In My Head

Contrast ~ Kaden

I open the front door to see Mom waiting in the entryway for us. She has a glass of water. "Oh, thank god." She steps forward. "You realize it's after eleven? Here, take your pills." She hands me the glass and the little white and blue pills.

I already took my meds.

Logan follows me through the door and slams it shut behind him. He still looks kind of out of it, but Mom doesn't notice. She stares at me and fidgets impatiently, so I shove the pills into my mouth, hold them under my tongue, and take a big gulp of water. Yuck, the pills taste really bitter. I try not to make a face as I hand the glass back to Mom. "Going to bed," I say around the tiny pills under my tongue.

"Good night." Mom rubs my back softly. "Sleep well, sweetie. Night, Logan."

Logan mumbles something unintelligent and follows me to the hallway. I spit the pills out into my hand. My mouth is watering, but I don't swallow. I go straight to our bathroom to spit in the sink and rinse my mouth out. Then I go to the bathroom and flush the pills down the toilet.

Back in my room, I strip down to my boxers, take my watch off, and put it on my nightstand. Then back to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face.

Logan's light is still on. I step close to the door. He's sprawled out on his bed, still in his clothes. Passed out drunk.

"Jeez, Logan." I go over and sit on his bed, pull his shoes off. For some dumb reason, Logan made his bed today, so the only way to get him under the covers is to get him off the bed first. He doesn't need a blanket, so I turn and go back to my room, flipping Logan's light off as I leave.

I climb into bed and get comfortable, but for some reason, I don't zonk out like I usually do. I sit up to check the time. 11:19 I should be out like a light by now, but for some reason I just can't sleep.

I stare across the complete blackness of my room until my eyes adjust, and I can see tiny details, like nicely placed contrast in a drawing: the crack between the door and the floor, the line of light around the curtains in the window, and the bright white pill organizer on my dresser.

Then I realize what's up. I'm scared.

It's been a week since the last time I was too scared to fall asleep. Logan got drunk that night too. That must be it. If Logan's passed out drunk, he can't help me if I need it. I roll to my side just in case, because then I might stay safe.

I probably last five minutes before I turn to my back and sigh with exasperation. I hate sleeping on my side. I already went down today, anyways. I've got nothing to be afraid of.

Yeah right, who am I kidding? Just because I already went down today doesn't mean I'm safe.

I roll out of bed and stumble out of my pitch-dark room into the hallway. All the lights are off. I lean against the wall, unable to decide what to do. I won't get any sleep in my own bed tonight. I'll end up going down just from the lack of sleep. Maybe I should go to my parents' room?

No way. Seriously, I'm not five years old. I know that the seizures can kill me in my sleep, but there's just no way I'm going to go sleep with my parents.

I turn around and go back to my room, yank my blanket and pillow off my bed, and go to Logan's room. I drop my stuff on the couch by the door and shuffle up to Logan's bed.

He's snoring softly. The sound calms me down. I know you can drink so much alcohol that it makes you stop breathing. I don't know how much would be too much for Logan, but he drank a lot, and he's kind of a lightweight.

He already puked once, but just in case he throws up again, I think I'd better put him on his side. I fumble in the dark, find his shoulder, and turn him over. He grumbles and then starts snoring again. Logan's snoring has always bothered me, but for some reason, tonight it's making me smile.