Fallout

Alleviation

So, today was a ...good day? No, that can't be right.

Riley laid in bed that evening, wide awake. The day's events churned through his head like a machine and he couldn't find the shut-off switch.

Following such a rough start to the day, with his bitter resentment toward his Mom, another awkward car ride with Brad, and then having a bucket of water (and then the aforementioned bucket) dumped on his head, how could Riley not shake the excited feeling in his chest? The little ball of warmth, which took up residence on Christmas morning when he was treated like a true member of the McGrath family, and Brad offered to adopt him was multiplying, taking up more space. It was battling to push out his constant resident misery to make room for what may be happiness.

Riley might have made a friend. Someone came up to him, unprompted, unforced, voluntarily, and spoke with him. And the things he had to say? Nice. Friendly. Funny even. He liked Johnny, and enjoyed their conversation earlier more than he wanted to acknowledge.

And frustratingly enough, the positivity he felt after lunch yesterday was entirely ignoring the blaring warnings and armed defenses that came along with those far off fantasies of hopes and friendships.

Really, it had been long enough since Riley had sworn off friends that he was surprised he was still even receptive to someone trying to be friendly with him. And even more alarming was how much he found that he wanted to be friends with Johnny.

Despite every learned precaution, and the taunting, vitriolic ghoul's constant spew of negativity, Riley hoped that he and Johnny would eat lunch together tomorrow. Maybe they would even be the type of friends who wait at each other's lockers before and after school?

Resolutely turning his back on the ghoul, turning down its volume, Riley let himself indulge in this fantasy. And even Johnny never sent another glance in his direction, he would still have this day to remember. And even if their friendship never evolved beyond sitting together at lunch once in a while, the world-building of what their friendship could have been in his head would be enough to keep him occupied.

Lacking his typical urgency, Riley reached over to his night stand and opened it, lethargically picking up the pill bottle and turning it over in his palm. The hollow sound of only a few pills against plastic was becoming a sound that set off a chain reaction of dread through him.

Riley knew his pill supply was dangerously limited, and that he was lucky to have even gotten this prescription. Each remaining pill should be saved for when he really needed the relief. Physically and emotionally yet, he still found his past tossing him into a dark, dank dungeon and the heavy barred doors slamming shut behind him, the key discarded with a chilled, malicious cackle of which he couldn't discern the origin.

He wasn't that far removed from his previous life, after all.

Still, as much as he wanted to take one and let it sink him into a floaty, pleasant trance before he fell asleep, Riley told himself that this wasn't the time. He knew full and well the consequences of using up limited supplies when no source to get more existed.

Regretfully, he put the bottle back in the drawer and closed it slowly, as though daring himself to change his mind.

Instead, Riley turned off his lamp and laid down, convincing himself that sleep would come and that he could drown out the bullying roar in his subconscious.

Closing his eyes, Riley settled into the McGrath family nightly routine. The beeping of the alarm system being activated. The stairs creaking as Brad walked up, Murph's jingling collar not far behind. The dog stopped to sniff and pant at each kid's room before settling himself by Sharon's side of the bed with a weighty humph.