It jingles,
one of those that are meant to go on lanyards but had ended up on my backpack as most things that aren't meant to be there do (see: tamagotchi, clothing button, safety pin…)

But it fits perfectly, I think, along all the rest
A sparkly blue image of a bottle with colorful flowers and smiles as the pills, and a prescription of
"Take your meds! :)"

Now, I don't need the reminder, seeing that I don't administer medication to myself (as if that'd stop me from collecting the white tablets the same way I collect jewelry boxes and bottle caps),
but there was hope that it would be useful to another prescription-riddled fellow.

A friend turns out to be one of these fellows,
but they're more amused by the shiny blue bottle and its implications than its intention.

"What do you take?" they ask.

I think about how invasive this question is, but I can't just reject it - its in good nature and I wouldn't want to be rude. But I had a pretty nice clean slate at the school, not one mental freak-out to taint my image yet.

And so, I try to avoid the question, but they persist.
And so, I say, "Escitalopram, 5 mg" because its too hard to utter that part of me that I keep so deep inside,
that seems to want to drag me with it,
deep deep inside myself.

They don't take the answer, asking what it's for.
I hesitate from internal panic before submitting.
"Depression, and anxiety," I say, as it were as much as a joke as I am.

"Oh," and then they look at me with that all too familiar look.
That look that questions how could someone so bubbly and loud and blissfully unaware of the wider world hold that kind of darkness within them.

I laugh at my joke,
at my pitiful self,
and continue on with self-deprecating ramblings.

"Did you hear about that specialized school that got a dog for the students because suicide rates were so high?"
"What? That's totally not fair."
"Maybe a few of us just have to sacrifice ourselves to convince them to get us one"