Pain Killer

1 ~ Drowning Sorrows in Powdered Donuts and Sweet Potatoes

"Why is it weird to say I'm drowning my sorrows in sweet potatoes, but it's not weird to say I'm drowning my sorrows in chocolate? I really feel like society has failed us in some way." I ramble, looking out over the gently flowing river I sit above, my legs dangling like carefree noodles. My flats hang on my toes and the temptation to just let them slide off plagues my mind.

Silence buzzes through the phone's speaker as I stare at the ever-moving water and I rest my elbows on the bar in front of me. Not waiting for a response, I turn to my container of sweet potato disks, stabbing one with my fork and shoving the whole thing into my mouth.

"You know, Delilah, I think you really should get therapy." Martha sighs, bringing the subject back to that depressing part of what I'm desperately trying to ignore.

I roll my eyes, still chewing my mouthful of heaven. "Give it a break," I say with my cheeks full. "You and I both know we can't afford that and besides, I have sweet potatoes."

Martha doesn't even offer a laugh. "Just eat chocolate like a normal person. Then maybe people will start to notice something's wrong."

"You know that's the last thing I want them to see."

"Yeah, I know." She sighs again. "I wish I could help you, somehow. I just-I don't know what to do-I mean, I feel so bad for... for ignoring you for so long and pretending everything is fine and-"

"Hey, hey," I cut in, not wanting to hear another word. I hate it when she gets like this. Her whole personality shifts into this sad lump of depressing anxiety like she's trying to make up for the emptiness I feel and the emotions I can't seem to bring to the surface. "It's alright, really. None of this is your fault and none of this is your responsibility to somehow... somehow fix. Kay?" I study the fork's prongs, wondering what would happen if I suddenly jammed them into my leg. How deep would they go?

"I just don't want to lose you." Her tone is defeated and whiny. Whatever I said, it seemed to totally fly past her.

I roll my eyes, frustrated. "I'm good as long as I have sweet potatoes." I try to comfort my aunt, waiting to hang up.

"Okay, did you take your meds today?"

"Yes." Probably.

"Where are you?"

"On my way home." Just taking a detour. Kind of.

"Do you need anything from the store?"

"No, I'm going to hang up now," I announce, pulling the phone away from my ear.

"Okay, love you!" Martha jams in before I push the red button.

"Yep." I set my phone next to the sweet potatoes and look down at my dangling flats as they hang off of my toes. It would be an interesting picture. If only I had remembered to bring my camera. The blue of the water seems a bit brighter than normal, or perhaps that's just the contrast of my navy skirt and dark blue shoes. So many different hues of blue. It would be a lovely photo.

The idea of watching my flats slip off my toes tickles my imagination. I suddenly feel so tempted to watch them fall... They're so close...

What would it be like if I were these flats?

They are so close to freedom, merely latched onto my toes, they could let go so easily. Just a little nudge. That's all it would take.

All it would take is a little nudge. I scoot an inch off the side, my knees dipping a little further down toward the running river.

Just a little nudge.

"Thinking about taking a swim?"

I almost lose my flats as I flinch, gripping the bar in surprise. Looking up, I see the voice's owner sit down beside me, a wide grin pushing out freckle-covered cheeks.