways. You guys are AMAZING. Thank you so much for thinking I’m funny. Oh, yeah. Watch some of my newer videos. They’re funnier. And, you know, not old or anything. Haha, well, it was fantastic to talk to you guys! Love ya!

I shut off my computer and listen to my iPod, curling up to go to sleep. I throw something hard in the general vicinity of the light switch and hit it, shutting the light off.

“Yes,” I whisper to myself, proud that I actually did that. I then realize that I had my camera on. I stand up and stumble to it, feeling for the top of the camera. I feel the lens and move my hand, revealing my face to it. “Hey! I just realized that I left the camera on! Did y'all see that awesome move? I don’t think that’ll ever happen again!”
I shut off the recording and walk over to the light switch, turning it on. I hop onto my bed and laptop. I put the SD card in it from the camera and edit the video, so it’s just me curling up to go to sleep, throwing the hard object, and speaking. I go online and post the video on Twitter and Youtube. With the video, I tweet, “This is the most amazing thing ever! #Imawesome” It’s eleven at night and I got this urge to go outside, so, I shut the lid on my computer, pulling out the SD card. I grab the tripod and I shove the SD card back into camera, put on my flip flops and walk outside. I turn on the camera and record on. I turn it to me. “Hey, guys. Well, I’m outside at eleven at night. As you can see, it’s a little dark. Who dares me to go into cornfield for as long as I can? Should I leave the camera here? I’ve my tripod…All you’ll see is corn and hear my voice. What, you like voice?” I chuckle, “Well, then. Let’s go.”

I walk into the corn.

“I’ve gone in here during the day…It’s not as creepy,” I laugh. “I know there are coyotes out. Let’s see if we can hear them.”

I don’t speak. After a minute, I hear a few howl. It almost sounds like they’re right ahead of me by 50 yards.

“They seem like they’re right in front of me!” I exclaim, looking into the camera. “Let’s keep going…I’m gonna look into the screen…to see if there is any glare from their eyes.” I turn the camera to I look at the picture in front of me. I walk through some rows of corn in utter silence. Until I hear a bloodcurdling yowl that is next to me. I slowly turn and look at the camera. The glare of ten beady eyes is looking at me. “Oh, well, what do ya know? Some of them are right here…in front of my very eyes… Heh…heh…Let’s just sit this out—stand it out, I mean. I am so not sitting down right in front of these things. I don’t want to be eaten!” I look away from the camera and hear a growl. I look back at the camera and see one of them—apparently the dominant male—start walking up to me. “Okay…that’s the pack leader, I assume, and he’s walking up to me…growling. Oh, dear Lord, what did I get myself into? Should I hold out my hand for it to sniff? I really would like to keep my hand. Oh, look. He’s right in front of me.” I move the camera to look at the coyote. It’s sniffing my hand. “It’s sniffing my hand!” I exclaim in a whisper. “I kinda hope it licks my hand and start rubbing up against my leg like a domesticated dog would do…So I could pet it, you know?” As soon as I say this, the animal licks my hand and arm. “Look at that. He’s licking me!” I move my hand ever so slightly and he rubs his head under it to be pet. I continue petting it, still videotaping it. “It wants to be pet! I’m actually petting a wild animal! That’s something you don’t hear every day. I’m a little scared its friends will lash out and tear me to shreds…But I wanna leave!” I whine. I slowly take my hand back and back up. “I know I’m not backing up the way I came from, but I went in here fairly close to the edge, and I didn’t go that far to the center…I know I’m not even halfway to my neighbors…Oh, shiznuts! The thing and its pack are following me.” I keep my pace while backing up, feeling behind me with my heel before stepping so I don’t trip. “I’m surprised I haven’t tripped yet,” I laugh. I back up a few more steps and end up by the ditch, about twenty feet from my yard. “Look how close I am to my house!” I say, turning the camera to my home. “Time to back out in the ditch…I really hope it’s not full.”

I back out onto the road. “Oh, thank God! I’m safe!” As soon as I shout this, I see a coyote jump into the ditch.