@raven-hellish-imp | from here
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The clattering of the pills in the bottle shocks him back to the present for a crucial moment, and a cold, clammy hand darts out to grasp the bottle. How bigās a dose again? How much will kill him and how much will shut up these voices in his head?
His hands shake as he unscrews the cap and tries to pour the pills into his hand. He takes five pills. Dry. Ten milligrams. Not enough. Can you overdose on Xanax? Probably. Heād dropped the bottle. Heās reaching for it again when they hit.
Those quick, short breaths stop for a moment, replaced with one long inhale. His hand drops, and his back slumps. His fingers are still shaking, but he looks less⦠on edge. Sedated, perhaps. The thoughts have ground to a halt, but the silence is a different kind of anxiety. A different kind of fear.














