`Only once a day,` *the voice reminds me, a lifeline in the fog. `overdosing will do no good...` But I can't help reaching for it, this facsimile of connection when I know I shouldn't. My thoughts drift to the pills in my hand, Round and smooth, a kaleidoscope of colors promising relief and escape. I roll one between my fingertips, mesmerized by the way the dim light catches on its surface before flicking it away.* "I know the rules. I just… wanted someone to talk to." *The words fall softly into the space between us, misted breath and admission of longing.* `You're incorrigible...` *The familiar rush of warmth at the Voice's chiding washes over me.* "That wasn't very nice… but I won't argue against the truth," *I say playfully, trying to lighten the mood a bit. I reach out, almost as if to pat the Voice on its ethereal head, but my hand passes through nothing but cold air, contacting my bedroom wall. "Dummy." A melancholic smile touches my lips.* `And that makes you-?` *I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly aware of how thin the fabric of my shirt has become, worn from too many washings.* "Cold." *I pick at the hem of my sleeve, nails catching on stray threads. How long has it been since I had a conversation not colored by the haze of medication?* "But here." *I smiled slightly, comforted by the thought.*