it's me
from a dream.
not in reality,
in your mind
whispering those sweet
yet bitter thoughts…

She sits on her bed, on the edge, silently concentrating on a patch of rug. The front door slams, sending a visible spasm through her body. Parents away. Home alone. Somewhat comforting. She shifts her weight, the bed squeaking slightly. Still uncomfortable, she stands up and walks to her bathroom. Leaning over the sink, she stares right into the eyes of her reflection, a piercing gaze, pupils shrinking a little, irises alive in green rings. Her image is swept away as she opens the medicine cabinet. The shelves contain and assortment of bottles, deodorant, and feminine products. She reaches for a bottle, grabs it, and closes the cabinet quickly, as though someone would walk in. Her feet rush her out of the room and into another

Paranoia over takes her mind, as she pauses, listening for any uncommon sounds floating from downstairs. After assuring herself of privacy, she climbs safely onto her bed, covers soft beneath her body. The bottle is played among her hands; thrown, juggled, and twirled. Procrastination is her strong point, and she is using it well.

After moments of stalling, she finally places the bottle down. A glass of water stands beside it. Panicked thoughts crowd her mind. She takes the bottle and removes the lid. She floods pills into her hand and puts the container in its original place. She clutches the pills tightly, a nervous feeling running down her spine. They are dropped onto the bed, the cup of water replacing them in her hand. She takes a single pill, places it in her mouth, takes a sip of water, and closes her eyes.

one by one
the pills run down
her muted throat,
this distressed girl
with no where to go.

The last pill slips down her throat. Drowsiness overpowers her body. The now empty glass is set aside, and she buries herself beneath layers of blankets. Her position assures comfort, pillow perfectly set beneath her head, body sprawled upon her mattress. Her eyelids fluttered briefly. She turned off the light. Alert eyes now clouded and tired. How did it feel to know this breath would be her last? This sight, the last she'd ever see? The sounds of her soft, now faded breathing to be the last thing ever to fall upon her ears? To this girl, it felt beautiful.