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As the icy cold blade glided smoothly over the wrist, twenty four prescription pain killers slid effortlessly down the throat; waiting for the numb, blissful kiss of death to set in. Teenage depression had gotten all too serious for Jace McMillan. The years of relentless bullying, physical pain, and emotional instability resulted in a simple text sent to my phone, "I'm sorry Marcus, and never forget that I love you." Having met one of my best friends online, with the sole form of communication over text, options were limited. Not a single form of outreach to either parent or even a simple Facebook to contact a friend. Knowing full well what this amazing man was capable of, my mind immediately went to the worst, my heart sank. Having dealt with depression and warning signs before, I knew exactly what had happened. Helpless to do anything, not a single contact number to call, I was scared. For the first time in my life, I felt true fear. True fear overtakes the body; the heart sinks, emotions leave the body, and humanity seeks to exist, the soul leaves and the body becomes a priso...
Almost one hundred years ago, prescription drugs like morphine were available at almost any general store. Women carried bottles of very addictive potent opiate based pain killers in their purse. Many individuals like Edgar Allen Poe died from such addictions. Since that time through various federal, state and local laws, drugs like morphine are now prescription drugs; however, this has not stopped the addiction to opiate based pain killers. Today’s society combats an ever increasing number of very deadly addictive drugs from designer drugs to narcotics to the less potent but equally destructive alcohol and marijuana. With all of these new and old drugs going in and out of vogue with addicts, it appears that the increase of misuse and abuse is founded greater in the prescription opiate based painkillers.
I walked into the room on New Year’s Day and felt a sudden twinge of fear. My eyes already hurt from the tears I had shed and those tears would not stop even then the last viewing before we had to leave. She lay quietly on the bed with her face as void of emotion as a sheet of paper without the writing. Slowly, I approached the cold lifeless form that was once my mother and gave her a goodbye kiss.
Almost everybody on Long Island, and probably all around the world, has been prescribed a drug by a doctor before— whether it was to knock out a nasty virus, or relieve pain post injury or surgery. However, what many people don’t realize is that these drugs can have highly addictive qualities, and more and more people are becoming hooked, specifically teenagers. But when does harmlessly taking a prescription drug to alleviate pain take the turn into the downward spiral of abuse? The answer to that question would be when the user begins taking the drug for the “high” or good feelings brought along with it—certainly not what it was prescribed for (1). The amount of teens that abuse prescription medications has been rapidly increasing in recent
It’s a hard thing to explain to somebody who hasn’t felt it, but the resence of death and danger has a way of bringing you fully awake. It makes things vivid. When you’re afraid, really afraid, you see things you never saw before, you pay attention to the world. You make close friends. You become part of a tribe and you share the same blood – you give it together, you take it together. (O’Brien, 220)
The ride home had been the most excruciating car ride of my life. Grasping this all new information, coping with grief and guilt had been extremely grueling. As my stepfather brought my sister and I home, nothing was to be said, no words were leaving my mouth.Our different home, we all limped our ways to our beds, and cried ourselves to sleep with nothing but silence remaining. Death had surprised me once
The voices in my head become a swelling crescendo. I forcefully grab my head in between my hands as the words echo through my skull. Pain pulsates with every word. I squeeze my temples hard with my palms but the pain is unbearable. Clawing at my face, a scream rips through me; sapping every last drop of energy in my body. Like a rag doll, I collapse onto the cold concrete floor as a growing darkness overcomes me.
Fear is an amazing emotion, in that it has both psychological as well as physiological effects on the human body. In instances of extreme fear, the mind is able to function in a way that is detached and connected to the event simultaneously. In “Feared Drowned,” Sharon Olds presents, in six brief stanzas, this type of instance. Her sparse use of language, rich with metaphors, similes and dark imagery, belies the horror experienced by the speaker. She closes the poem with a philosophical statement about life and the after-effects that these moments of horror can have on our lives and relationships.
In the state I was in, if someone had come and told me I could go home quietly, that they would leave me my life whole, it would have left me cold: several hours or several years of waiting is all the same when you have lost the illusion of being eternal. I clung to nothing, in a way I was calm. But it was a horrible calm -- because of my body; my body, I saw with its eyes, I heard with its ears, but it was no longer me; it sweated and trembled by itself and I didn't recognize it anymore.
