Photography © Shannon O’Connor

 

Chained to the Medicine Bottle

Mary needs to take medication to prevent her from becoming manic. She doesn’t want to take pills, but she does, so she can appear to be a normal person. She’ll never be like everyone else, but she has to pretend, so she can stay out of the hospital.

One day, a war started and the mail didn’t come. Mary gets her medication through the mail because it’s cheaper that way, and she lives on a budget. During the war, Mary’s mail didn’t come as often. The medication did arrive, but it was slow, and she was anxious that she would go insane again.

The bombs went off, and people were shooting guns everywhere, but that wasn’t the worst aspect of the war for Mary. She needed her medication to keep her from thinking she was going to save the world. She knew if she were delusional, her life would be ruined.

She tried to get to work, but the war prevented her. The public transportation stopped running, and the roads were covered with tanks and soldiers.

“Where are you going?” one soldier asked her.

“I have to go to work,” Mary said.

“There’s no work, there’s a war, can’t you see?” the soldier said, spitting on the ground.

“But I need to buy food, so I need to work.”

“Just go home.”

Mary walked through the tanks. She didn’t know how she would survive.

She had enough medicine for a few months, but she would run out eventually.

Planes dropped pamphlets telling civilians to leave the area.

Mary didn’t have any children or pets, so she stayed.

She didn’t leave her apartment, because that’s where her medicine arrived.

She found food to eat, and she and her neighbors cooked canned soup on a fire outside. The weather was cold. She didn’t want to leave her home.

Months went by. Mary hid in her building as the war raged.

She took her last pills on a Wednesday. By Friday, she knew it was her mission to end the war.

“I am going to help you!” Mary screamed.

The soldiers laughed.

“You can’t do anything,” one said to her. “We’ll keep fighting, until the end.”

“But why? When every last building and person has gone from the planet? When all humanity is dead? I think you should stop fighting now, because if you don’t, we’ll all perish, and there will be nothing left.”

“Why don’t you be quiet? You’re nothing, you have no say in anything that goes on.”

Mary didn’t want to listen. She wanted to talk.

She walked across the country to get to the president. She made people listen to her on the way.

“We should stop this now, please. I know I might sound like a rambling lunatic, but I have a headache, and the war has to end,” she said to anyone who would listen.

She arrived at the capital of the country and addressed the president.

“Can we stop the war?” she asked.

“I would love for it to end,” the president said. “But it’s been going on too long, and there’s no way we can call a ceasefire now.”

“But why?” Mary said. “Why can’t we stop in the name of peace?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” the president said.

“Why does it have to be?”

“Everything is more complicated than it should be,” the president said. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow, and we can talk then?”

“I want to talk today! I want this to be over! I need my medication, and it hasn’t come in the mail, I have to tell everyone what’s wrong with the world, why we shouldn’t be at war, and how this is all stupid, and I’m afraid the world will end!”

“Why didn’t you just say so? I’m the president, I can get whatever you want.”

The president made a phone call, and even though it was the middle of a war, he acquired Mary’s medication, she took it, and after a few days, didn’t feel the need to rant about stopping the war.

“Thank you so much, Mr. President,” Mary said. “I feel much better now.”

“You’re welcome. You can go home, and live your life now.”

“But the war? Will it be over soon?”

“Probably not. But thank you for coming all this way, and sharing your thoughts.”

Mary made her way home, though the war still raged, she wanted to be resilient, and not complain, because if she did, people would know that she wasn’t taking her medication, and she was just a lunatic who didn’t make any sense.

 

Shannon O’Connor holds an MFA in Writing and Literature from Bennington College. She has previously been published in Oddball, as well as 365 Tomorrows, Sci-Fi Shorts, Ginosko Literary Journal and others. She lives in the Boston area and works in a hospital.