The BiPolar Project

The Pills

Elaina

When I was ten I had two friends over. Jake was eleven (and a half) as he always made it known that he was older than me by a few months. Makenzie was also ten. Everything went as usual. We watched Kiddo T.V. as my dad called it, ate popcorn and pizza.

It all changed in a matter of seconds when the authorities came and ripped Makenzie away from us. My mom said it had to be done to protect us. I was young. I was considered normal. I was safe.

After both of my friends left, never to be seen or heard from again, my parents argued a lot. It was loud and scary. I could do nothing besides cry as my whole world ended. I'm not even over exaggerating. Life as I knew it was over. The towns around the area became less populated, I had no friends and my family was falling apart.

Later that night my dad confided a secret in me and gave me a mission. I was told to go to Jake's house and drop off Jake's medication. "Mean people are taking away something that helps Jake." My father tried to sugar coat it, but I found out the truth as I grew older. Not the truth the government wanted us to know, the real truth.

"Why do they want to take it away from Jake?" My dad sighed.

"Jake isn't like a lot of people. He's different." Is till didn't understand, but I did what I was told and headed to Jake's house without my mother knowing. She thought I was in bed.

The car that was usually at Jake's house was gone and the lights were off. I knocked but no one was there. Another day I thought. In my mind we had forever to see each other.

When I got back home my mom was waiting for me at the door. Panic rushed over me. "Elaina! Where were you at this time of night?" I couldn't lie, she was my mother. I could trust her. She wouldn't want Jake or me or anyone to get hurt. I told her.

"I was at Jake's to give him medicine so the mean people won't hurt him."

"What?"

"Dad said-" She cut me off.

"Oh! 'Daddy said' Daddy's an Anarchist!" She taunted my father's way of thinking as if it were some sick joke. At the time I thought Anarchy and Anti-Christ were the same and my mom never told me any different so I ended up being afraid of my father until they separated and later divorced. "What medicine?" She asked in a demanding and threatening tone. I was afraid of the wrong parent back then...

I gave her the bottle. She snatched it and read the label. "Jacob P. Flier. BiPolar Disorder." She read aloud. She gave me a amused yet mean smirk and patted my head.

'What are you going to do?"

"End crime rates." She picked up the phone and walked out of the room so I couldn't hear her phone conversation.