The rest of the evening passed smoothly. The usual chit-chat about how school was, how work was, what Sana had learned, and funny anecdotes from the day. Everything seemed normal: Sana’s parents had practically forgotten about the crisis on the news. Everything is going to be fine, Sana thought.

With dinner over, Sana was back in her room. Flopping directly onto the hot-pink bed ruined the perfectly made sheets. She didn’t care. Snuggling a fuzzy, heart-shaped pillow to her chest, she pulled the blankets over her body. She stared across her room at the bulletin board full of sticky notes and pictures, lost in a trance. She was cognizant of thoughts zipping by—snippets of information, things she had read on the news, whispers of how she would fare without the happiness pills, what would happen to her family: all amounting to an intense and crippling fear of the unknown. These thoughts had succeeded in robbing her of breath, in making her head spin. It seemed like Sana’s happy hormones were running out. Eventually removing herself from her daze, Sana sat up straight in bed and grabbed her phone from the nightstand to see if there were any updates on the news.

Things were the same, if not worse. The president had given an emergency briefing on the crisis, but it was more of a political stunt than a real solution. He urged the public to stay calm as the government “tried to work out a solution,” but honestly, how could he expect people to do that? At the top of the news app, there was a thin red bar that read “FIND PLACES NEAR ME THAT STILL HAVE THE PILLS IN STOCK.” Sana clicked it immediately. All of the stores near her were out of stock. Dad would have to drive at least four hours to have a chance at finding pills. This news was far from reassuring, and Sana resisted the urge to fling her phone across her room in frustration. She tried to imagine life without the pills, and immediately was reminded of parents yelling and loneliness.

For the rest of the night, Sana was in a weird on-off state, sleeping for a few hours and then waking up to extract herself from a bad dream. After jumping upright in bed with short, erratic breaths, she would grab the glass of water from her night table and sip, trying to soothe her throbbing headache. Eventually, her alarm chimed at 6:40. Finally, I can take the pills again. Sana had to make sure to have the pills only once a day – those who took it more often had experienced terrible side effects, including increased hallucinations, extreme fatigue, and in some cases, dyskinesia. She was glad that she could now finally escape her hellish worried state.

Sana headed to her bathroom to freshen up. She splashed icy water on her face and was just reaching for the tube of toothpaste when –

Someone screamed.

No. Not just someone. Mom.

Sana rushed out of her bathroom and down the stairs. The kitchen lights were on. Dad, who had thudded down the stairs right behind Sana, screeched to a halt before he crashed into Sana. Open-mouthed, they all stared at the empty, open cabinet, at Mom’s horrorstruck face.

“Someone stole our pills,” she whispered, her hands covering her mouth.

“Are you sure the bottle wasn’t just misplaced?” Dad asked, visibly worried. He scanned the inside of the cabinet and the surrounding kitchen area.

“I’m sure. I checked everywhere,” Mom replied, still in a faint voice

Sana grabbed the cabinet door for support, her head reeling. How could this happen? She especially needed the pills today, and they weren’t there. Dad pulled his hair in frustration and collapsed onto the nearby chair.

“I knew we needed to put it in a safe.” Dad massaged his temples with one hand, letting out a heavy sigh. “I was going to go out and buy one today.”

“I still can’t believe how this happened!” Sana exclaimed. “No other part of our house was touched. Why are we so unlucky,” she asked, her voice pained. Her vision began to blur, her eyes started to sting – entirely foreign sensations.

Dad tried for a smile. “Don’t worry, let’s try to stay calm. I took a day off from work today, and I’m going out now to scavenge for stores that still carry the pills. I’m sure I’ll find one,” he said. “In the meantime, beta, get ready for school. Otherwise, you’re going to be late. Also, try to avoid interacting with students other than your friends today – I’m not sure how they’re dealing with this crisis.”

Dad’s words did little to calm Sana down. She felt like she was being stripped of her right to happiness. The last thing she wanted to do now was to go to school. Reluctantly, Sana went upstairs and changed into her school clothes. Hoping that a sugar rush would do something to fix her mood, she grabbed a slice of cake left over from her last birthday party and a glass of orange juice. After gobbling her cake down and packing her backpack, she set off for school.

This time, as she approached the school building, she didn’t sense the usual cheery atmosphere. A ninth grader’s dad was yelling at him for not getting out of the car quickly enough, and a group of students Sana passed by were arguing over what each person’s role in the science project should be.

