taste | e.d

eighteen

Ethan

It feels like there is nothing I can do besides drink.

It's been two weeks since I saw her for the last time.

I stopped taking my antidepressants. I stopped taking my pills for insomnia. I stopped taking my anxiety meds. I stopped caring about eating.

I miss her.

I've spent too long missing people.

So I'll drink their memory away.

•••

Shannon comes over for some stupid reason.

I guess she feels obligated to take care of me since her best friend was in love with me.

The migraines have gotten worse and are occurring more frequently.

Shannon's harsh knocking only makes my head pound even more.

"What do you want?" I say, swinging the door open.

"Are you drunk?"

"No. My head hurts."

"But you've been drinking. You're a mess."

My hair is lazily draped over my forehead, and I only wear a pair of black sweats.

"I'm not inviting you in but you'll do it anyway so." I walk away, leaving the door open.

"Where is all your alcohol?"

"I don't think I'm going to tell you that," I say.

"You're going to. I'll search every centimeter of this place if you don't tell me."

"Go ahead." I'll just buy some more later.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" she asks me.

"Because I don't deserve to remember her."

She looks at me for a moment before putting her hand on my back and shoving me to the couch.

"Stop pushing me," I say. But she keeps her hand on me until I drop on the cushions. She goes to my fridge and grabs a cold water bottle, handing it to me with the lid screwed off.

She sets her purse down on the coffee table, unzipping it and digging through it until she comes up with three pill containers.

"You're not making me take those," I say.

"Do it for her, Ethan. Because it's your fault she's gone."

She puts two pills in my palm.

"You're not helping," I say.

"Trying to sober you up and take your medicine isn't helping?"

"I want to–"

"She'd hate you if she knew you were trying to forget her. Grayson, too."

As I stare at the round pellets, my hand begins to shake uncontrollably. It's been like that all the time now. If I try to hold something, no matter how hard I concentrate, my hand will have a mind of its own.