Breakfast in Bed

On the nightstand was a bottle of Chardonnay and a single glass, already emptied. Next to the cheap corner store alcohol, five prescription bottles have been lined up side by side. Each one of them now emptied and the contents scattered in a rainbow of capsules on the bed. The background is filled with Breakfast in Bed by Dntel feat. Conor Oberst, and she remembers a time not too long ago when those lyrics represented a love she thought would last forever. “There are things we do, that we’re really not allowed. We can say anything, but we just can’t say it loud.”  
 
Pink. Blue. White. Yellow.  
 
So colorful that it was almost artwork, like a beautiful painting of an ending so incredibly ugly. The panic was rising and the pressure in her head was throbbing. “Just do it.” Whispered the shadowed figure from over her shoulder, “Swallow them.” She closed her eyes, listening to Conor's voice sing to her as she tried to grip reality. “I hope you always find someone to take you home, to put you into bed, kiss your cheek and check your pulse. Make sure you’re still breathing, with their hand up to your nose.” Unable to stop the shaking and with tears streaming down her face--  
  She began to swallow..  
 
               One pink.  
 
                       Three blue.  
 
                                 Four white.  
 
                                          Another pink.  
 
And she listened to the ending of the song she now loathed, “I wish that could be me, but it’s just not possible.” In her head was the voice of the lover who left her, telling her the junkies all deserved to die. The world would be a far better place, he told her. She wondered if his opinion would change when the dead junkie was the girl he once called his soul mate. She imagined his reaction, standing over her lifeless body still containing that deadly syringe. Would he feel differently? Would his world be a better place with one less junkie-- or would she make him eat his hateful words? With shadow people still watching, she smiled to herself. It was almost sick how happy she was just thinking about his broken heart. Sleep deprived and disturbed; she laughed while swallowing the entire bottle, tomorrow she'll wake up in a pool of her vomit.. wishing she had gone to bed before day 9-- wait, day 11? Too long for those pretty eyes to remain open, sleep.. sleep.