Chapter 8

With a heavy sigh, I eased myself out of bed and cracked the stiff joints in my neck and back with a roll of my shoulders. I glanced out the window of my bedroom, frowning at the fresh blanket of snow dusting over the trees.

It was the first snow of the season, and it was earlier than usual—a shiver down my spine.

From the corner of my eye, I glanced at the pills on the table. My head was pounding, I couldn't feel my fingers, and everything hurt, but I knew this was exactly what the pills did.

Nausea bubbled in my throat the more I recalled how my mother forcefully shoved them in my hand. I wouldn't say I liked the new pills that sat dry and heavy on my tongue.

But I had to take them. It didn't matter that I got headaches so bad that I could barely see, let alone think. Swallowing the suppressant pill, my fingers clutched tightly at the sheets. I slipped into the bathroom and peeled off my sweaty jeans and the shirt before taking a long sho