Victoria Carpenter

Overdose

 I slowly crouch down, leaning backwards, feeling for the ground beneath me. My stomach is sick; the world feels frigid and hard as i let my body collapse the rest of the way down to the tile. My head is spinning so fast, unwilling to stop and let me gather my bearings. I sit up and lean my head against the stone wall. like the tile, and like everything else in this damn bathroom, it sends tremors throughout my body. I am forced down by an invisible force to this bathroom floor.

Without warning, my stomach lets out a lurch, and i am pulled towards the toilet as i cough and sputter. I look down at what i just heaved out, and it is nothing but stomach acid. The cold porcelain toilet sends shivers through me, and i slowly push back and lean against the wall again. The shivers wont go away. I hold a hand out, and make a game of how long i can keep it still. I lose. I continue to shake like a leaf as another lurch goes through my stomach, and I twist my body attempting to get rid of some of the pain. I am lying on the floor. I'm so cold, so very cold. But I cant move.

I let out a moan, attempting to release some of the pain. It fails, and I let out a sob. I bring my hands up to my face and realize two things. One, that my cheeks were stained with tracks of salty tears and mascara. Two, that my hands were cold as death. I hold them under my armpits to warm them up, then snap them down to clench my stomach as another wave of agony goes through. I am now laying on the floor, curled up in the fetal position. my eyes are clenched shut and teeth gritted.

In between the sobs, I hear the door swing open. Footsteps across the floor, and the door slam shut. They stop in their tracks as they notice me, the girl on the floor a few stalls over.

"Are you okay?" she calls. Oh, if she only knew. I attempt to respond, but it only ends with a grunting noise. I glance over and can see her black flip flops, just standing there, as i crawl over to the toilet and bring myself up to stand. I reach backwards, slide the lock on the door, and stumble out to the sink directly across from it. I am grasping both sides of it, with my head down, trying to keep my head from flying away. I look up slightly and am shocked at what I see.

My skin is pale, and drenched with a thin layer of sweat and tracks of charcoal black mascara. My long brown hair is pushed back and greasy on the sides. In all complete honesty, I looked like I rolled out of a grave. The only thing that looked fresh was my clothes. Dark denim skinny jeans, black flats, turquoise lacy tank top, and a black tee with a zip up the back. I hazily thought of the last time i wore this outfit: the last day that my boyfriend and I were together. I remember every detail of laying on our downstairs couch, our breathing in synch, just listening to eachothers heartbeats. We were so in love. Or rather, I was so in love...

My minds eye blinks, and brings me back to now. My eyes are lazy, not wanting to stay open. groggily turn my head away from the mirror, to look at the girl who is still standing there, with a surprised look on her face. I would have laughed, had this been under different circumstances. She is still expecting an answer.
"Promise me one thing," i started. "never mess around with percocet." And with that, the bathroom starts to tilt back and forth, and I struggle to keep myself standing. I try to take a deep breath and set myself on the ground. I collapse instead. The girl reaches for me, and breaks some of my fall.

"Percocet? How much did you take?" she interrogates, her eyes flashing with worry. I suddenly recall her from a girl in my first grade class. only eight years ago. Gabby Reil was her name. Short for Gabrielle. I let my head plop side to side.
"Twelve" I mumble, as she gently gives in and lets me sleep on the tile. my eyes are heavy, and stay shut. I can only slightly process her footsteps running towards the door, and it slamming shut behind her as i drift off into nothing.

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Victoria Carpenter.
Published on e-Stories.org on 06/28/2010.

 
 

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