Wake Up Call

"I chime in..."

I open my eyes as Panic! at the Disco screams from my cell, trying desperately to wake me up. I throw a hand at it and hit the snooze button by nothing short of dumb luck. Had it been Blue October, I'd need to move a lot faster and with New Found Glory I'd have to call my boss with a damn good excuse. My head feels murky as if I had spent the evening binge drinking and my muscles ache like I just ran a marathon.

Wait...why am I naked? All these cuts and bruises weren't there last night when I first hit my head on the pillow. Shit, I can't even remember anything that happened an hour prior to doing that.

The room has been haphazardly rearranged. My pill bottles have been removed from the bathroom and placed on the floor next to my bed. I pray to God I didn't take any more while I was sleeping.

This is the weird thing. I wasn't drinking, smoking, snorting or shooting anything last night. I just took a little white pill that's legally prescribed to me by a medical doctor. This shit ain't supposed to happen.

My stomach is empty, but I feel like I'm going to throw up. I should probably eat something, but I'm scared to have it locked and loaded. And people wonder why I'm only 135 pounds.

In the shower, the water is so hot it makes me grit my teeth as my skin almost blisters. This is the only thing that can somewhat shake the chemicals from my head so that I can have a single thought that is truly my own. A blast of cold water to shock my system and I'm good to go.

With a towel around my waist I make my way to the mirror. I wipe the steam from the glass with my bare hand and stare at myself. The eyes looking back have dark bags clinging under them like parasites. Cheeks appear to be sucked in, paper thin and revealing cheekbones. I can see the 13 carved in ink on my left pec, which sits perpendicular to the sunken mess my right one has been for as long as I can remember. Both are framed my collar bones and ribs that shouldn't be this visible. Fuckin body issues.

I throw on a shirt so I don't have to look at my chest anymore and rub glue in my hair. That, along with a brush of the teeth and a few swipes of deodorant make my daily ritual complete. Wait. Almost. I forgot the three pills I'm supposed to take every morning.

From my room I can hear "Razorblade" blaring from my phone. It's about that time. I look at the bottle in my hands and pour its contents down the sink. Maybe that last alarm was the wake up call I've been aching for all this time.