What are those pills?
Vitamins. A little nootropic. For memory. Nothing special.
This “nothing special” scared me the most.
But the next day my father was transferred to one of his clinics. The procedures have begun. I saw him get him out of bed, how he could hold the glass alone again.
And when at nine Julian put the pill in my palm and handed me a glass of water, I swallowed it.
The first nights
The first few nights, everything seemed like a stronger sedative.
The pill had a metallic taste, as if a mixture of sugar and rust. After ten minutes, the room slightly began to smudge along the edges. The lamp next to the bed glowed more yellow, the wallpaper was breathing, the shadows on the ceiling were reaching out.
After a few more minutes, I just… I was out.
Not like a normal dream. There were no dreams, there was no “I fall asleep, I wake up.”
There was “I’m here – I’m gone – I’m here again.”
In the morning I woke up with a terribly heavy head, and after a whole night of control in mathematics, which I do not remember a single task.
“You’ll get used to it,” Julian said as he saw I closed my eyes. “Your brain is working more than before.” That’s good.
I had made a deal with the devil. I had no right to complain, was I?
