Hall 12

Confession (REVISED)

(sex at the end whoops)

"That isn't Zoloft."

I turn to Heroin, the Dixie cup of pills in my hand. They look the same as always. Two of them, a bit yellow in color, with a line down the middle and a presence that makes chest relax. They are, and have been since my first day at Helmuth's, 100 milligrams. It's a normal dosage compared to everyone else here, but the way Heroin is staring me down makes me think differently.

We're both sat in my room, on my bed, with a juice box and granola bar split between us. Heroin hasn't eaten in days, his eyes a little dull and wrists so skinny I could wrap my hand around them, but he denies any part of my breakfast that I've offered. I would be with Blue, but she has a therapy session this morning, and I still can't ignore the ache in my chest when I remember how I treated her last night. It was a sleepless night, even with her arms secured around my waist as she snoozed peacefully behind me. I couldn't shoo the voice away. Whenever I shut my eyes, it was in my ears, telling me everything I didn't want to hear, reminding me that something wasn't, and still isn't, right.

"What do you mean?" I ask, dumping the pills out and letting him examine them. "Nurse Joslyn gave me them this morning."

Heroin sifts the pills in his palm, touching and eyeing them closely until he crushes them between his fingers with a knowing smirk.

"They're fake. Zoloft shouldn't crumble. A plastic and wax mixture covers them to protect from the heat. Either the nursing department made a mistake, or someone is making sure you aren't getting the right meds."

It doesn't really sink in until I take the broken pills in my hand and feel the dust between the pads of my fingers.

"I don't understand," I tell him, tossing the cup in the trash, "why would Joslyn give me fake pills?"

Heroin sighs, propping his feet on my desk and laying against the wall. "I doubt it was her, Shakey. She has kids, a family. She wouldn't risk her job by sabotaging some crazy girl's Zoloft."

The term 'crazy' doesn't even faze me.

"That makes sense. It's just..well," I stumble nervously, wringing my hands together. "I haven't felt...good. And these past few weeks have been bad. Me and Blue are fighting. I'm always hungry. I thought it was just the wellbutrin giving me cravings but...who knows if that's actually wellbutrin?"

Heroin shakes his head. "It couldn't be. Wellbutrin makes you lose weight. It dissolves so slowly that it fights off hunger for hours."

"How do you know?'

"I studied medicine before I got into drugs. Almost got my masters 'til I got put in this shithole."

I'm blown away, both by the knowledge that Heroin is actually intelligent and by the fact he has to be right. There'd be no other reason I'd feel the way I do unless I wasn't getting my medication. 

"So what do I do?" I question, my head spinning with anxiety and fear.

Do I tell Blue? What would she do? There's no doubt she'd want to know, but the thought of her freaking out and accusing people makes me want to crawl in a hole and die.

"You'll have to talk to Joslyn. Tell her you haven't been getting the right pills," he tells me, "what about Blue? She deserves to know."

"Know what?"

She appears, like always, out of the shadows. Her hair thrown over her shoulder like an afterthought, her shirt cut around the sides so peeks of her hips and waist are on display, her sweats cut up mid thigh and the toned skin of her legs makes me want to...