your little habit
There was a time when it all held some meaning for you.
The rebelling. The thrill of sneaking into mom’s dressing drawer and taking a couple of pills from her special white bottle. You never knew why mom took them; but she always said they made her sleep better. At the time, you thought that these were the magic pills that could make all the bad things disappear, like it made mom’s sleepless nights disappear.
A couple. She took a couple and they always worked for her. However… it never worked for you. Sure, you slept well, but not always. He was always after you… the bully who liked slamming you up against the lockers in the empty changing room because you were the only one who was too scared to cry out at what he did. Even in your dreams, you had no peace from his sneering face and his wandering hands.
Maybe more would help. As long as mom never noticed, it would be okay. You could feed your little habit…
Every day. The bottle emptied fast, but you knew there would always be more, because mom would always need her pills, just like you did.
You never noticed when you just took the pills for the reason that you couldn’t do without them, even if they didn’t stop the nightmares. You never noticed that they had stopped working…
Until mom stopped bringing the pills home. That’s when you realized that your little habit… had become an addiction.