White Pills, by Cindy Patrick

I have been preparing for what feels like my whole life. It will make or break my career, credibility, possibly future. My father’s voice drilling vehemently to get it right. It’s bad enough fearing speaking in front of a crowd, let alone a crowd who aren’t going to believe you. Shaking from a sleepless night and now a blistering headache to contend with. Remember the speech. Don’t think about strangers staring at you. I swallow the Tylenol, take extra for good effect and look down at the pill case. No, oh no. That was not Tylenol. Those were sleeping pills.