the replacement project :: c.h.

eleven » pills and threats

a/n- hey friends! it's been so long, i'm sorry. it's been extremely hectic and i know thats the typical author excuse for when a story isn't updated in a while but i promise that i really am not joking- it's been a seriously stressful past couple days. this isn't even too long of a chapter so im sorry about that but i still think it's kind of interesting tbh! i'm going to start improving my schedule again, and i'll get to work on chapter twelve asap! :-)

i love you guys, thank you for sticking with me.

stay happy, 

x bri. 

-

[ cara ] 

I took in a large breath before tossing the pill into my mouth, picking up the glass from the countertop of the island and swallowing a large gulp of water to help the pill go down smoothly. 

It was gross, and slightly depressing. Which was an ironic thought, to be honest, considering these were antidepressants. 

In all honesty, I didn't think they were necessary. I didn't feel like I needed them to be happier, to ease the anxiety. Personally, I thought that I could do that on my own. All I needed was the right mindset, and the right people around me. I'd dealt with the anxiety for so long up until the night of the dream and I was positive that if I tried, I'd surely be able to get it back under control again. But my parents had already paid for the pills, which weren't refundable, and spent a petrifying amount of money- there really wasn't any going back now.

I didn't want to disappoint them.

I exhaled loudly and deeply, sinking deeper into the seat of the kitchen bar stool, shutting my eyes for a moment. It wasn't like I'd felt any of the pill's crazy kick-ins or whatever, but it was all insanely surreal when you thought about it- the dream, the pills, the anxiety attack, the feeling of not being able to breathe- it made lumps in my throat form. A cold, freshly-manicured hand getting placed on top of mine pulled me out of my thoughts. "Feeling alright?" 

I pressed my lips into a thin, small smile for my Mom's sake. "Fine. Great. Um, thank you guys again for.. you know,"

She smiled warmly at me, her eyes a silent apology. Ever since the dream, all my Mom had done was apologize to me, claiming that "as a mother, she should'e known." I didn't mind, really- I found it all kind of endearing. It only hurt because of the fact that unlike Mom, Dad hadn't really done anything to show he even gave a shit about any of this- other than pull out his wallet and pay for my meds, of course. 

But his face didn't twitch in concern when Dr. Williams concluded that I had a general anxiety disorder. He didn't ask me if I was okay after that, but God forbid he forget to ask about the price of the antidepressants. 

"I'm glad," Dad cleared his throat, eyeing me from across the kitchen island, shutting his laptop lid. I fought the urge to roll my eyes- he was doing work at 9 in the morning instead of consuming the most important meal of the day, inspiring. "but I think we do need to talk about the fact that you snuck out the other night, El- even after I told you to stay in your room. We tried cal-"

"Mark," Mom's tone was sharp and annoyed as she glowered at her husband from across the island. "she just had an anxiety attack. Get off of her back."

"What she did wasn't right, Marissa." 

"That's not what's important at the moment, incase you haven't noticed!" She suddenly rose her voice, shooting up from her bar stool and making her way over to him. I sat back in my seat, pretty shocked to say the least. Overall, I loved my Mom, and I knew that my mom loved me. But it'd been while since I'd heard her raise her voice at Dad, or raise her voice in general. Whenever it did happen, though, even people in South Africa were scared shitless. "Do you not understand that this is your kid?! Cara is at a rough place at the moment, Mark, we all are. It's insensitive of you as a Father to penalize her right now!"