Out of nowhere, a ninth grader slammed right into Sana – BAM. The binder Sana was carrying fell onto the floor, all the papers – homework assignments, tests, and notes – in the sleeves had come out. Sana turned around to face the boy, but he was already gone.

Annoyed, Sana kneeled on the ground and began to collect her work. People passing by stepped on her papers, leaving dark shoe prints. Every time this happened, Sana, infuriated, looked up to give the person a piece of her mind. However, she stopped herself before words could come out of her mouth, remembering what her dad had said. Sana shoved her papers back into her binder in a quiet rage. Pulling her hoodie over her head and tightening the drawstrings, she walked through the school gates, hoping to avoid seeing anyone.

By the time Sana reached the biology classroom, she had calmed down slightly. Opening the door, she saw that the only person there was a janitor, who furrowed his brows upon seeing her. Sana quickly retreated back into the hallway before any interaction could take place and closed the classroom door. In the same hallway, she found one of her friends, Kristina, at her locker.

“Hey Kris, why isn’t anyone in bio?” she asked.

“We have a modified schedule today…emergency assembly to talk about the pill shortage and probably how the staff is dedicated to supporting us students during this difficult time,” she said in a mocking voice. “I bet it’s going to be a bunch of garbage.”

Sana allowed herself a small laugh. “You’re right, it probably is.” The two began to walk together toward the MPR, where the assembly was going to be held.

Trying to make conversation, Kris nudged Sana with her elbow. “Hey…did you know that Mr. Dawson comes to school on a motorcycle?” Kris asked with a smirk.

Sana’s eyes widened in utter disbelief. “No way,” she replied. A smile began to creep onto her face.

“He does!! I saw him yesterday. With a leather jacket and all. He thinks he’s so cool,” Kris laughed.

“I’ve never seen him on a motorcycle before!!” Sana exclaimed. “Doesn’t he usually drive that old Corolla?”

“Yeah, I know right! I think it’s new. You think he’s trying to impress someone?” Kris winked. “I hear he and Ms. Sherry are an item…”

Sana and Kris burst out into uncontrollable laughter, wondering how Mr. Dawson and Ms. Sherry would look together. Their giggles upset the tense atmosphere of the hallway, earning confused stares from students and teachers.

When the two parted ways to find seats in the MPR, Sana’s smile had gone. People pushed and jostled her from all sides, but she’d never felt more alone. Thoughts began to crowd her mind once again. What are we going to do? Will Mom and Dad go back to before? Is everything okay at home? Do we have enough –

The projector screen lit up, flooding the room with a whitish glow. The principal walked onto the stage with a microphone.

“Good morning, students,” he said. “The reason for our emergency assembly is, I hope, known to all of you. Our country is in an unprecedented happiness pill shortage. To be frank, the world as we know it has changed drastically within the last few days. Without the pills, our society is degrading bit by bit, piece by piece. This is no understatement, and I do not seek to hide reality from all of you.”

Dr. Smith paused. The MPR was completely quiet; no one dared to say anything. Some students had their mouths curved into the increasingly common downward shape, and others simply zoned out, not bothering to pay attention. For the most part, people didn’t know how to feel – they had never felt this way before. It was a combination of worry, uncertainty, and fear.

Dr. Smith continued. “But know that the staff here is ready to support all of you through this difficult time.” Kris was right. The expected “we’ll be there for you” attempt at reassurance.

“Now, I don’t want to keep you all from your classes for too long, but I would like to make you aware of tips and resources that can help you until things improve, and actions that will be taken on the part of the school to create a better learning environment.” Dr. Smith changed the slide on the PowerPoint, and there was a list of “Easy ways to stay happy during difficult times.”

“Unfortunately, we are now faced with a scenario similar to what we had before the pills came on the market, and we may have to revert to old ways to stay happy. Ways that have been proven to stimulate dopamine production by numerous scientific studies.”

“First, there are certain drugs available that can help directly stimulate dopamine production. These drugs used to be prescribed to individuals with depression – they were used as antidepressants. Of course, these drugs soon became obsolete with the happiness pills. The president has issued an executive order to make available large amounts of these drugs due to the present crisis. Make your parents aware of these drugs, which may be used only temporarily to boost happiness levels, and I emphasize temporarily. I would like to warn you that these drugs can have very serious side effects if taken in excess; people who overdose on dopamine-stimulating drugs can later on experience memory impairment, insomnia, and hallucinations. Make sure to follow the instructions on the labels of the bottles and consult with your health care provider first,” Dr. Smith said.

