1 HAPPY PILLS

Chapter One:

Plaguing my senses with discomfort was an unfamiliar roughness, a roughness that sunk into my back like a dull knife; rigid and more notorious regardless of the blood it never drew.

A brittle groan escaped my chapped lips as I steadily sat up, my eyes opening in accordance with the pace, revealing the precious irises that sat beneath. My head inched over to the left, allowing my eyes to scan the rest as my eyebrows became furrowed with confusion.

Where the hell am I? I thought, irritated that despite my pupils being on full display, I saw nothing but a thick void that grinned back at me.

Within the distance, I made out nearly muted sounds of droplets. My fingers grazed the walls; I felt wrinkles and roughness. My nose sniffed out the scent of dirt and debris. The air tasted like something, but I couldn't quite put a finger on what it could be.

It was then I was proposed my first supplement of choice. Do I sit here and wait for someone to come help me or do I girl boss this shit and help myself? The answer was obvious, if there was one thing about me, I was never reliant on other people. Thus, I chose the latter.

I tried to feel for the ground, but whilst doing that, I ended up slipping on the rock and fell right on my ass. The agony instantly zipped through my veins and right up my throat where I released it in a groan, "fuck."

I sat there for a few seconds, my face mildly tense as I waited for the pain to pass and it was only then that I noticed my voice still bouncing off the walls in the distance. Right then and there the thought hit me: I must be in a cave.

For a moment, up my cheeks there trailed a smile, but soon, it trailed all the way back down. I'm in a cave. I'm in a goddamn cave. How the hell did I even?- Drilled my mind while my head whipped around aimlessly as if my eyes could adapt to such intense darkness.

There are hundreds of hazards within a cave and a cave with darkness too. Was I doomed? Or was I just doomed? As quietly as it was humanely possible, I stood up and planned to use such steadiness to find a way out.

I thought back to that one article I read out of boredom. 'Hold hands to move through the darkness to make sure no one gets lost.' I presumed there was no one else there, so no trouble there. 'Stay warm and dry.' The air was lukewarm, and I remember being completely dry. 'Put a plastic back in your helmet to preserve the warmth.' I wore no helmet and there was no way I could get a plastic bag. But that was okay, the air, it was cool. 'Make a trail so you wouldn't be moving in circles.' There was nothing I could make a trail with. Removing my clothes would be an option, but it wouldn't make a long enough trail and I couldn't risk getting hypothermia. I needed to conserve as much heat as I could.

All right. Let's go. I told myself, wetting my lips with my tongue before biting onto my bottom lip.

So there I was, navigating through the void that seemed to expand with every step I took. In complete contrast to what I had expected, the air became thick with vehemence, converting the carbon dioxide into heat waves that'd circle back to me as if as a means of vengeance.

Exasperated, I continued to thread silently through the anxious atmosphere in a straight line. How could a cave possibly be so hot? What, was it artificial? I thought, smiling at the unfunny joke I made to myself.

I tried holding in my breath, truly thinking it was the carbon dioxide that turned against me. It wasn't.

On the brink of tears from exhaustion and being so fucking done with that shit, a veritable miracle revealed angelically before my eyes. A faded glow stood vibrant in contrast to the darkness as it slowly swayed and flickered in the distance.

Like a baby starved from seeing their parent after being locked away in daycare all day, my face gleamed with pure glee as I ran toward it. It was the kind of glee only the young and oblivious would have, the kind of glee that'd make a person sick with depression smile, the kind of glee that was so pure and so precious that knowing it'd only last a few seconds, you'd savor every moment before you'd be brought back to the sack of shit that is your life.

Never in a million fucking years did I think I'd be so glad to see a goddamned light bulb. But there I was and sadly, it was the peak of my happiness. The happiest my life has ever gotten and probably will get.

Anyway, beneath the bulb, there was a table and upon the table, there was a palm-sized rock holding down a piece of paper, and next to them was a refreshing glass of water.

My fingers, by instinct, wrapped around the glass and downed half of it. Kidding, I'd rather fucking die than drink water from whomever the hell rested that there.

All right, fine. I did that, and it was only until I downed half of the water that I saw a pill on the table and took it.

Okay, that was reckless, I know. But what was the worse that could've happened? The pill was for either one of three things: to get me high, to heal me, or to kill me. And to be honest, at that point and now, I'd be just fine with any of the consequences, which is also, I know, depressive as shit, but hey, that's me.

I downed the rest of the water and rested the glass on the desk. My eyes peered down at my clothes. I had on a once-white vest that was now blotched with dirt stains -- dirt stains that matched the ones on my skin and the camouflage khaki pants that grazed right above my ankles. There was a brown leather strap around my thigh with two daggers laced in blood. What the hell was I doing before this? I thought, wait... what was I doing before this?

I forced my brain to come up with something, but I formed nothing. My mouth was mildly set open, my brows lowered in confusion as I stood before the paper that provided all answers.

I picked it up, and it read words I can't remember, even though I've read the same kind of thing a million times. My memories are still suggestive, you see. I could only remember what I thought and how I felt. I don't know why, but I'm really trying to figure that out.

So after I read the paper, I remember reading it over and over again, stunned at whatever the hell that damned paper said, then I noticed something on the back of my hand. It was moving. There was something in my fucking hand.

Startled, I release a yelp that zealously leaped from wall to wall. Ignoring this, I grabbed the rock, laid my hand on the table, and smashed it into whatever was inside me. The rock left an absolute trail up my arm of red as I followed the foreign movement from within.

It trailed up my neck, and I dropped the rock. I leaned against the table, causing it to fall over and send the glass smashing onto the ground. The sound was nothing but the background as my nerves rebounded throughout my body with an untameable amount of vivacity. My heart pumped blood through my veins, propelling the movement into my cheek.

I strained my voice with the level of pitch my sheiks excelled too, using my fingers as an attempt to push the thing down, but it only found another way to go. Finally, it reached the area behind my eye.

Everything slowed down and for a second my screams carried not a sound. The silence was so unsettling that it made my body quiver with uncertainty, so unsettling that you'd just want to tear your head in half to avoid it, so unsettling that you could hear the thing as it scraped out the inner part of your eye, devouring it all the while.

Its tiny teeth grinding lurid in your ear as you could do nothing but stand by as it happened.

Suddenly, the time came back to attend to its duty, and the thing ripped through the last layers of my eye, exploding out and expanding horrifically in its size.

I stood there in unequivocal revelation, the lagging pain slowly catching up with me, but before I could release a fraction of the pain into my screaming, a bell rang, and suddenly pilfered from my body was the ability to move. My face was neutral and my muscles disabled as I fell face-first into the hard, scathing rock that laid unmoved before me.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐧𝐞𝐰, 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐢𝐜.

𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐝𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐈'𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤.

𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝 (𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭), 𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐩.

•

𝐉𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰.

•

𝐎𝐤𝐚𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐰. 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 :)

 BLACKWIDOW_READS

1536