Except for the stairs leading to my bedroom, a small orange bottle clutched tightly in my hand.
My dad is at work and my mother is at her daily yoga class. She’ll inevitably linger afterward, sipping her disgusting green smoothie, laughing with her friends, solving the world’s problems, and trading bits of gossip.
Which means I’ll be alone for a while.
Plenty of time.
I found it strange at first, that my mom kept a prescription of pain pills in her medicine cabinet. She barely even takes Tylenol. But last week when I went looking for a fresh towel—towels on one shelf, medicine on the next—I saw them. And without thinking, I slipped the bottle into my bra.
I’ve turned it over in my mind every day since then, searching for a reason not to take them.
I haven’t found one.
My hands brace against the edge of the sink as I stare into the mirror, once again not recognizing the girl looking back at me. Not only do I not know her, I can’t stand her. There’s something hollow in her eyes, something broken beyond repair.
With a shaky breath, I reach deep into my pocket, fingers searching until they find the cool metal I’ve been carrying. Thefamiliar shape presses into my palm, comforting me. A reminder of what I had.
What we had.
My fingers tighten around the tab before I pull it free, the bathroom light catching on its dull silver surface. For a moment, I just stare at it, my chest tightening, my pulse loud in my ears. Then I open the bottle and pour the pills onto the vanity.
One. Two. Three…
I keep counting.
Eight.
Eight small white pills.
Surely that’s enough.
I gather them into my hand, not letting myself think or feel, before tossing them into my mouth. They catch in my throat immediately, too many at once, and I gag, panic flickering at the edges. I grab the plastic cup beside the sink, fill it with water, and force it down, swallowing hard until the chalky bitterness disappears.
And then?—
Nothing.
Everything inside me stays numb. Still. Just like it’s been since that night.
But when I lift my gaze back to the mirror, something shifts. Something so sudden it knocks the breath from my lungs.
Blue eyes.
Ocean blue.
They aren’t empty.
They aren’t lifeless.
They’re alive.
And staring back into them?—
Toffee-colored eyes.
My heart seizes and panic rips through me.
Oh no.