Uggghhhh! I am so frustrated! Why am I still stuck in this attic? Why is it that everyone is ignoring my request to get me out of here? I can’t take much more of this…I really can’t! All of this is starting to make my head hurt. Maybe that is a good thing because I haven’t been feeling anything since I have been in this attic.
My head is starting to hurt so bad that I start stumbling around the attic. As I’m moving around, I bump into an old wooden nightstand. There are rings permanently marked in the wood from drinks being set directly on the surface. It could use a good cleaning and polishing, and maybe even a sanding, due to all of the scratches and burn marks that probably hold many secrets. If only its scars could talk.
I pull open the top drawer and jump back, a little startled. The drawer looks like it was snatched straight from a pharmacy or trap house. There are enough prescription pills to take away a lifetime of pain. From the back of the dusty drawer, I pull out a small, black pouch. I unzip the pouch to find a good amount of heroin, some syringes, and a dirty spoon. Who in the world needs this much of a supply?
Before I close the drawer, something on one of the bottles catches my eye. It is a prescription for morphine. You have to be in a lot of pain to have a morphine prescription! As I continue to read the bottle, I see that it is prescribed to April M. McClendon. That’s me! Wait…what? I start scanning all of the bottles, all of which are prescribed to me. There is oxycodone, Xanax, and Valium, just to name a few. Hold up! So if these bottles are mine, then that means the heroin is mine too!
None of this is making any sense right now. My head is pounding! Why is it hurting so badly? As I raise my hands to massage my head, I get a glimpse of my arms. It shocks me so much that I stumble backwards until I’m leaning against a wall for support. Both of my arms contain track marks. Someone could play connect-the-dots along the length of my arms. If that isn’t crazy enough, I see scarring in the webbing between my fingers.
I need a minute, maybe two. Things aren’t making any sense right now. Where is my mommy? Now is the time I really need her to get me out of this attic. Too much stuff is starting to run through my head and I don’t know how to decipher all of it. I have to get out of this attic now! It’s not fun in here anymore.
I have to take something to make my head stop hurting. I go back in the direction of the nightstand but it isn’t there. Where did it go? I know there is something in there to make this pain go away. How does an entire nightstand just up and disappear? I won’t be able to take this pain too much longer.
“Somebody help me!” I’m yelling at the top of my lungs but I hear nothing. I wish I felt nothing too!I have to get out of this attic now! It’s not fun in here anymore. Click To Tweet
Written by Dani Powell, RM Entertainment Original Story Contributor