Pills
I wake up next to her like a corpse would. Despite the bare skin on bare skin contact, I feel cold against Demi. It's so hard to move the thin sheets I'm entangled in. Every limb cracks as I do so, removing an angel from my waist takes ten, twenty, a thousand times the effort it should. Even thereafter, I still must muster the strength to shuffle my way to the bathroom. My face haunts like a ghost in the mirror as I stare back at the transparent figure before me. She watches my shaking hand as I bring the pills to my mouth and knock them back with a jittering glass of water. As much as I can get anyway.
I always found it peculiar how humans -each of the six billion and seven hundred million that reside on earth- keep going through the same motions that hurt more than help. Medical or not, to feel something or nothing at all, friend or foe, this thing that is continuously violating them in the most discreet -and maybe even beautiful- of ways is welcomed again and again without as much as a cry of resistance. Drugs, people, in some ways they are one in the same. If there was such thing as a good heroine, it's currently passed out and topless in my bed. That's on what ifs though. Good heroine doesn't exist, and that woman over there is far more powerful and addictive.
It's three am. I am tired but not surprised my eyes are open at this hour. I almost always wake up early now. Once I'm up I'm up, that's final until further notice. Even the syrups that taste like liquid cough drops can't knock out this sleepless soul. I'm too drugged for anything to really make an impact anyway. The medication seduces me to what feels like nothing. I'm just drifting through life, one pointless step at a time. It's so hard to show the love I have for anything these days. Bye these days I mean the last three weeks. These days feel like months though. Time passes sluggishly when boredom reigns, even when it's just for a short time. In order to keep my hallucinations and wig outs from PTSD at bay, I have to cut all imagination and almost all raw emotion entirely. Demi insists I try something else, something less draining. Something that doesn't require her to say my name three times to get me out of a purple haze. Once upon a time she could whisper and I'd come running through fire and storm to hear her so much as breathe again. I still would if I could, but the rain freezes my bones and the smoke burns my eyes. Even if I tried, I wouldn't get very far.
I exit the bathroom as quietly as I can, slipping one of Demi's hoodies off the floor and enveloping myself in her on the way out of my room and into the kitchen. I make some tea and situate myself on the little bench hanging by the porch ceiling out front. Crickets tell each other their stories as the moon and dull stars listen intensely. The steam of my cup seems to be something they would understand.
I hear her before she speaks, but I don't mind her standing on the threshold, burning holes in the back of my head with her gaze. I can picture her now, sleep in the creases of her eyes, a slight frown surrounded by a Milky Way of freckles and a galaxy of smooth olive skin, a loose shirt and tiny shorts doing nothing to shelter her from the elements. While she looks flawless, the moonlight putting a sparkle in her eyes like the one she had before this mess. She's as black as the ink on her skin right now. It may be sadness, it may be depression, but it's also elegance. All colors can mean so many different things.m. "It's cold up there without you".
"Just wasn't feeling sleep tonight, that's all. It is cold though", I agree, still looking out in the distance for what never comes.
"You promised me you'd switch meds".
"I did indeed, but I never promised a date or time in which I would".
Demi's quiet feet patter against the wood beneath them until she's next to me. I look up to an exhausted woman who's tits are only sheltered by my favorite fugly but fuzzy plaid blanket. I've been mistaken, no t-shirt. Same woman underneath though, in the end it's just a decoration. "Mind if I sit"? I shake my head, and she slowly lowers herself to situate against me. I wrap a free arm over her shoulders and massage it soothingly. "It's beautiful out tonight".
"It is". I agree again.
Then there is a silence, perhaps in relaxation, perhaps in a moment with nothing else to say. I don't mind it much though, I just count the stars to the highest number I can while I take in the warmth radiating next to me. "Do you think aliens look at the stars the same way we do"?
"Who's 'we', You and me or all of humanity"?
" I wasn't aware there was a difference", Demi said, looking at me curiously.
"Religion, culture, and environment all play a role. While you and I admire their beauty and you wonder who else in the universe feels and looks at them how you do, others do not think of the stars at all. People in the city hardly see them through all the lights. Others have rituals, they could be gods after all. I didn't think about them much until recently".
"I guess you can't give me an answer", Demi smiles.
"NASA could not give you an answer", I laugh.
Demi smiles and looks back out to the sky as if it's a foreign land she cannot travel to, that smile going from bright to dull in an instant. "Do you think people who went to heaven become stars to watch their loved ones"?
"Well, I don't really have a religion. Maybe to some but not me. Stars are hot objects in space. Dead souls have no relation. I feel like once you're dead, you're dead. You're either sleeping for eternity or roaming the earth looking for something that was lost". I finish my tea and set the mug down on the ground beside me.
"Have I ever told you how smart you are"?
"I believe so, but I'm really not, although I very much enjoy when you do. I'm spiritually full, but intelligence is at a bare minimum. I can't even spell the words I speak or count the days of the month on a page".
"You of all people should know that's not what intelligence is", Demi slightly scolds in her duh tone, "but what if I said I could teach you how".
"You're a singer, sweetheart. Not a special needs teacher", I laugh.
"Well one, you are no longer special needs. Two, anyone can teach anything if they have the knowledge and mindset".
"Fair enough. Now, it is very early and you have a flight in seven and a half hours. Back to bed now".
