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What If Makayla Sapienza Skylar sat on the edge of the dock, her toes tickled by the warm waves gently crashing against her. Her phone sitting on a towel next to her played the top country hits playlist while she fished. She carefully pulled a plastic bag from her tackle box, a tiny clear bag with little blue pills in it. Plopping one in her mouth and taking a swig of Gatorade, she laid back on the dock and let the sun soak into her skin. The back of her head started to tingle as she started coming up. A fish nibbled at her line, but she just held on to the pole to make sure it stayed out of the lake. Her skin tingled as a wave of warmth flowed through her. High as a kite, she sat there and enjoyed the euphoric feeling of an oxycodone high. She reeled in her line and set her pole next to her, carefully wrapping up the hook so she wouldn’t accidentally step on it. Placing the towel closer to the edge, she scooted off the dock and dipped into the warm water. Living on a rather shallow lake has its perks, one being that the water is usually very warm. The water came up to her hips, encasing her legs in the warmth. She grabbed her innertube and rope, tying one end to the dock and the other to the tube, and jumped up on top of it. Floating on the gentle waves was so intensely relaxing it was almost overwhelming. Between the music and the water, she drifted off into a deep sleep. She woke up to raindrops pounding on her body. The sky had gone dark with heavy clouds, and the wind whipped her long blonde hair into her face as she sat up and started to pull herself back in with the rope. Panic surged through her body as she realized this was about to be a bad storm. Grabbing her stuff, she sprinted up the hill and headed inside her house. She left her fishing pole and innertube on the floor in the living room and headed towards the bathroom to wash the lake water off herself. The hot water of the shower revived her senses. She could feel her body relax as she slid down the shower wall and sat on the floor. She got out and wrapped herself in a towel and walked to her room. She thought about home and how her family was doing. It had been months since she talked to them, and even longer since she last saw them. She missed her mom and brother and sister and wished she could see them. She left because her father didn’t want her to go to college; he wanted her to stay home until she got married then pop out a bunch of babies and be a housewife the rest of her life. She wanted to get married and have kids someday; she just wanted to be a social worker first. He disagreed with her plan and kicked her out the day she started classes. She moved into a rundown apartment with her friend, who got her to start smoking marijuana. Once she graduated, she moved to South Carolina, chasing a warmer climate than the icy winters of Wisconsin. That same friend suggested using Oxycodone to numb the pain of losing her family, and gave her a goodie bag before she left, starting a weekend habit. Heading back into the living room, she grabbed the baggie of pills from her tackle box and popped another in her mouth. She didn’t want to miss her home
