She listened to the sounds of Green Day coming from her stereo as she stared at the bottle clutched in her white knuckled hand. Dextroamphetamine or, more commonly, known as Dexedrine. She had gotten it from one of her friends, Alex, who had used to take it as he had been diagnosed with ADHD. Now, he was off the prescription and he had no more need of it. For a party, Alex had brought it and she, him and a few other friends had taken three each. The drug had relaxed them and they just sat in a room for four hours, staring at the walls and each other and talking. He had had at least thirty left and so they all met two more times to take it. Then, she had offered the sixteen-year-old twenty dollars for the remaining fifteen. He had given them to her with a joking warning not to kill herself. Little did he know…

She blinked and brought herself back to the present. They were there, all fifteen of them. Taken in small quantities they would just produce a relaxing, nice feeling but, taken all together, they could hurt… or even be lethal. She looked into the mirror by her desk and didn't like what she saw.

A sophomore in high school, fifteen years of age, and she looked like one risen from the dead. Her skin was pale and her once luxurious waist length black hair had become lax and lifeless so she had cut it to a short, spiky style. Her once bright green eyes were sunken in and faded. Black smudges under them marred further her once pretty face. That was from sneaking out to drink, smoke cigs and do other, worse things with her friends. She had tried a few different things, trying to find something to lift her perpetual feeling of unhappiness. They had worked but nothing had been long term. If not anything, they had made her life more miserable then before with all their side effects.

She looked back to the bottle and with shaking hands, opened it slowly. She spread the contents on the desk and stared at the brown and orange, ten-milligram pills. They could grant her happiness, or death. It was she who would decide in the end.

She picked up five and the other hand closed around a glass of water she had prepared for this. Quickly, before she lost her courage, she placed the pills on her tongue and washed them down with the water. She sighed. It had begun. She picked up the next five and washed them down.

Before picking up the last group, she stared at them hard. She had taken ten, at the most, that amount would kill her, but most likely it would just make her very sick. Did she want to die? She wasn't too sure. She recalled her friends, her family, her cat and everything else. Did she want to live? No. She picked up the last five and washed them down quicker then the ones before.

Then, she set the empty glass and stared at her open palm. Nothing was in it. She looked down at her stomach. They were in there, being digested so she could chicken out on life and die. She took a deep breath and then stood up. She ran for the bathroom where she was violently ill in the toilet.

She studied the contents of her stomach that had been brought up: just the remnants of her last meal and three pills. What? They're should have been more! At least ten!

"No…" she whispered and slid her back down the wall, hitting the ground with a soft thud. She suddenly realized that she didn't want to die. She wanted to live, more then ever before. She stood. There was still a chance she could save herself. She stood and staggered down the hall and to the kitchen where a phone was. She picked it up with violently shaking hands. She stared at the buttons on the wall part of the corded phone. They were so fuzzy; she couldn't concentrate on them at such a close range.

She dropped the phone and backed up a few feet to look from a distance. She fell to the floor. It was so hard to move! Like there were hundreds of pounds of weights tied onto her limbs. She lay on her back, watching the world spin slowly. She just wanted to close her eyes and sleep but if she did, she knew that she would never wake up. That she would pass into the Last Sleep, the Sleep of Death.

Her cat came over and sniffed at her face. "Cat…" she slowly reached up a hand and stroked it's face. The cat purred and rubbed his face against her open hand. She smiled and rubbed his face more.

She was aware of the sound of the door opening. "Hello?" she recognized the voice as that of Alex. She heard his footsteps walk down the hall and into her room. "Dell? Yo, girl, ya home?" She tried to call for him but she couldn't talk, the effort was beyond her. "Oh my God!" she heard him yell. She surmised that he had found the empty bottle of pills. "Dell? Dell, you fucking idiot! Where are you?"

He ran into the kitchen and found her sprawled on the ground, "My God, Dell! I told you! I told you!" he screamed, grabbing her and shaking her.

"C-call…" she managed.

"Who?" he asked.

"Nine… nine…"

"Nine-one-one?"

"Y… y… yeah…"

"Don't talk Dell! They'll be here soon!" he said comfortingly and grabbed the phone. He quickly dialed the number and told the lady on the other end the situation and the number of the house. He hung up and then sat down next to her, putting her head in his lap, "Dell? You awake?"

She nodded barely. "Good... Damn it, Dell… I told you!"

"Couldn't… help it…" she muttered.

"But still! Good God! Don't you trust me? I was looking out for you!" she saw a few tears tracing their way down his clean shaven face, "It's all my fault!"

"Bull… I would've…" she tried to finish what she was going to say but couldn't find the strength.

"Found another way?" she nodded weakly, "Yeah, I guess you're right… but still! This is my fault!"

"No, not."

"Yes, it is!"

"No…" she struggled to keep her eyes open.

"Yes!"

"Fine… at least… you came…" she felt them sinking shut.

"Yeah… Dell? Dell, wake up!" he shook her.

"Nuh uh… wanna… sleep…" she speech was slurred.

"I won't let you!" he growled and slapped her.

Her eyes flew open. "What was that for?" she hissed.

"Heh, now that's the Dell I know," he said with a small smile.

Dell managed a weak smile and then the door burst open. Alex looked up and gave a smile of relief to the paramedics. "Thank God you're here!"

"How is she?" one of the paramedics asked, bending over to look in her eyes.

"She bad, I think."

"What'd she overdose on?" the voices were sounding far off, like through a long tunnel.

"Dexedrine."

"Okay." Dell felt the paramedic open her eyes and then a bright light was flashed into both of them. She heard them talking again but the words were just buzzes, not real words. Dell knew she shouldn't, but her eyes sunk shut and then she slipped into the deep, dark realms of death.

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Not self-insertion! I swear! Dell's just a mix of all my friends and myself. So technically, it's not self-insertion. So, ha… R&R please!

Title borrowed from a Green Day song!