Elitism

Enlightenment

[Trigger Warning: Self Harm and Mental Illness]

Scene 1

Present Day

Jefferson's Apartment

Jefferson woke up to the sound of his phone's ringtone, a metal cover of "Criminal" by Fiona Apple. After pressing the snooze button on his phone, he dragged himself to his study desk, which faced his bed. 

I can no longer do this, he thought as he faced his dozens of unread emails. Most of them related to the upcoming "common test", which occurred once every quarter. He was in no shape or form ready for any of his tests, especially in Math, in which he had always performed well and was afraid to disappoint Ms Johnson. Neither was he ready to continue to sell his life to Bell Curve God.

He went back to lie on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He watched as the ceiling fan's blades threw shadows moving rhythmically across the top stretches of the walls. Lots of thoughts flashed through his mind, from how he was never going to go to a good college if he were to continue like this, to how he felt like an absolute failure in life, having had help at almost every stage of his life. 

Everything is crumbling. My love, my grades, my worth. I never was worth much anyway, I am just the painfully average student at a school I don't deserve to be in. No one will miss me when I'm gone.

"Just give me some serotonin!" he screamed into his pillow, desperately begging to cry. Jefferson had never cried since he was a teenager. Not when his grandparents passed, not when he failed his examinations, never. He knew that it was unhealthy to not be able to cry, because he would resort to other things.

He turned to face the other side of the room, away from his desk. The symptoms had started to set in: he felt a sense of strange tension in his stomach, feeling neither hungry nor full, even though the last time he ate was 18 hours ago. His palms were slightly clammy, his head heavy, and his lips were very dry.

If I can just hold on for longer, I don't need to eat for the rest of the day. I'll see the doctor later.

He looked back at his study desk, squinting at the missed emails.

He got up from the bed and walked drunkenly toward his closet. He opened the drawer and took out a small bag with pills. Pills that he had been saving for this occasion.

Scene 1B

One week ago, Jefferson was chatting on an internet forum about depression, to with user named Ray1996XY. Ray had been through much worse than Jefferson, changing psychiatrists and treatments multiple times to no avail. 

Are you taking SSRIs? Ray asked Jefferson, who replied that he did.

How do they make you feel? Jefferson replied that they did little to help, working for just a few hours at a time, and never restoring him to "normal".

I get you, bro. Last year I started trying something new, because none of this shit worked for me. So I have to take double doses of my meds everyday, and so I skipped the night one for about a week. After about a week of saving the extras, I had enough to take them all at one shot, giving me happiness for a couple days at a time.

"Were there side effects?" Jefferson asked, intrigued but wary. 

Not much, just a high heart rate, sweating and not being able to come. But I'll take that in exchange for a couple days of feeling like a normal person again. I think you should try it too.

"I will, when I get low enough, thanks man!" Jefferson replied. Ray1996XY appeared to add him as a friend, before immediately logging out of the forum.

Scene 1C