Wrisomifu - back in the saddle again
Title: You Get What You Need
Fandom/Original Original
Rating: PG
Word count: 350
Written for 15_minute_fic. After 8 days of being off the wrisomifu wagon, I'm glad I jumped back on.
Mary didn’t know why Phillip survived; she was only glad that he did. After all, taking 30 grams of Tylenol could have killed him, or at least blown out his liver. But when she got home from grocery shopping, she found him lying on the sofa, two empty bottles near his hand, and immediately called 911. Phillip was drowsy but hadn’t passed out, and the paramedics were able to walk him out into the ambulance.
It was only when they’d been in the emergency department for a couple of hours and Phillip was hooked up to an IV, with N-acetylcysteine (the antidote for acetaminophen) coursing through his veins, that she allowed herself to cry.
“Why’d you do it?” she asked through her tears, glad that the E.D. staff had brought a cot into the treatment room for her.
Phillip glanced in her direction, his brown eyes barely open. “Dunno, Ma. I just couldn’t handle things.”
“What was so hard to handle?” she asked, hoping it didn’t provoke him. “Really, I need to know.”
He drew a deep breath. “Everything. Especially my classes.”
At 19, Phillip was struggling to find himself. He’d barely scraped through high school and now his second year at the local technical college had been filled with a litany of complaints as well as wasted grant money when he dropped two of his four classes. He was at school only a few hours each day and didn’t have a part time job. In Mary’s day, her father would have called him a moocher. But she wasn’t her father, and her only child had just swallowed a potentially fatal dose of medication simply because he couldn’t handle school.
“Have you considered getting any counseling at the college, sweetie?” she asked gently, reaching to hold his hand.
“Dunno. Maybe. They’d probably just think I’m a screwup, like Dad does.”
You might be right, she thought. She would wait to tell her ex. At the moment, just knowing that Phillip would survive was a gift. “Don’t worry about it now, sweetheart. Just get some rest. We can talk more about this later. . .”
Fandom/Original Original
Rating: PG
Word count: 350
Written for 15_minute_fic. After 8 days of being off the wrisomifu wagon, I'm glad I jumped back on.
Mary didn’t know why Phillip survived; she was only glad that he did. After all, taking 30 grams of Tylenol could have killed him, or at least blown out his liver. But when she got home from grocery shopping, she found him lying on the sofa, two empty bottles near his hand, and immediately called 911. Phillip was drowsy but hadn’t passed out, and the paramedics were able to walk him out into the ambulance.
It was only when they’d been in the emergency department for a couple of hours and Phillip was hooked up to an IV, with N-acetylcysteine (the antidote for acetaminophen) coursing through his veins, that she allowed herself to cry.
“Why’d you do it?” she asked through her tears, glad that the E.D. staff had brought a cot into the treatment room for her.
Phillip glanced in her direction, his brown eyes barely open. “Dunno, Ma. I just couldn’t handle things.”
“What was so hard to handle?” she asked, hoping it didn’t provoke him. “Really, I need to know.”
He drew a deep breath. “Everything. Especially my classes.”
At 19, Phillip was struggling to find himself. He’d barely scraped through high school and now his second year at the local technical college had been filled with a litany of complaints as well as wasted grant money when he dropped two of his four classes. He was at school only a few hours each day and didn’t have a part time job. In Mary’s day, her father would have called him a moocher. But she wasn’t her father, and her only child had just swallowed a potentially fatal dose of medication simply because he couldn’t handle school.
“Have you considered getting any counseling at the college, sweetie?” she asked gently, reaching to hold his hand.
“Dunno. Maybe. They’d probably just think I’m a screwup, like Dad does.”
You might be right, she thought. She would wait to tell her ex. At the moment, just knowing that Phillip would survive was a gift. “Don’t worry about it now, sweetheart. Just get some rest. We can talk more about this later. . .”