Now that the trial has been put to rest, Rueben believes that life is on an upward trend. It's not long before he understands he is sadly mistaken.
Around every corner lies a new demon lurking with the desire to rip the rug out from under him. He m...
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𝗘den hurriedly closed the door to her shared room with Blaine and ran toward the bathroom on the tips of her toes, not wanting to cause any suspicion through her movements, even if no one could hear her through the walls regardless.
She bolted into the bathroom and instantly crouched down to the ground in front of the sink cabinet. She popped it open, and began to reach inside, when she stopped. Ever since this started to take over her mind again, her paranoia has skyrocketed. She had so many people who were depending on her – two of them who wanted only the best for her.
If they knew that her problem was a problem again, they'd be so disappointed in her.
Eden peaked around the open bathroom door, scanning her room to see if Blaine had returned from the beach – or if Maverick was popping in for a quick visit. He'd been doing that often since her accident at the Docks. She loved him to death, but man, he could be so overbearing at times.
Seeing no one, she ducked her head into the wooden box and reached all the way in the back, under a couple of rags and spare bottles of hand soap. She sighed, seeing the little orange and white container of pills resting right where she left them when they arrived this morning.
During the flight, she started to feel empty – like she was coming off of her high, so she took the spare pills she kept in the front pocket of her pants to keep her afloat. They seemed to last for a while since she started doing them again, but the more pills she seemed to take, the less the effect lasted.
The last time she was in this predicament, she had the same issues – but those pills were a tad stronger. She could go a whole day off of five or six pills, but with these, the effects were hardly the same. She started with two pills, but in less than a week, that wasn't cutting it.
Now, she was up to four. About to start five if it didn't work the way she wanted.
Eden unscrewed the cap and poured four of the little white pills onto her palm. She hesitated, wondering if she should dump one more out for the sake of it, but she decided against it, capping the medicine. She had to keep up her normal attitude around her friends, or they'd notice too fast. Much too fast. She didn't want to go to rehab; she knew they'd send her there.
Plus, Franki has already been up her ass about her stutter. It was just a matter of time before the rest of the team figured out that she was not taking ibuprofen for her 'back pain' but was rather drowning in the feeling that Vicodin gave her.
She shoved the pills into her mouth and was about to stash the bottle again when the creak of the bathroom door made her freeze in place. The sound of a footstep near her made her blood crack – splintering into different versions of emotions.
Scared to be caught.
Nervous to be a disappointment.
Annoyed that she couldn't swallow the pills without water.
