The lights on Bowen, yellow and red and green, and the streetlights blaring like a circus. The colors swirled in a confusing and terrifying jumble, causing me to run. I wanted to outrun the swaying street and traffic lights.
I ran up my driveway to the back porch, grabbed the door knob, and turned it. The door was unlocked. Good, because I didn’t have my keys. I shut the door behind me—no I slammed it, because in my drunken state that’s all I knew how to do was slam—and held onto it to keep myself standing straight up. The kitchen wobbled, the floor wouldn’t stop coming toward me, then the yellow-gold stove was at an angle, now the sink was going away from me and the refrigerator pulled me forward. How do I make this stop? How do I make this stop?
Paul wouldn’t even look at me. The expression that had been on his face said, “I don’t even know you.”
It was all my fault. Glinda was right about me. I was no good. Now Lucy was bleeding. I shouldn’t have told Potty Mouth. I shouldn’t have told her, and now Lucy was bleeding because I wouldn’t stop seeing Paul, because I couldn’t do the right thing. She was bleeding and it was all my fault. I was a terrible person.
I grabbed for the shelf over the sink, grabbed that economy-sized bottle like it was a life raft. I drank the entire bottle with no liquid.
Oh no! Now I’m going to die. I don’t want to die.
I grabbed the phone, which seemed again to be moving and moving. I had to pounce on it to hold it still. I dialed 911.
“I just took a bunch of pills. My address? Oh, it’s um, let me think, um...”
The floor finally succeeded in its attempt to come up and hit me in the face.
Then I heard this strange sound. Sirens. I lay on the floor wondering vaguely, Who’s that for?
THE END
Table of Contents
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY ONE
TWENTY TWO
TWENTY THREE
TWENTY FOUR
TWENTY FIVE
TWENTY SIX
TWENTY SEVEN
TWENTY EIGHT
TWENTY NINE
THIRTY