Don't Drug Me

Don't Drug Me

"Take this pill.

"It's pink.

"Take it, it'll do you good. He pushed the pill into my hand. I refused to grasp it and it tumbled to the ground. "Why the hell'd you do that? He grabbed my wrist and forced my fingers down. They squashed against the floorboards.

"I don't want to take it, I said, refusing to curl my fingers about the pill. "It's too big, anyway. I couldn't swallow that.

"You'll swallow it yourself, or I'll shove it down your throat. If you choke it'll be your own god-damned fault.

"What's it for?

"You're depressed. He let me sit back up, and placed the pill in my palm for the second time. I let it lie there.

"No, I'm not. I looked at the pill. It nestled in my hand like a large plump maggot.

"You are, and you need the medicine.

"Where'd you get it?

"Where'd you think?

"Can't be the doctors, I never went. I turned it in my palm, flip-flopping it around.

"I got them from someone who knows about this.

"But there's tons of it! I picked up the box from the table. "There's hundreds in here!

"He gave me enough for six months.

"Do I need that much?

"Yes. He sounded tired of this debate. I placed the box back on the table wondering when he'd force my jaw open. "Take the pill.

"Are you sure it'll help?

"Yes, he said. He thought I might agree, and I could hear the relief coat his voice. It was palpable.

"But what's it going to help? I'm not depressed.

"Take the fucking pill, would you! Why do you make me do this? He charged at me, all the way from across the room. I hardly had time to take a breath. One of his forearms slammed into my throat, and we toppled as one on the back legs of my chair. We landed with him in a straddle around me, his arm still pressing down on my throat. His other hand held the pill high above.

"Open wide.

The game was done. I let my jaw fall slack, he in return released a little of the pressure on my neck. Silver stars danced as oxygen retuned to my brain. I lay my tongue across my teeth. He placed the pill and I withdrew it into my mouth. With a dry swallow, the pink maggot went down.

"There. Don't you feel better now? he said as he climbed off. I remained on the ground - still sitting on the chair, only up had changed. I felt the pill dissolve, felt it send feelers to numb my emotions. More feelers grew, threading through my muscles and filling them with lead. One of my legs flopped to the side. I let it stay there with my femininity exposed.

My eyes rotated to meet his. I could see that he was still waiting for an answer. My mind whispered, "No. This was not the answer, and my lips trembled, spilling words for him to hear. "Much better now.