THE ABYSS
HEART SANDWICH
2 Judy
'Today is going to be a good day.I woke up on time and ate a good breakfast and talked with my father for a few moments. Usually we do not talk at all. He said 'Hello' to me and told me all the chores I needed to do when I got home after school. I was happy. He never talked to me. Even to tell me what to do. He would always write a note because he would be at work by the time I woke up.
I love my father.
He loves me. I know it. This morning proved it. I rode the morning bus a very happy girl, and seeing the mammals I had made as friends made me happy too. I had a total of four friends on my bus. Ronny, Yusif, Benjy, and Katelynn. They are the best-
'Oh god that is awful,' I think to myself, my personal journal opened to the page I wrote this morning. I looked around my class, making sure no one peeked over my shoulder and got an eyeful of the horrible slosh of words encapsulated within the spiral notebook in front of me.
I close the notebook. God, I can't believe how bad my mind was when I was on my medication. My journal was more than enough proof that I needed to hold off on the pain suppressers, even if I would suffer migraines all day. They were only a crutch, really, not a problem solver. Maybe I could try to get them scaled back by my doctor to cut the amount I needed to take a day, so I could be less loopy and more focused on talking to mammals that I actually wanted to talk to. One such mammal was a fox I met named Nick. He saw me in the hallway and just started to chat with me, and even though it was just small talk, I was having a moment and appreciated his assistance greatly. I really couldn't call it assistance, though, now could I? It's not like he knew I had a real problem going on at that time. I could have been upset about anything really. The fact of the matter is that he seems like a nice mammal. I like him, but I don't think he likes me very much though; he seems untrusting when we talk, like I might get mad at him or say something about the fact that he's a fox. He didn't really bring up that fact, however, so It's more likely that he was intimidated by my reputation and the like; girls follow me around in a group and guys line up to try and see how they can get laid.
I can attribute that popularity solely to the fact that I was the best track runner in school, and that I was also valedictorian. Mammals basically worshipped me because of this, all of them admiring how well I do things and my standing in Glenwood. A lot of mammals also thought that I was extremely attractive, and I had no shortage of random bucks, and sometimes even does, asking me out on dates. Predators, prey, everyone had taking a liking to me, which was... pleasing? Even now, in my junior year, I can't really wrap my ears around the attention.
A migraine hits me like a brick flying through a car windshield, killing my thought process for a moment. I rub my temples. I need to get out of class to take my medication, if I don't, I'll probably end up passing out from all of the pain and freakish things I start seeing when I have a particularly bad one. A floating thought in the back of my head suggested that I shouldn't take the pills, and try to tough out the migraine. I almost decided to just that, because I wanted to be clear headed for the rest of the school day. But the pulsing in my head and the fear of hallucinations prompted me to raise my hand to excuse myself from class.
Dr. Fig, my science teacher, looks and me and weaves his way across other students sitting in their desks working. Dr. Fig is a portly bear, his white dress shirt and slacks stretching over his form circular form. Most students enjoy pointing out how his fur is always poking through the creases and folds of his obviously too small shirt, and sometimes they even made a mockery of how his snout was slightly bent. Even with that being said, however, I have found no one that dislikes Fig, and there was good reason. He had a deep, wise tone to his voice, his years of knowledge being exemplified through his speech patterns and habits. The way he took care of his students, no matter how awful they can be, was something to behold as well. Dr. Fig tried his best to guide his students down the right path, as if he were their grandfather warning them of the dangers that come with being 'in' with the wrong crowd, and because of that he was often the go-to-mammal for students who had personal problems at home, or at school. There was also the way he taught science, melding the often-boring book work with enjoyable, yet challenging exercises that revolved around team work and the golden rule to be done properly. If there was any class in Glenwood that was nearly impossible to fail, it was this one.
"What do you need Judy?" He asked, a scholarly look of intrigue formed across his facial features.
"I need my medication."
"Ah, I see. Bad migraine?"
"Bad migraine." Dr. Fig smiled and ushered me to his desk, where he quickly filled out a teacher's note for temporary dismissal.
"Thank you." I say, giving the bear a quick smile before rushing out of the classroom.
On the way there, I get a skull rattling headache behind my left eye, the suddenness of the pressured sensation almost causing me to let out a small cry of pain. I lean against a wall and put my head in my hands for a moment, my ears flopping uselessly to the sides of my skull. Thankfully no one was in the hallway when I did this, or I'd have mammals swarming me and asking me what was wrong, and I would have to answer with an 'I'm fine' for every worried face I came across. I press closer against the wall and put a palm over my eye, fighting the urge to bang my head against a locker as I heard a low ringing in my right ear, one that was progressively getting louder. I knew what that meant, and I didn't want it to reach its full strength. I looked up and frantically searched for anything out of the ordinary. I saw nothing, so I ran to the nurse office as fast as I could, being sure to avoid any narrow hallways or bathrooms. After a minute of running I stood in front of the glass doors of the nurse's office, and rushed into it, afraid of everything because of the fact that nothing was happening. That usually meant I was about to see something awful.
