There were pills to get to sleep, pills to get up and go and pills to come down and so on in the vicious circle that could not be broken even if she wanted it to. There were so many bottles, it was alarming but they had all been prescribed so there was nothing to worry about; her manager had said as much as the Doctors knew what they were doing.
But this particular afternoon was hazy; cocktails started early as part of the working lunch but there was no food, or if there was, it went unnoticed as Ruby’s glass was never empty, her side never alone as she shone and worked her captivated audience.
Until she was in yet another hotel room that looked every inch like the rest, living out of a suitcase and unable to function without her meds; not wanting to function without them so were her insecurities, self loathing and desperation.
Unable to remember what she had taken and when, Ruby gingerly fingered the small orange bottle that would send her off into a dreamless, empty sleep; not caring if she ever awoke because as long as her dreams were empty, she was at peace. . .