"Abby, Abby, time to rise and shine," says the lady with a khaki pantsuit on. "I made you breakfast downstairs, I can't be late this morning. I have a very big conference with some new Italian investment firm this morning and I need to be there," as she opens the curtains letting in the sun. "I'll see you downstairs and don't forget I will be picking you up at 2:30 for you appointment with Dr. Richards. It was very nice of her to change her schedule around your schoolwork. Remember to take those pills she prescribed," motioning at the bottles on her bed stand as she leaves her room.

As you look over you see the bottles of Zoloft, Zanex, and 3 or 4 you don't even know how to pronounce. When you have an anxiety about something the medical community feels they need to just numb it out of you. It would appear you are their best customer.

"I'm up, mom, I'll be down in a minute."

Abby gets up, yawns, stretches, and climbs out of bed in her Invader Zim pajamas. She shuffles to the bathroom, half asleep still. She feels so numb since she started taking all of those pills. She does not feel good. Nothing is fun anymore, not even hanging out with her theater friends after school. They used to have such a great time, doing the stupid things that teenagers do. Now, she just doesn't care. She doesn't like that she doesn't care, but mom tells her to take the pills, so she does.
She climbs into the shower and zones out for a while, thinking about nothing while she gets clean. She dries off, brushes her teeth and her hair, and gets dressed before heading down to breakfast.

"Mom, do I have to take the pills? They make me feel bad. And Dr. Richards is creepy, I don't wanna go see her," she whines.

She eats her breakfast. It has no taste. The world around her is muted, the colors dull.

 Her mother comes rushing in with her Coffee and her laptop when she trips on a tile in the kitchen.

"Shit, Abby, uh," looking down at the coffee and the mess, she reaches over and grabs a swath of paper towels and starts sopping up the mess. "She said it would ease your anxiety, I know you think she is creepy, but thats how adults act in the real world. It's not like your cousin, just takes off right when he needs to be taking his tests. Uhhh, I blame James he was always lackadaisical growing up and it just ended up worse when he got a son. It's a wonder he ever ran a company that large. Well, I really got to go is Amber giving you a ride or am I taking you to school?" seeming hurried.

Abby sighs around a mouthful of cereal.
"Ok mom, I'll take the pills, see?"
She shoves a handful of pills in her mouth and swallows them with some orange juice. The world soon becomes, if possible, even duller.
"I miss Chris, he should have told me he was leaving." At that, a spark of color returns to her surroundings, as anger mounts in her heart. "He shouldn't have just left me like this with the creepy doctors and the crappy pills. At least he paid attention to me, wasn't running around all the time like I was a nuisance."
She glares at her mom. "Amber's taking me, I knew you had a meeting this morning, mom, I'm not stupid."
As the pills further kick in, her anger is quelled, and the colors fade again.

 Her mother barely paying any attention,"You know I love you sweetheart, thats why it is important to keep this thing under control. I would not mind seeing you end up dealing with a teenager," she laughs at her perfect humor. "Tell Amber I said Hello, and be safe, I'll see you after school." She heads toward the door grabbing her purse and keys.

"I almost forgot, we need to swing by the cemetery after the doctor's office. I need to drop off some flowers for James," she seems to start to tear up, but quickly moves for the door knowing she does not have time for reapplying her make up again.

"Love you, lock up after I leave," as she slams the door. After a minute you hear the car start and you are left alone looking forlornly at a half eaten bowl of soggy cheerios.

Abby mimics her mom behind her back, mouthing her words with an exaggeratedly serious face. Hell, even mocking mom isn't making her smile like it used to, this is bad.

She dumps the rest of the bowl of Cheerios down the sink, finishes her OJ and leaves the dirty dishes on the kitchen counter.

She grabs her backpack, goes outside and locks the door. She sits on the porch, eyes slightly glazed over, and waits for Amber to pick her up for school.

When Amber shows up in her new yet old POS car, Abby waves lackadaisically and walks slowly, almost as if she's forgotten how to, to the car. She gets in and closes the door.

"Hey Amber," she mumbles. "Thanks for picking me up, my mom's busy again. Just like every other day this week." She sighs.

Amber, a pretty girl with ragged black hair, a black tank top and hot pink capris on, smiles at Abby. "Yeah, no problem. I'm totally painting my car pink this weekend, you wanna help?"

When Abby fails to respond, Amber looks concerned. "Hey, Abb, anybody home? you ok in there?"

"Yeah," Abby mumbles, much quieter than her usual boisterous self, "that creepy Dr. Richards lady's just got me taking all these pills, I don't feel so great but my mom makes me keep taking them because she thinks I have cancer or some shit." She looks conspiratorially at Amber, a long lost twinkle in her eye. "I'm gonna stop taking 'em, no matter what mom and Dr. Horrible have to say about it."  

--Last edited by Abby Holloway on 2008-07-29 15:28:22 --