One of the nurses, Mrs. Bennet, a small otter, saw me look around with a high degree of paranoia and approached me.
"Judy, dear, are you alright?" She asked. I shook my head.
"No, I need my medication, now." I handed her the teacher slip, and she quickly walked off to retrieve my medication.
I sat down in a chair next to the main nurse's desk, which was a big ceramic and mahogany thing that looked nice but completely unnecessary. The ringing in my ear began to resurface, and once again I felt the need to run. Eyes were watching me somewhere, somewhere I couldn't point out, a place in the shadows of the afternoon sky they waited for me. They waited for me to miss a pill, to be stuck with my condition for a moment, so they could come out and prance around me. The beasts never touched me, however. That was the worst part; they only threatened of pain, but they never gave it, leaving me fearful of when they finally would. I shake my head and begin to try and think of happy things, better things, while I waited for Mrs. Bennet to fetch my capsulized savior. I hear footsteps approaching me, and for a moment I was content, thinking that Mrs. Bennet had done her job exceedingly well today. But when I looked up and saw that she was nowhere to be found, I understood what was beginning to happen.
The footsteps, heavy and muddy, began to pick up their pace. It was coming from the hallway, the hallway I had came from. It had been following me, hadn't it? I stand up and back away from the door.
"Uhh… Mrs. Bennet! Can you hurry? My headache is getting worse, and it hurts!"
"One moment, dear, I've gotten it but I need to know the right dosage. This medication is different from your old medication." I let out a fearful sigh.
A shadow encroaches the door to the nurses office- which shouldn't have been possible since there was a light directly on top of the door—it seems to be staring at me, though it did not have eyes or a body. The darkness within the shadow grew pungent, and began to murmur words to me in a language I never heard before, in the form of a whisper.
'Grët m'lrôk thü…'The voice was raspy yet coy, and sent a shiver down my spine as I sat back down. I attempted to hide my fear, to not give the shadow any acknowledgement that may betray me to others. No one needed to know what I could see. No one. It was my burden to carry, mine alone. Even now, when I could seek help and end these monstrous hallucinations, I knew I had to stay silent about them. There were mammals in my family I knew that had been taken to mental institutions and left to rot for seeing far less than what I was, and being in one of those places for too long often caused them to go mad and experience worse visions.
So I had to pretend that there was only a migraine in my head, and nothing else. But how was I supposed to do that when a large shadow whispering in my ear constantly plagued me in public? I turn my gaze away from the shadow, and towards the nurses desk.
"Mrs. Bennet, please hurry. I need those pills, my head feels like it's going to explode!" I cried.
The whispers around me began to grow plentiful, and they began to buzz and distort slightly, like the sound of radio static. Soon they began a chant, repeating the same phrase over and over again;
'Grët m'lrôk thü…
As time progressed and my grasp on reality began slipping, the chant began to get louder and louder and louder until a final screech erupted from the shadow.
'Grët m'lrôk thü!'
The shadow expanded, completely covering the windows of the nurse's office, blocking my view of the outside world. I was trapped. Soon, the door would be open, and the shadows would claim me, and I would die. I hold back a pained scream and place my head into my hands, plugging my ears with my fingers, desperately trying to block out the evil noise and hide from the growing shadow all at once. The pulsing in my head became akin to a thump, as if my brain had its own heartbeat.
'Go away go away go away go away go away go away go away—'
"Judy! Are you alright? Can you hear me?" I look up slowly from my hands, and see the concerned face of Mrs. Bennet staring into my eyes, searching for an answer that she knew I could not give.
I nod slowly, and lift my hand up, beckoning for my medication, my escape to reality, my only exit in this bleak nightmare that I have ventured into against my will so many times before. Mrs. Bennet seems to understand me, as she immediately gives me six pills and a glass of water. I down the pills as fast as I can and drink the entire cup of water, coughing a bit afterwards. I shudder, slowly looking around the room. There are no more large shadows and whispering wisp voices, no more fear, no more paranoia. The day was mine now, and I was happy. In a moment I would begin to feel a tingling sensation in my hands, signifying an overdose—though not a harmful one—a much lauded feeling that made me smile. I knew the bad times were over for the moment. And for me, right then and there, that was all I needed.
