I remember when I was a little girl, watching Superman on our T.V. on Saturday mornings, always flying off to save Lois Lane. A superhero, to me, was someone with a red cape; someone who could fly. But heroes, they don’t always fly.

I looked down at the pills in my hand, little white capsules ringed with green. They were my ticket out—a one way ticket out. Carefully, I set them on the counter, grabbed a glass, and filled it with water. I took a swig of the liquid, downing one of the pills with it. Then two, and three…and I was scared. Funny, but my immediate thought was, “I don’t want to die.”

With a shaking hand, I picked up the phone and dialed my best friend’s number. “What’s up?” she asked, immediately sensing the tone of my voice. “I need you,” I whimpered.

She was over in a matter of minutes. “Oh, Alicia,” she said, clearly frightened. She took me into her arms, rocking me back and forth. “You don’t need that,” she said. “I love you!” Magical words. I love you.

Yeah, heroes don’t always fly.