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Description
           She sat on the edge of her bed, pills in hand and a glass of water on the table; all she had to do was swallow. They looked so innocent in her hands, those five pills that would soon be her escape. To her though, those five pills were more than just an escape, they were reminders of the things that brought her to this point.

            The first pill reminded her of her father's abuse. Her memories from her childhood were mostly fearful. She was constantly afraid of her father, especially when he was drunk, which was more often the case than not. She could never do anything right in his eyes, and rarely do anything that did not result in a bruises. "You're nothin' but a worthless pig!" - She could still hear his voice in her head, and after 16 years of hearing the same hateful sentiments over and over again, it became hard to block them out of her mind. Her mother had tried to stop it a few times, but after being beaten as well she soon stopped trying to help. The first pill told her she was unloved.

          The second pill reminded her of getting pregnant. It was true love, she had been so sure of it at the time. But never having received love, she could not tell it apart from a cheap imitation. At seventeen she was pregnant, and when her father found out he kicked her out. She lived with her boyfriend's parents after that, and soon dropped out of high school. Her boyfriend stayed in school for a year, graduated, and got a job soon after with a construction company. His parents were not as bad as hers; they never said anything to her face, but she heard their whispers when they thought she could not hear them. "I just don't understand how Greg could get caught up with a girl like that…" They would whisper, "She's dropped out of school, and she'll bring him down with her if we're not careful." The second pill reminded her that she was a failure.

           The third pill reminded her of her marriage. It had never been a very good one; born more of necessity than love. She remembered the cheap ring he had bought from a gas station as they were on their way to the courthouse. "A beautiful girl deserves a beautiful ring on her wedding day, doesn't she?" The words had sounded forced, as if he was saying them only because he felt obligated to. That's how he treated her too - she was an obligation. She remembered spending nights alone just waiting for him to come home, he would stumble through the door late at night, say a few unintelligible words, and immediately fall asleep on the floor. He never called to say he would be home late either, he never thought she was worth a call. The third pill told her she was worthless.

           The fourth pill reminded her of her mother's death. Every year on her birthday her mother would call her to wish her a happy birthday, ask her how she was, and tell her she loved her. She was the only one who ever called, the only one who ever seemed to care. Then one year she never got a call. Reluctantly, she dialed her parents phone number. Her father picked up the phone. "Can I talk to mom?" she asked. "Your mother's dead" came the reply. There were no other words exchanged, he never said he was sorry, never gave any explanation. After a minute of silence she hung up. She remembered feeling so alone after that, and she still did. The fourth pill reminded her that she was alone.

           The fifth pill reminded her of the eviction notice she got last week, it had said that they had three days to vacate the apartment.  Her husband never had a very good job; they had always been struggling just to make ends meet. Then one day he lost his job. He never told her why, and she never asked. After four weeks of paying no rent they got the eviction notice. That was two days ago, they now had one day left. She had no idea where they would go, no idea what they would do. Her husband did not seem to care; he was as lost as she was. The fifth pill told her she was hopeless.

            She reached out with a shaking hand and grabbed the glass of water. Then, wanting to no longer hear their voices, she dropped the pills into her mouth. Just before she could swallow however, she heard a knock at her bedroom door. She quickly spat the pills into a sweaty hand; "Who… Who's there?" she asked with a shaking voice. "Mommy. Mom. Mommy!" – it was her three-year-old son Trevor. "What do you want honey?" He caught her off guard - she just set him down for a nap twenty minutes earlier. "Mom. Mommy!" he was not going to give up, he wanted in. She walked over to the door and put a hand on the door knob. "MOMMY!" his cries were growing louder. She slowly turned the door knob and opened the door. He stumbled through the door the moment she opened it; running right into her leg. He wrapped his arms around her calf and squeezed. "Honey, what is it?"  She asked. "Mommy." He said, looking up at her with his bright blue eyes "I. Love. You." At that moment tears began to well up in her eyes. Looking into his eyes, she saw love. In his eyes she saw, someone who had value, someone who was not a failure. His eyes told her she was not alone. In his amazing, perfect, innocent blue eyes, she saw hope. Then, one by one, she dropped the five pills from her hand and ground them into the carpet.

