Happy Pills

By: Dreiser


	I stare at the neatly arranged row of pills that sits in front of 
me and smile. It has become a routine for me to place them in a row 
before I take them and for some reason I now derive pleasure out of 
the task. Sometimes I like to put them together in order of color. 
That's usually when I'm bored or in a thoughtful mood, which happens 
quite often despite other people's ignorance to the fact.
	Then there are the rare times when I just don't care about the 
order of the pills. That's when they're randomly strewn about on my 
normally neat dressing table. Mostly I've taken to the habit of forming 
them into little happy faces that smile up at me as I lean over them. I 
find it comforting to look at them in such a manner. It's almost as if 
they're smiling up at me, encouraging me to take them. To seek the 
bliss of tranquility... of restraint... of pacifism.
	I must admit that before I started taking the pills, my happy 
pills as I like to call them, the rage that I held inside would frighten me 
at times. Without logic or form my anger would surface and cause my 
body to tremble, my fists to clench, and my mind to sear with utter 
hatred.
	In that white hot moment all the world and its people were my 
enemy. There was no reason for it. I knew that but I was helpless to 
stop my rage.
	So I tried to hold it in... I bottled away all my feelings like they 
were fine wine. But unlike wine emotions don't grow sweeter with 
age. They turn bitter and sour your pallet with the taste of bile as they 
resurface in your mind.
	My family ignored my behavior as they always do. I'm not 
truly seen as a member of the family but more like their cheerleader. 
Someone who sits on the sidelines and appears whenever their bell is 
rung. And like the faithful bitch that I am I always come when it 
sounds.
	I'd like to shove that bell down their throats.
	It's a silly thought I know. Silly because there simply isn't any 
bell. It's merely a concept I've been discussing in therapy. The idea of 
how I'm not seen as a real person but more of an automaton of some 
sort that's there to serve their needs. My therapist says that happens 
because I'm an enabler.
	I suppose in many ways that's true. Certainly it's my own 
actions that has enabled my family to treat me the way that they do. I 
allow it... I even condone it in some measure. I was always taught that 
a woman's place was in the home and that it was her duty to care for 
her loved ones.
	 A laugh escapes my lips at this. My brows are drawn as I 
move the pills from their neat row into the happy face that I so enjoy 
looking up at me.
	While I care for my loved ones I seriously doubt that they 
care about me. They've made themselves the focus of my life with 
everything I do revolving around their wants and their needs. To me 
they are everything. They are my reason for being. My reason for 
going on.
	And what am I to them? I'm nothing more than another voice 
in the background noise of their lives.
	Insignificant and not worth attention.
	The harsh realization that I judge my own worth as a person 
through my relationship to my family is what caused my breakdown 
and brought me to my therapist.
	To my therapist and my happy pills.
	I smile at the happy face they've formed in front of me and 
gaze at them for a moment before reaching for the glass of water. One 
by one I swallow the pills and in seconds I can feel a familiar haze 
cover my mind. The pills soon cover my thoughts and drown out their 
incessant chatter. I can feel myself becoming blank. Losing myself... 
losing all my worries and cares...
	I swallow the last pill and set down the glass to look into the 
mirror before me. I blink at the face that I see staring back at me. It 
seems like a stranger and I can see my brow furrow as I attempt to 
recall what I had been thinking.
	No details come to mind and my voice fills the dead silence of 
my bedroom.
	"Oh my."
	Still looking into the mirror I smooth out the creases in my 
dress. I do find it a bit strange that I can never recall my train of 
thought after taking the pills but that sweet Dr. Tofu did recommend 
them. And he would never give me anything that was dangerous.
	Giving a short affirming nod I carefully replace the lids to the 
various pill bottles and neatly place them in a row in the top drawer to 
my dressing table. Shutting the drawer I smile in satisfaction. 
Everything was as it should be.
	Nice and tidy and in its place.
	It's important to know that everything and everyone has their 
place. Once you find out what your place is it's best to stay in it and 
never diverge.
	I form a contented smile at this when suddenly I hear my 
name shouted at mammoth volumes from downstairs.
	"Kasumi!! We need you!"
	Sighing rather complacently I smooth out my dress once more 
before I walk towards the bedroom door and open it smoothly while I 
give my reply.
	"I'll be just a moment!"

-End-

The character in this fanfiction is from Ranma 1/2. This fanfiction was 
inspired by the works of the great goddess Rumiko Takahashi. I've 
had some pretty depressing crap in my mind for a long time about 
how everyone in the Tendo dojo treats Kasumi. She's like a slave to 
their whims and it really disgusts me at times. This fanfic also stems 
from the strange tranquility of her behavior. Often I would watch her 
and think that she had to be on prozac or something to that likeness 
because of her utter lack of emotion at times. This fanfic was named 
for and inspired by the song Happy Pills by Candlebox. Scroll down 
to read the complete (and long) lyrics. Now I'm off to contemplate 
why I'm writing depressing stuff like this when I'm still giddy about 
being accepted into my art school in Chicago.

Send comments to: Dreiser1@ix.netcom.com

Visit Altered Destinies at:
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	"Sometimes you wake to see yourself. Take happier pills to 
keep you well. Sometimes you talk to hear yourself. Screaming out 
loud. Never ever heard a word that you said. Can't you see yourself? 
Can't you understand? There's more truth in the way that you lie. But 
you take a stab at all that's surrounding your mind. Can't you sweep 
this shit to the side? It's so fucking nice to have you here. To turn our 
lives from what we fear. But sometimes you're worthless and weak 
and alone. Will you ever grow? Here I am, I want to help you out."
	"Can't you see yourself? Can't you understand? There's more 
truth in the way that you lie. So you take a stab at all that's 
surrounding your mind. Well you won't believe when this cloud lifts 
what you might find. You'll find it's all over and you can't see it's all 
over. The face that stares back at you from these happy pills. They 
won't keep you well tonight. I'll be here to watch you shudder. I'll be 
the one that holds you under. Every time you try to shift it, every time 
your stitch is slipping. Slipping through time."
	"There's more truth in the way that you lie. So you take a stab 
at all that's surrounding your mind. Well you won't believe when this 
cloud lifts what you might find. Got it all over you now. Got it all over 
you now. Got it all over this. The face that stares back at you from 
these happy pills. They won't keep you well tonight."

-Candlebox-