“No put it down.” I said to myself in the mirror as I pulled the scissors toward my hair. “But you’re fat! No, but you’re ugly…Jason even said it!” I touched the desiccated tears on my face and slammed the scissors into the sink. I went into my purse and stared at the pills Dr. Summings had prescribed to me a while back. I had brought them with me after the last hospital visit. I knew I would just be going backwards by taking new pills, but I needed something. I needed something to make me feel sane. Plus, Jason and Paul supported me taking these new pills. Kathy was even begging me to.
I took a pill and then took a deep breath.
It was silent.
“Baby!” Paul called out for me as he came running into the hotel room with a hotdog in his mouth. “Lily, what are you doing?”
I ignored him and continued to stare at myself in the dirty mirror. I didn’t look like myself anymore. I was already petite sized, but it looked like I had lost about ten pounds. If I continued to lose weight, I would be like Nicole Richie that time she got so skinny. I did not have puffy bags under my eyes like all the other celebrities. I had red eyes from lack of sleep. I had not slept a full night in a long time.
“I’m so ugly, Paul,” I whispered.
He sighed. “No you’re not!” He grabbed my hand, pulled me into the room, and sat me on the bed before I could do anything regrettable. He grabbed the prescription bottle out my hand. “Lily, Dr. Summings is a real doctor. I know I'm telling you this a little too late and I shouldn't have lied to you. But, I think—”
“I took the pills,” I whispered. “I just want to sleep again and feel normal. I don't even care if these new pills make me feel like a zombie. I just want my life back.”
“I'm proud of you.”
“How do you deal with a mess like me?” I cried. “I'm so ugly now.”
“You’re not ugly,” he snapped.
“Jason thinks so.”
Paul stayed silent at a time when he should throw a massive fit and defend me. He turned his head so he wouldn’t make eye contact with me. “What’s wrong with you? You have been acting so bizarre lately. Like today, I said ‘oh it’s Ellen’ and you usually always laugh when I compare everyday people to celebrities,” Paul said as he poured me something to drink.
“Honestly, Paul, I don’t know. I am just as baffled as you are. I feel like I have lost self-control. I think I am at the stage where child stars fade. It’s my time to fade and get hooked on drugs.”
“Okay, you’re creepy,” he muttered. “Please don’t get hooked on drugs. I'm just happy you didn't get overly addicted to XANAX.” He sat next to me on the bed and stayed quiet—maybe thinking the same as me. “So, what really happened that day in France?”
“You’re asking me?” I said.
“Yes, no one else is here,” he said.
“Well, I don’t remember.”
“You do. I can tell you remember!”
“No I don’t!” I jumped up and walked to the bathroom angry with Paul. “I really don’t!”
“Okay fine,” he said in a disbelieving tone. “I just wanted to know how you ended up the way you did.”