Description
           She sat on the edge of her bed, pills in hand and a glass of water on the table; all she had to do was swallow. They looked so innocent in her hands, those five pills that would soon be her escape. To her though, those five pills were more than just an escape, they were reminders of the things that brought her to this point.

            The first pill reminded her of her father's abuse. Her memories from her childhood were mostly fearful. She was constantly afraid of her father, especially when he was drunk, which was more often the case than not. She could never do anything right in his eyes, and rarely do anything that did not result in a bruises. "You're nothin' but a worthless pig!" - She could still hear his voice in her head, and after 16 years of hearing the same hateful sentiments over and over again, it became hard to block them out of her mind. Her mother had tried to stop it a few times, but after being beaten as well she soon stopped trying to help. The first pill told her she was unloved.

          The second pill reminded her of getting pregnant. It was true love, she had been so sure of it at the time. But never having received love, she could not tell it apart from a cheap imitation. At seventeen she was pregnant, and when her father found out he kicked her out. She lived with her boyfriend's parents after that, and soon dropped out of high school. Her boyfriend stayed in school for a year, graduated, and got a job soon after with a construction company. His parents were not as bad as hers; they never said anything to her face, but she heard their whispers when they thought she could not hear them. "I just don't understand how Greg could get caught up with a girl like that…" They would whisper, "She's dropped out of school, and she'll bring him down with her if we're not careful." The second pill reminded her that she was a failure.

           The third pill reminded her of her marriage. It had never been a very good one; born more of necessity than love. She remembered the cheap ring he had bought from a gas station as they were on their way to the courthouse. "A beautiful girl deserves a beautiful ring on her wedding day, doesn't she?" The words had sounded forced, as if he was saying them only because he felt obligated to. That's how he treated her too - she was an obligation. She remembered spending nights alone just waiting for him to come home, he would stumble through the door late at night, say a few unintelligible words, and immediately fall asleep on the floor. He never called to say he would be home late either, he never thought she was worth a call. The third pill told her she was worthless.

           The fourth pill reminded her of her mother's death. Every year on her birthday her mother would call her to wish her a happy birthday, ask her how she was, and tell her she loved her. She was the only one who ever called, the only one who ever seemed to care. Then one year she never got a call. Reluctantly, she dialed her parents phone number. Her father picked up the phone. "Can I talk to mom?" she asked. "Your mother's dead" came the reply. There were no other words exchanged, he never said he was sorry, never gave any explanation. After a minute of silence she hung up. She remembered feeling so alone after that, and she still did. The fourth pill reminded her that she was alone.

           The fifth pill reminded her of the eviction notice she got last week, it had said that they had three days to vacate the apartment.  Her husband never had a very good job; they had always been struggling just to make ends meet. Then one day he lost his job. He never told her why, and she never asked. After four weeks of paying no rent they got the eviction notice. That was two days ago, they now had one day left. She had no idea where they would go, no idea what they would do. Her husband did not seem to care; he was as lost as she was. The fifth pill told her she was hopeless.

            She reached out with a shaking hand and grabbed the glass of water. Then, wanting to no longer hear their voices, she dropped the pills into her mouth. Just before she could swallow however, she heard a knock at her bedroom door. She quickly spat the pills into a sweaty hand; "Who… Who's there?" she asked with a shaking voice. "Mommy. Mom. Mommy!" – it was her three-year-old son Trevor. "What do you want honey?" He caught her off guard - she just set him down for a nap twenty minutes earlier. "Mom. Mommy!" he was not going to give up, he wanted in. She walked over to the door and put a hand on the door knob. "MOMMY!" his cries were growing louder. She slowly turned the door knob and opened the door. He stumbled through the door the moment she opened it; running right into her leg. He wrapped his arms around her calf and squeezed. "Honey, what is it?"  She asked. "Mommy." He said, looking up at her with his bright blue eyes "I. Love. You." At that moment tears began to well up in her eyes. Looking into his eyes, she saw love. In his eyes she saw, someone who had value, someone who was not a failure. His eyes told her she was not alone. In his amazing, perfect, innocent blue eyes, she saw hope. Then, one by one, she dropped the five pills from her hand and ground them into the carpet.