by Lady Bianca
A prose poetry account in first-person of Lucy, Ritalin, and the end of Season 5.
I was only 20 minutes late
It's not like I died or anything.
But god, I just can't do anything this morning.
Didn't sleep last night, haven't slept for 2 days.
"You shouldn't be on it."
He told me, like he has any right
to tell me what my business is. How stupid
does he think I am anyway? But I'm trying to stay off.
Missing 2 days of sleep
really does wonders for your
energy level. I haven't felt this
tired since studying for my first year exams.
I'm trying to stay off
really I am. But my head is
turning into a nightmare. Everything
is too bright, too loud, too damned distracting.
No sleep and I have to present
to Dr. Greene, and god, Romano is right
there. Of course I drop my notes. This is
shaping up to be a really great day. Like usual.
Kid drives a car.
I present to Dr. Greene
but not well enough. He's right,
I'm usually much better with children.
Like Seth Willows.
I totally forgot that I was
supposed to be checking on him.
Psych got him, but I can't make these mistakes.
A lost kid,
an angry kid, and
they treat horses, don't they?
Focus, Lucy. Don't go quitting on me now.
I just can't do it
any more, not like this
I'm trying so hard for him. Wait,
for him? Where did that thought come from?
But for now
my head is everywhere
and every thing. Is concentration
Really a good trade-off for being off meds?
I was prescribed them anyway,
so I'm not doing anything wrong. I
might kill someone if I'm not careful.
So wouldn't it be safer for the patients?
God, if I could
just get one clear thought
out, maybe I could find this worth
it. But I think my mind is now made up.
They're right there,
in my locker, waiting. I
must have anticipated this little
problem. I know I told him I was off them.
What he doesn't
know can't hurt him.
Stay out of my business, Carter.
My locker. Now. It's the only way.
The break room is
practically empty now so
no one can see just how much
I have riding on