Two hands clasped around my shoulders and gave me a light shake, the suddenness of the action causing me to let a small cry of surprise exit my mouth. I look up, and see the concerned face of the assistant principle, Larry Goodman, a tall and imposing wolf, staring at me. His mouth was moving, but no words came to my ears. I nodded at whatever he had been saying, and then tried to stand up, only to be lightly pushed back down in to my seat. I looked at Goodman with an indignant stare, unsure of why he pushed me back down into my seat. He seemed confused by this, and looked towards Mrs. Bennet, who simply shrugged her shoulders. He began talking again, and still I could not hear anything, save for a dull ringing and distorted phrases.
"...at least we know she's responsive. What did you give her, and how much of it did you give to her?" Goodman inquired. Mrs. Bennet handed him a small slip of paper. I blinked a few times. Going deaf had never been a side effect
"I gave her six Phrylhrydrimene Chlorohydroxyium pills, a prescribed overdose of the drug that her doctor recommended for her extreme migraines."
"Her doctor prescribed her an overdose?"
"Yes, it's a minor overdose, though, and it only numbs her body enough to help her deal with the migraines. It is strange though, I will admit, but this isn't the first time her doctor has done this." Mrs. Bennet turned to me, and placed her hand on my forehead.
"Do you still feel like you need to throw up?" She asked. I give her a confused look, not understanding why she had asked me that question.
"What do you mean? I don't think I ever felt like throwing up."
"But you just nodded 'yes' to Mr. Goodman when he asked if you felt nauscious."
So that's what he said. No wonder he made me sit back down, he probably thought I would throw up if I stood.
"I wasn't in the right state of mind to hear him properly, so I just nodded along. Sorry. Can I go back to class now?" They both shared looks between each other.
"I think you should stay here for the time being. That medication I gave you is stronger than—"
"I have to get back to class. I have to. I don't want to be absent or tardy." I said, standing up once more to leave. Goodman did as he did previous; place his hands on my shoulders and gently attempt to get me to sit down.
I look at him, remove his hands from my shoulders, and try walk past him. He steps in front of me.
"We can't let you leave until we are sure that you are alright. It's school policy."
"But what about my classes? I don't want any tardies or absences."
"You don't have to worry about that, I will personally pull up your schedule and ensure that your teachers don't mark you absent or tardy," Goodman reassured me with a small smile.
I nod and take a seat, not caring for whatever questions they began pelting me with afterwards.
I had to sit in the nurse's office for an hour after my little episode, and they called my dad, too. The assistant principal told him that he thinks I should take a break from school and seek professional help. At first he was going to just let me go back to class, but Mrs. Bennet looked at my medical records and found out that I have intense hallucinations before and after I take my medication, something which I hadn't planned on telling her any time soon, (and something that she, given the purpose of her job, was supposed to already know) and so he made the choice to send me home. The bastard. Now I have a week's worth of work to finish when I get back, and I won't be able to talk to Nick. I was looking forward to meeting him at lunch, but fate seemed to have other plans for me. I had to spend an entire week at home doing nothing but taking pills and sleeping, which was so incredibly boring that I almost died of it quite a few times. My siblings didn't help with the boredom either, since all 275 of them were in school most of the day, and when they got home all they did was eat and try to figure out a way to annoy me, even the older siblings (Who should have damned well moved out of dad's house a long time ago). Somehow, though, I kept waking up in the morning, even after an intense night of nothingness. The week went by slowly, yet it was over in the blink of an eye. I can recall dragging myself through Monday as if it was the worst moment of my young life, then being happy and content with how much nothing was going on when Thursday came around. Now it's Saturday, and frankly, I wish I could have gone to school that entire week, rather than wasting it sleeping and watching silly romance movies. But there was one odd thing about that week that was gnawing at my brain. My dad hadn't taken me to see any sort of physician or psychiatrist during that period like he promised the assistant principal. I asked him why, and he said that psychiatrists only tell you that there's something wrong with you because they are paid to do it and benefit if their industry benefits, insinuating that they embellish your symptoms, then send you to a doctor, who'll then prescribe you expensive medicine that most likely does nothing. A monopoly, of sorts. I remember asking him if that was capitalism, and he responded by saying;
"It's textbook. The very definition."
Being a man of few words ever since my mother died, that was all he said to me before ushering me away so that he could continue his work.
Oh well. I hate therapy anyway.
I met Nick in the hallway again, and he hadn't forgotten me in the wake of my week-long absence, which wasn't surprising at all, since I seemed like the only other living creature besides his parents (probably) that he had actually ever spoken to for more than thirty seconds. I took a note of his awkwardness, and his badly hidden attempts to reign back his personality, two things that had gotten my nose twitching.