I grab my mug and she grabs my hand, guiding me through the kitchen only long enough for me to put it in the sink before dragging us to my bedroom. She beats me to the sheets and the second I get a knee on the bed she drags me on top of her, the blanket falling to gravity. She's wide open now, I know what she wants and she knows I can't give it to her yet. Even if I could it wouldn't matter. The haze is getting stronger, I can feel it. I feel like there's a pressure behind my eyes and I can't focus on what's at hand. My knee twitches with pressure and I feel like I'm trying to smile but and unseen force is stopping me. Judging by the chocolate eyes examining my features from beneath me, Demi feels it too.
"I hate when you're like this", she scowls.
"Like what", I mumble while my arms give out and I fall on top of her, "I'm trying to sleep".
"Drugged. You look like me when I tried heroine". I open my eyes when Demi slaps my cheek lightly, shocking me shitless for a moment. "Don't you lie to me, sleep my ass. Those stupid pills scrape away your slumber like they're ripping the eyelids out of your head".
"Ouch", I wince, thinking about how that would feel. I don't think what I thought was right though. How do you imagine your eyelids being ripped out? How do you even imagine? "When did you do heroine? I thought you were a crack and pot kind of gal".
"Oh wonderful, the one word queen took five? I didn't know you had personality shifts. I tried things, wasn't a fan of needles but it got the job done".
"You should sleep. You're grumpy as a vampire in sunlight". I find it funny, somewhere in my mind. I just can't bring myself to laugh or even smile.
"How many pills did you take, Natalie?" Demi asks, sitting up, causing my face to drag down her chest.
"Two. No wait, I think it was four. The dosage wasn't working and three just seems like an unlucky number. I don't know why your genius of a father chose that as his special numeral. It's not so lucky now though is it, he's dead and it's tattooed on your wrist. Now look where you are. Stuck with me", I slur. Somewhere in my mind I knew this was wrong, everything I said and did was off. This wasn't me, but times change and there is a foreigner taking the reigns of my mind.
"Did you really just say that to me?", she questions. I sense a disbelief in her tone, but I decide to brush it off. Maybe pretending not to know will help me get away with something I will get in trouble for. I just don't know what that is yet.
"Are you gonna suck my blood until I'm bone dry"?
"You're high and on your way to becoming an addict, I can see it now. Unbelievable. I try as hard as I can to protect you from everything but you still manage to slip away. You're on your way to becoming just like my dad".
"Dead? We're all on our way to being like your father".
"I can't even listen to you right now". I hear Demi vaguely as she shoves me quite aggressively off her and stomps to the bathroom, talking to herself about things I can't hear. Everything sounds soft, like its falling on a pillow and dripping slowly into my ears. I hear every drop of every pill as they fall into the toilet bowl, clicking of the white sides and plopping into the water. Then Demi stomps back, my eyes just barely seeing the tears in her eyes and and anger in her eyebrows as she comes toward me in her fierce toplessness. "Come on", she says. "I'm getting that Zyrax shit out of you.".
"It should come out the other end soon".
"Natalie. Please, work with me here. I'm trying not to be mad. You're sick. This is undoable but only right now".
"It seems all I ever am is sick to you now. Everything always has to be undone for it to be right. I thought I was fun and exciting and almost everything your confused conscience could want".
"You are, but not when you're too occupied with drugs", Demi sighs as she slowly pulls me to a standing position. Her arm around my waist and almost forcing me to walk. When she stops at the toilet I just stand there. Demi decides waiting won't do any good and gets me to my knees." Ok, stick your fingers down your throat".
"Why"?
"You need to make yourself throw up".
"I don't need to do anything".
"I'm not fighting anymore, I'm sorry", and with that little sorry, an insignificant four letter word, she found it appropriate to open my mouth and wiggle her pretty fingers down my throat until we both felt the stomach contraction. She then cleared the path and bent me over the white seat while I puked my guts out. After doing it once more, she found the task was completed. I just cried. I didn't know what to do and I hate the taste of stomach acid in my mouth. I vaguely had the bitterness of nail polish too. I'm not sure which flavor was worse.
Demi stood, helping me to my feet as well. I was too tired to fight her. I watched as she slipped on a Ramones t shirt and kissed me on the forehead as I sat on the bed. "I know how you feel, trust me, I wish I didn't and I wish you didn't but we can't change either of those facts now. We'll find you the right medication ok? We can do this like how I hope we can do every future struggle. Together. I love you".
"I love you too, but please never make me puke again", I whine, "and by the way, you can't flush pills, it gets into the water system".
Demi fights a smile,"it's not something I enjoy. Let's hope the system has nice filters". She leaves the room and comes back shortly. "Eat the granola bar. You lost some dinner. I take that back. Most of it, you don't eat much on that stupid fucking pill".
"Pills", I correct, taking a bite of the now open granola bar in my hand.
"Not now", Demi scowls, but a smile fights it as she grabbed my face gently by the cheeks, "you're already caring about things that don't matter. You're coming back to me".
"I never left". I finish the granola bar and put the wrapper on the side table, feeling slightly better after eating and wiping old tears out if my eyes. "Come on", I groan as I grab her and pull her onto my chest. "Now let's actually sleep princess."
And we did. It was wonderful. I was sleeping like I used to. With her beside me and any issues in the background because of it. Oh how I wish it would just stay that way.
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That was eh. Tell me how it is sometime, I'd appreciate knowing what readers think of what they just read.
Shout out to @sonder_x for reading the shit out of this series
Vote, comment, share, and nominate.
This series is ending soon guys...within a month or two. Don't worry though, going to draw up a new book.
To her,
I love you, you know I do Z. From here to the very last time you break my heart.