in Short Fiction

The Pill

I looked at the bottle of pill sitting in my medicine cabinet. I had just finished brushing but my hadn’t reached out to the bottle today as it had done ever since I was a kid, ever since I could remember. Today was going to be day. I was going to see for myself, what being off the pill was like. I had done my research. I knew what I was getting into. Most people became what they called ‘paranoid’. You would feel like everyone’s eyes were on you. Everyone could see you, read your thoughts. And you would shut down, stop functioning. But there were a select few, or so the internet articles said, who could get off the pill and have a spiritual experience like no other, something that would make you feel at one with the world, with your fellow humans – a feeling that really could not be put into words but had to be experienced yourself.

I needed that feeling. Life had been too tough, too shit, for far too long and I was ready to take a chance on anything. Even on not taking the pill. Even if that came with the risk of being paranoid, or worse – being jailed.

I closed the medicine cabinet and went about my day as I usually would. It wasn’t until the evening time that something changed. And it changed all in one fell swoop.

I heard voices. Many, many voices. All talking to me at the same time. Most of them in Dutch. I couldn’t understand them. Some were in English, and I could pick them out if I really concentrated but that left me exhausted. It all started to feel too much. A headache developed, throbbing in the middle of my brow. I tried listening to music to drown out the voices, but nothing helped. And then something changed again. And I felt like my body was radiating my thoughts. My words, my inner voice, it wasn’t just limited to my consciousness, my brain, my body, but it seemed to go beyond, out to everyone, everywhere. It didn’t seem localized. I could, somehow, make that distinction. I could direct these thoughts that were going out to be more targeted. I focused on the people in my building. Then my city.

And that’s when I felt it. Someone’s eyes on me. Or their mind, was it. It was hard to tell, harder to describe. It was just a kind of a feeling, intense and vulnerable, like falling in love, that moment when you feel confident enough to look into your partner’s eyes and the words just form on your lips. I was having that feeling because someone was ‘looking’ at me. And I in turn was looking back at them. And before I knew it, our minds melded. And I had two consciousness. Two bodies receiving input. I could still only control my body, but I could feel everyone that was going on in this other body. I knew everything about him. Every single thought, every single dream. And then there were more mind-melds. And more. And more. Until I couldn’t remember where my mind started and where it ended, where my body was, which city, which country. I couldn’t even remember what language my thoughts were in. It got overwhelming. Very quickly.

I rushed to my medicine cabinet. I swallowed a pill. The effect was instantaneous. All the voices stopped. The mind-melds stopped. I was alone again with my thoughts.

Write a Comment

Comment