“Next, there are, of course, natural methods of boosting happiness levels, such as exercise, increased protein consumption, and adequate sleep. However, studies have shown that our brains today are much more susceptible to mood swings and irritability when not on the happiness pills, and restoring the normal level of happiness can be very difficult with traditional methods. Therefore, I encourage you to continue to practice common-sense procedures like the ones described above and available on this government website displayed on the PowerPoint, as it can still make a difference.

“Finally, the school has sent all of your parents an email with guidelines to stay happy as well as places that still offer the happiness pills, and we will continue to keep them posted on any new developments. In the meantime, please refrain from coming to school if you have any of the following symptoms: uncontrolled body movements, severe mood swings, or extremely low mood levels. We want to continue to ensure as normal of a school environment for our students as possible. We are all going through this together, and I urge all of you to stay calm. Thank you.” Dr. Smith exited the stage.

Once again, the auditorium fell into an eerie silence. No one wanted to move. Dr. Smith’s deep voice still echoed in the minds’ of the students, who had rarely seen their principal so tense and disturbed. Sana stared at the worn-out paint on the chair in front of her, lost in a haze. She felt like she was dreaming; frankly, reality didn’t seem real enough. Lightness came over her head, but the feeling was soothing, almost calming. It was the feeling of not having to care about what was happening around her, since nothing mattered.

The silence was soon interrupted when Dr. Smith instructed the teachers to lead their students back into the classrooms. The teachers seemed reluctant to get up, but, not wanting to upset their superior, they mustered enough strength to leave their seats and take the students back to class.

Back in Room 307, Ms. Moorthy stood in front of the class and projected her slides onto the whiteboard. In her hand was a large mug of coffee, which she sipped from every few minutes. “So class, today we’re going to be doing…” she yawned. “Excuse me. I’m just a little tired today. Today we’re going to be reviewing photosynthesis for our test on Monday. Take this opportunity to ask me any questions you have.”

The texture of her voice was different: it was no longer the loud, booming voice saturated with her self-proclaimed love for teaching. It was quiet, and ever so often, Ms. Moorthy would make a long pause, not saying anything, then recollect her thoughts and continue.

Sana remembered how it had been before the pills…when she was six, seven, eight… everything was dull and unclear…and suddenly, with the pills, everything seemed brighter, sharper. No one yelled at her. Studying became something enjoyable, almost addictive. Ms. Moorthy was always ready with a funny quip that helped her remember information. She loved it all. She loved studying.

Ms. Moorthy’s droning voice did not entice any student to pay attention  – students in the back row had dozed off ten minutes into class. The student diagonally in front of Sana was doodling in her notebook, and a few in the front row were staring out of the window.

Sana couldn’t sleep, thanks to the sugar-packed breakfast she had had that morning. She stared intensely at the whiteboard, trying her hardest to concentrate and live up to her title of teacher’s pet. Drawn on the board was a diagram of a chloroplast, labeled with the various parts – the stroma, granum, thylakoid membrane, outer membrane, and inner membrane. Though Ms. Moorthy instructed the class to take notes and reminded them that this would be on their next test, Sana wasn’t fully paying attention. She was trying, certainly: she stared at the board in the hopes of understanding photosynthesis through some miraculous osmotic process. However, her mind wasn’t cooperating. As her eyes drilled into the whiteboard, her mind was searching for something, something that wasn’t on the board. Sana didn’t know what it was. She stared at the board, blissfully ignoring Ms. Moorthy’s droning voice, until the bell rang at 10. Her hands gathered her books and threw them into her tote bag, and her legs lifted her body off the chair and took her to her next class. Her actions become robotic and mindless – Sana felt no reason to burden her mind with her gloomy reality.

The school day proceeded, but it was unlike any other day. The school environment had changed: students were no longer actively participating in class; instead, people were fidgeting with pencils, doodling in their notebooks, or staring at the whiteboard daydreaming. Chairs scraped against the floor, students clicked their pens ferociously. Every time Sana walked the halls of her school, she heard yelling…just before fourth period, an eleventh grader shoved a younger student into the locker right next to Sana’s. Frazzled at the moment and forgetting to grab her books, Sana bolted to her next class.

