Title: The Enemy
Fandom: None/original
Rating: Mature
Length: 350
Notes: This was quite hard to write. I was going to give it to a fictional character, but I decided to own it instead, so... this was basically my Wednesday evening this week.
Content notes: Prescription drug hoarding/misuse/addiction references.



It's a difficult week, and you don't do well with grief, never have. Time to get rid of those prescription painkillers you have stashed around the house. Put them all in a bag, send them to the pharmacy to be destroyed. Just in case.

Mind: What if you get a terrible toothache? You'll suffer, your bog standard paracetamol won't touch that.

Wow, you didn't realise there were so many. Empty the bathroom cabinet, that's at least 500. Bedside table drawers, couple of hundred more.

Mind: And that insomnia, they help with that. How much have you slept this week, hmm?

Desk drawers – a dozen loose strips, that's another 120. Rucksack pockets, another 30. Wait, 60.

Mind: You don't want to do this, come on.

But you do, it's common sense. There, they're all in a bag. And if you feel a bit anxious throughout the evening, that's just the bad week you're having, of course you don't feel great.

Although...

You could keep a couple of boxes. It's not like you're going to actually take them. You've only taken some three times this year.

One of those times was for a couple of weeks, and it was tough to stop and made you feel like crap, but that's okay. You needed them.

Mind: See, sometimes you do need them. Go and get some back, nobody will know. Just two boxes. One and a half, really. 148 pills. You're still throwing out hundreds, that's amazing.

No. All of them have to go. Go on, put them back in the bag. Don't just stand there. Why can't you move? PUT THEM IN THE DAMN BAG.

Body: Oh, sorry to butt in, but I've been um, busy. Update: your neck hurts a whole lot right now. Honest.

No, it doesn't. (Except it does, for no reason.)

Body: Your arms too, they really hurt. Both of 'em. Sorry!

It's not real, it's not real, it's-- ow, fuck.

Mind: That's it, just pop those boxes back in your desk drawer. Just in case. Well done.