Owen pulled out his cell phone and scrolled down the list of contacts until he came to the number that said Aunt Gerty. Inside, he passed up the home phone digits and went to the cell number. He called it, knowing that Aunt Gerty--whom he seldom talked to outside of holidays--wouldn't answer.

"What's up?" Craig Jensen said upon answering. Craig and Owen went to school together, but they never spoke unless Owen was in need of his services.

"Craig, man, it's Owen. I need more of the stuff." His voice was low and secretive, as if being caught talking to this person would result in jail time or something worse.

"Dude, can't help. You cleaned me out last time."

"So get more."

"No can do. I'm not seeing my guy until Saturday."

"What? No, I can't-"

"Sorry, dude."

"Wait, Craig," Owen said, but it was too late. Craig had already ended the call.

Miffed, Owen almost threw his phone against his bedroom floor, but thought better of it and merely squeezed it in his hand until his annoyance subsided. Then he searched the yellow pages for the local bait shop's number. He dialed it.

"Bob's Bait, how can I help you?" Craig said upon answering.

"Craig, hear me out, man." Owen worked hard to keep his voice calm. Inside he was about to explode with anxiety.

"Man, I can't talk right now. Call me Saturday."

"Saturday? But I can't wait until Saturday. I've got a serious game tonight, you know," Owen said. He had given up the air of secrecy and his voice grew gradually louder.

"Yeah, which is probably why you need to lay off anyway. Do you know what would happen if they tested you and found benzos in your system?"

"I know. But I need-"

The line went dead again. He'd been dismissed a second time. Owen sighed and leaned his head against the cool wall, trying to gather his thoughts. He'd go down to the bait shop, but it would be a wasted trip. If Craig was really cleaned out, he couldn't materialize it out of thin air. Owen was screwed. Craig always supplied the drugs he needed to mask the thoughts. If only he didn't have to use so much lately and caused Craig to run out...

Now Owen would have to go to a doctor or shrink for the pills, or wait until Saturday. No way can he see a doctor. That meant coming out to his parents. No can do. They'd have him committed. His life would be ruined. There was likewise no way he could go without the medication. He just couldn't focus. He couldn't be the good son, the best player, Ivy League worthy without it. Those thoughts, those urges, they were just too strong. He'd have to find some home remedy for dulling them.

His chest tightened, recalling the vision of Renee in class. It was probably just the mental reflection that he was tired of her. She was tedious, superficial, and redundant, never offering anything unique to a conversation, never thrilling him in any way except his imagines. He Imagined her turning to him in her seat and smiling that stupid fake smile she puts on when she cheers, only this time there was blood running down the side of her face and her eyes were dull. The worst part was that the thought made him happy. And that made him afraid. That part of him had to be locked away at all costs.

Renee wasn't even the only one. He felt this way about basically everyone around him, with the exception of perhaps his mother and most times his father. In his opinion, people were more often than not a waste of the air they breathed. On some days, like today and the past week or so, he found his mental cup labeled disdain overflowing. He needed to hide his contempt for others--the contempt that ran deep.In order to fool them he had to be like one of them, but he couldn't be like one of them without help, and his source of help was currently dry. Owen was locked in a catch 21.

His options were very thin and he knew it. At this point, he could hide away and fake being sick, miss the game and ruin his future, disappoint his parents and his faux girlfriend. From there, his social life that made up his facade would begin to crumble. Or he could fight through the thoughts, try to play, most likely cause them to lose the game, and deal with those consequences. It seemed just another way to ruin what he's worked so hard for all these years. Nothing would do. He needed the pills.

Knowing that he couldn't come out and ask anyone for help to get what he needed, he turned to the only place he could think of: the internet.