Dead Med

by Freida McFadden

She had a certain seductively dangerous quality to her—it was incredibly alluring. Still, I had every intention of turning her down. Truly, I did.

All I know is that I’ve been taking antidepressants for over a decade, and the first time since Kurt shot me that I could remember being truly happy was when I was with Rachel.

She was on my right side, and I don’t see quite as well on my right side, so at first, I thought I was imagining things when I realized the baggie had about a dozen little white pills in it. All I could think was, What the hell is that?

“Take these. You’ll forget all about Rachel.”

She’d been crying. It touched me that she’d been crying over the idea that we might be over. That was when I really started loving her.

The night that I found out Rachel betrayed me, I went to the medicine cabinet above my sink, and I contemplated taking every pill in there.

And because I love her so much, I refuse to let her die today.

I wonder if she made any money tonight, before someone put a bullet through her chest.

??

Mason is taken away in handcuffs, mumbling to himself the whole time. He’ll never be a doctor.

She nods. “Yes, you’re probably right. It would be very stupid, wouldn’t it? Anyway, you better get her this coffee before it gets cold and she screams at you again.” She isn’t wrong. I reach out to take the coffee cup from the counter, but that’s when I see it.

A sprinkling of white particles dissolving into the black liquid. I squint down at the cup, trying to figure out what they are. But before I can, Dr. Bingham retrieves a plastic lid and pops it on top of the cup. I start to ask her about what I just saw, but then I shake my head. What am I supposed to say? Hey, why were there little white specks in the black coffee? I’ll sound nuts. It’s probably a visual hallucination from lack of sleep.

The psych resident picks up the cup of coffee and holds it out to me. “Good luck tonight,” she says. As I take th...