The tears kept rolling like a broken faucet. Trying to get out the car, but I cannot because the door is bent and will not open. Not knowing what to do was making this pounding headache worst. Police officers asking a million questions. Only thing running through this head was what just happened. Flashbacks kept replaying over and over again. The fact that my mother’s and I lives could have been taken in that short period of time. If I would not have turn the wheel when I did, that car would have hit my mother straight on instead of the front. The thought of just losing my mother was something I could not bear at the moment. A life without my mother was a life that I was not prepared for. Walking away with no injuries and our lives was a blessing. Coming that close to death changed me for the better. They always say enjoy life every day, and now I understand why because life can been taken in one second. Life is a precious gift that we have here on Earth. Cherishing time with family and friends is important, and to never take life and the little things for
Disappointment, disbelief and fear filled my mind as I lye on my side, sandwiched between the cold, soft dirt and the hot, slick metal of the car. The weight of the car pressed down on the lower half of my body with monster force. It did not hurt, my body was numb. All I could feel was the car hood's mass stamping my body father and farther into the ground. My lungs felt pinched shut and air would neither enter nor escape them. My mind was buzzing. What had just happened? In the distance, on that cursed road, I saw cars driving by completely unaware of what happened, how I felt. I tried to yell but my voice was unheard. All I could do was wait. Wait for someone to help me or wait to die.
It was a Monday night; I remember it like it was yesterday. I had just completed my review of Office Administration in preparation for my final exams. As part of my leisure time, I decided to watch my favorite reality television show, “I love New York,” when the telephone rang. I immediately felt my stomach dropped. The feeling was similar to watching a horror movie reaching its climax. The intensity was swirling in my stomach as if it were the home for the butterflies. My hands began to sweat and I got very nervous. I could not figure out for the life of me why these feelings came around. I lay there on the couch, confused and still, while the rings continued. My dearest mother decided to answer this eerie phone call. As she picked up, I sat straight up. I muted the television in hopes of hearing what the conversation. At approximately three minutes later, the telephone fell from my mother’s hands with her faced drowned in the waves of water coming from her eyes. She cried “Why?” My Grandmother had just died.
My stomach weakens with a thought that something is wrong, what would be the answer I could have never been ready for. I call my best friend late one night, for some reason she is the only person’s voice I wanted to hear, the only person who I wanted to tell me that everything will be okay. She answer’s the phone and tells me she loves me, as I hear the tears leak through, I ask her what is wrong. The flood gates open with only the horrid words “I can’t do this anymore”. My heart races as I tell her that I am on my way, what I was about to see will never leave my thoughts.
My hand shaking at every thought, a cold shiver ran down my spine as cold sweat trickled down the side of my forehead. I lifted my hand up and a strong smell hit my nose, it was the smell of blood. I lifted the object and shock hit me like lightening, fear displaced my sadness, sickness changed my bloodstream from blood to a thick liquid pus and vomit. I held the muscle with my right hand as my left hand was paralysed with shock. The adrenaline shot me forcing me to move but shock shattered me into thin slices that were impossible to put back again.
My earliest recollection of fear was when I was barely four years old. To this day I can still remember vividly my physical and social surroundings during the event. As I lay on my back in my family room I tossed a rubber ball up and down as I tried to ignore the boring TV program my father was watching: the evening news. All of a sudden my curiosity awoke when I heard the newscaster say the word, "kidnapped." I had never heard this strange word before. "What does kidnapped mean, daddy?" I casually asked. I knew something was wrong when he paused, as if he did not want to reply; so I repeated myself. In the simplest way possible he replied by telling me it is when a stranger takes a child.
My heart was simply ripped apart. I could not believe it at first, but I knew I had to. After all these wonderful years and enthralling moments, I finally have to face God's greatest challenge. My mind wasn't as messy as before anymore and I couldn't even think of what to think. It seemed as if I had nothing to worry about, nothing to do, nothing to say. I was trapped inside this room waiting for the Grim Reaper to reap my innocent soul.