**My Entry for AMLKoski's Give Back Contest: Bitter Winter**
Alexandra Winters didn't have a problem --she had a diagnosis. It just so happened that her ADHD made it necessary for her to take amphetamines, and it just so happened that her school...
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Alex's blood crackles with electricity, she's so excited and inspired that it's giving her a jolt of energy. All week her classes seemed to drone on, even the normally engaging chatter of her friends became background noise while she pieces together her color palette, intent on finding the perfect combination. They go their separate ways when class ends on Wednesday, but Alex chooses to ditch at the last minute. She's too hyped up over the project, she has to work on it while the idea is vivid and alive. She runs her finger over the tiny hidden pocket of her art bag, 3 pills, plus the bottle tucked into her pocket last minute —it's more than she normally takes, but under the circumstances, it would be worth it. She was even able to book one of the private studio rooms so that she wouldn't be disturbed. Confident, and maybe a little bit smug, she doesn't second-guess herself when she pops two pills at the same time, chasing it down with a cold soda.
Alex's whole being is on fast forward, there's no better way to describe it. If her mind was an engine, she's running on nitrous oxide. Her thoughts aren't bullets from a pistol anymore, it's now rapid fire from a freaking machine gun. She's on fire.
It's laughable how ridiculous her feelings were before. How worried she was, how uncertain. She's got this. She's on fire.
Everything is laid out in perfect order for her to use -- finally, now that she has her supplies. Violet, turquoise, plum, and gray paints are lined up like little soldiers, and piled high behind them are 3 shopping bags full bottles and blister packs of every white, cheap, generic pill she could find.
It had come to her when she was pondering how to bring out the 'bitter' aspect of their project theme. If she wanted to spin the winter thing as herself, then the question became: what made Alexandra "Violet" Winters bitter? There was only one clear answer to that, and it sends inspiration tumbling through her like an avalanche.
She pops another amphetamine pill into her mouth and smiles before she knocks it back with a swig from her water bottle. She was always better about drinking enough water when she was high -is she going to admit that now? Maybe. Probably. She doesn't really care anymore. The need for water has more to do with her constant dry mouth rather than a sudden desire to be healthy or anything... She might not have any desire to eat, but at least she was properly hydrated.
She rattles the bottle in her palm and counts. Ten. She has ten pills left. When she had started a few hours ago, she had 13— not including the three in her bag that she's already taken. Alex tilts her head back onto her shoulders and squints at the ceiling, the tiles are blurry. She decides then that she will take no more than three to get herself through the rest of the night, after that, she will have to let it go and hope for the best. She may be willing to push her limit a little to get this project done, but she isn't trying to kill herself.
With that thought, she trades the pill bottle for a paint brush and gets to work. Fuzzy ceiling tiles be damned.
It's dark when she finally leaves Calder Hall, thick gloomy clouds blot out the moonlight and Alex has to rely on street lamps to light her way back to the dorms. She was surprised at how quickly she was able to complete her artwork — when she looks round her and realizes she has no idea what time it is, she wonders if maybe she didn't get it done that quickly, really. She had to get it perfect, and she can admit that it was a struggle there at then end...when she took her last pill and her hands started shaking. Despite all that, she can't think of any reason why she wouldn't be a top contender for the award. She isn't arrogant enough to think it's a sure thing, but she's confident in her work.
Alex's residence hall is one of three clustered together at the edge of town, right next to the cafeteria and the gym. It was like a small community of it's own and the only set of buildings that weren't restored. They were brand new, modern constructions that catered to the specific needs of art students living on-campus full time. It was quiet in the Common room, but at this time on a weeknight, it was expected. What she didn't expect, was a familiar group of faces tracking her from a small seating area to the side of the room. Barry stands up and stalks past her, not before he pauses long enough to grind out, "about god damn time you showed up." He doesn't wait for an answer, and bounces his hard shoulder against her as he leaves —back to his own dorm in the other building. Annabel and Maya stand and leave before Alex makes it to them. Annabel is clearly angry, but Maya gives her a small smile and a wave before she disappears around the corner.
Matt and Ezekiel are the only ones left, and being the coward she is, Alex stares intently at the geometric pattern on the floor rather than see the hurt look on her boyfriends face. She hates that she disappointed her friends when she forgot their movie date, but hurting Matt over something so stupid, so preventable, gutted her. She never really felt like she deserved a guy as devoted and loving as Matt, and her selfish antics only prove it. She hears the leather couch creak and groan, the air shifts as a body walks around her. Certain that he has left her, her body jolts when Matt's warm hand engulfs her own. Like the night before, he doesn't speak as he leads her to his room, this time it's a different kind of anticipation that builds — the dreaded sort, like walking to the guillotine. Ezekiel is already in his loft bed, the glow of his laptop casts his dark skin in an eerie light. Matt wastes no time ridding them of their shoes before he pulls her into the bed with him. He clings to her body with a tight grip, as if she could disappear any second. He kisses the tender skin of her exposed collar and whispers, "I love you, my violet sunshine. To the moon and back."
He's treating her like he's trying to keep as wisp of smoke in a jar, it's unnerving and makes Alex wonder if he thinks it was more than just her missing a movie. She can't figure out a way to console him without compounding the lies, which would just make everything worse. Alex chokes on a sob -trying so hard to express just how much she means the words- when she answers him, "to the moon and back."
