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𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬𝗙𝖨𝗩𝗘 - T is for Trauma
𝗔𝗙𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗟𝖮𝗡𝗚
arduous day she had, Rory wanted nothing more than to retire to bed, effectively ending the night off. Since she was still a minor, the summer was the only time she could actually get overtime without getting in trouble.
She changed into comfier clothes and prepared to administer her grandmother's nightly medication which consisted of six different pills of various shapes and sizes. "Grams, it's time to take your meds."
No response.
Rory noticed that one particular medication was missing. It was Adele's Carbamazepine, the most expensive among the pharmaceuticals. What the hell? She heard the bathroom door slam shut, and the sounds of Adele scrambling about inside. "Grams?"
Her eyes widened when she realized.
The pills dropping on the counter sounded like marbles as Rory dashed to the bathroom, nearly slipping because of the lack of traction on her socks. Rory pounded on the door, and jiggled the door handle, frantically urging Adele to open up. "Grams, come on, open the door." She pleaded, reaching no avail, "Grams! Don't flush them —please."
She tried to think fast on her feet, brushing her messy hair out of her face, eyes frantically searching for a way in. Rory backed up and landed a harsh kick on the wooden door, effectively breaking it open. "What are you doing?! —No!"
Adele was kneeling by the toilet, ready to pour the meds in. Rory ran in, standing in disbelief as she watched the horrific scene in front of her. Luckily Adele struggled to get the cap off, offering Rory more time to save them. "No—get your damn hands off me!" Adele screamed maniacally, fighting Rory off who tried to snatch the bottle away. "You —and these damn pills —trying to kill me—I won't let you!"