I managed to get his phone number before I went back to the group of girls I had been walking with, smiling a small but goofy smile, content with my progress in befriending him. I began to wonder what he thought of me, and if he would text me or not. I don't know why, but there was something about Nick that drew me to him—like a magnet or a fly to a carcass—and I couldn't seem to stop thinking about him. Then again, I think of all my friends like that, so maybe it isn't as weird as it feels.
"Who was that?" One of the girls, voluptuous jaguar wearing a really small shirt and tight jeans asked me. I killed the smile on my face and gave a shrug.
"A boy I just met. He's alright."
"You seemed pretty happy when you came back from talking to him." She said, winking at me. I feigned disgust, and turned away from her.
"I'd rather you not get any strange ideas, Sasha. I'm leaving." The girl called after me, as did the rest, but I ignored them in favor of entertaining the thought of talking to Nick later that day during lunch.
The day went by fairly quickly after that moment, my thoughts of Nick seemingly destroying my internal clock. I recalled giving Nick my phone number and receiving his so I decided to text him. I sent one text telling him that it was me, just in case he forgot, which he wouldn't because it was my number, and not some other girl's number. Though, from what I gathered of him, I'd like to think that his mom ws at the top of his contacts list. I put my phone away and tried to pay attention on whatever my Physics teacher was spouting out, but I couldn't focus, I was too worried about whether or not Nick would text me back. When five minutes passed and he hadn't replied to me I sent another message. Then another. Then another.
I furrowed my brow and placed a let my chin rest on my hand, propping myself up with my elbow as I stared at my phone. A realization hit me. I was being extremely creepy at this point. I barely knew Nick, yet for some reason I was acting like I had known him for years and we were just going to be all 'buddy buddy', and everything was going to be magical rainbows of friendship.
"Miss Hopps, is there something on your phone you would like to share with the class?" I shot up straight in my chair and smiled awkwardly.
"No sir, I was just checking the time!"
"Really? For ten minutes straight?" I heard a few giggles from the students around me. Knowing my Physics teacher, who, since I despise his existence so much, have purposely forgotten the name of, I would have to come up with a good lie to prevent him from trying to read my texts out loud. He had done it to many students before, and while some of them really WERE checking the time, the other ones were wrapped up in very... mature conversations.
"I... Uh... I was so enthralled by the time that I... uhm... was counting the minutes?"
"Oh, is it because my class is boring to you, Miss Valedictorian?"
"Yes!" I reply, not taking the time to actually listen to what he had just said, leaving me confused and appalled when my fellow classmates begin to howl with laughter. It took me a second to finally recall my teacher's words, and when I did, my eyes went wide and my mouth dropped.
"W-wait, no! I didn't mean—"
"I see you like to be cheeky, hmm? Meet me after school, Hopps." I let out a groan and let my face fall into my desk.
Not one second later, the bell rings, and I am out of my seat and down the hallway.
"So, what happened at school today, Judy?" My father asks me, not taking his eyes from his computer as he scrolls through a farming catalog.
"I... well, I kinda got in trouble. My teacher had me stay after school for an hour because I said his class was boring." That statement caught his attention. My father looked up at me, his eyebrows threatening to become one with his ears as he mulled over my words with a twitch to his nose and a slight frown adorning his mouth.
"That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard, and I work with folk down in Bunnyburrow on a daily basis! What did he make you do?"
"Oh, you know, the standard 80's punishment; writing 'I will not do 'insert thing here' anymore. It was annoying and my wrist hurts." My father grunted and returned his eyes to his computer.
"I might have to go up and have a chat with this man. What teacher is it?"
"He's my Physics teacher, and he's my fifth period. I don't like him, so I didn't memorize his name," I said. My father gave another grunt, and then shooed me off.
I sigh and go off my own way, leaving my father's study and going to the living room, where most of my younger siblings were, and fight my way to the couch and plop down on it. As if on cue, I start getting hounded by a group of little sisters.
"JUDY JUDY! YOU'RE HOME!" The screaming was too much for me, so I pin my ears firmly into my skull.
"Chrissy, Saddie, Maggie, Joanne, Rover, everyone else! I am trying to relax! Please leave me alone!" The young bunnies in question all back off, save for two, the most troublesome kits off all time.
"Johnny, Thomas. I can hear you trying to sneak up on me." I turn and give the two little boys a stern glare, and they instantly vanish behind the couch and run of squealing. Groaning, I lay down on the couch and close my eyes, needing a little sleep to calm my fried nerves.