Finally, school was over. It was Friday. Sana was grateful that now she would have the weekend to herself. She walked out of the school building and onto her normal route home. It wasn’t a long walk – fifteen minutes tops. Sana came to an intersection, pressed the pedestrian button, and waited. While she waited, she instinctively whipped out her phone and checked the news. Her heart sank. There were riots in the country’s major cities, and robberies and killings were being committed every day. Despite the loud noise of vehicles, Sana forgot that she was standing at a busy intersection until she felt a nudge from the person behind her. She quickly slid her phone back into her pocket and crossed the street.

This time, the walk home seemed to take forever. It was an unusually sunny day, and Sana painfully endured the intense heat against her neck as she was acutely, annoyingly aware of the sweat trickling down her forehead. Her feet, feeling leaden, were begging for rest. Her muscles cramped as she approached the park close to her house. This time, the park was abandoned – there were no little kids running around playing tag or hide and seek. In around fifteen minutes, Sana reached home. Once she entered the house, she mustered enough energy to walk upstairs into her room, where she threw her backpack next to her desk and flopped onto the bed, exhausted. She had never been so tired after a day of school. Within a few minutes, her eyes closed, and she drifted off into a deep sleep.

Sana woke up at 2 pm the next day to the sound of a neighbor’s dog barking aggressively. She was startled by her own tardiness, to the point that her brain froze, unaware of what was happening. Is today Saturday? What happened to my alarm… Not having the will to get out of bed, she allowed herself to continue lying comfortably in her sheets. Just five more minutes. Sana brought up the blanket over her shoulders and slept. The next time she opened her eyes, it was already 2:45. She had to wake up now and eat something – her stomach was growling fiercely. She lay in bed for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep had wiped her mind blissfully blank, but now reality returned. The pills were gone. She couldn’t be happy. She didn’t have the desire to get up. But then again, she had homework, and she did not want to risk her status as the best student in tenth grade.

So, Sana dragged herself out of bed, brushed her teeth, and combed her hair. Usually, combing her hair was a relaxing activity – there was a sense of satisfaction she obtained from transforming the untidy tangles into a neat braid. Today, she felt annoyed as she pulled the comb through the unusually large number of knots.

Half-satisfied with her hair, she started walking downstairs. On her way, she passed by her parents’ bedroom and found them both fast asleep. Sana stepped in, hoping to wake them up. Next to the bed lay a few bottles of sleep medicine, accompanied by a painkiller. Her parents were clearly trying their hardest to sleep for as long as possible. It was their way of escaping an unpleasant reality. Sana felt acutely disappointed. Memories of her childhood crystallized in her mind…the parents that were uninterested in their daughter and in the world around them had returned, but this time with greater intensity. Sana wondered if the parents on the happiness pills were superficial and if the parents that currently lay in bed were the real ones.

Deciding there was no point in waking them up, Sana walked quietly out of the room, closing the door behind her. Downstairs, she poured herself a full cup of coffee, hoping it would energize her. This activity proved to be surprisingly draining. As she entered the living room, Sana tripped over an empty bottle of pills that lay on the floor, spilling coffee all over the nearest armchair.

The scalding hot coffee left a large brown mark over the previously pristine white chair. Sana clenched her teeth. This is exactly what I needed. A new mess to clean up. In a rage, she kicked the leg of the armchair, underestimating the power of the chair to deliver an equally powerful blow to her foot.

OWW!! Sana shrieked in pain. Grabbing her injured foot, she collapsed onto the armchair. Tears started to form in her eyes.

Her parents did not hear a thing – an overdose of a heavy sleep medicine had guaranteed that they could sleep through an atomic bomb. Not a sound came from their room.

Sana sat in the spoiled armchair, massaging her toes. She examined her foot – no visible damage had been done. Sana glanced at the clock in the living room. It was 3:15. She couldn’t stay in the chair forever – she needed to get up. Through her pain, she walked upstairs and into her bathroom. As she looked into the mirror and splashed water onto her face, she observed some noticeable changes in her appearance. There were bags under her eyes. Her hair was still a mess. Tears made strands of dark brown hair stick onto her face. What is wrong with me?! Sana grabbed a towel, rubbed her face dry, and threw it onto the ground.

Deciding to skip breakfast after the traumatic coffee incident, Sana began her homework. She opened her planner. Under “Friday,” there were a few scribbles and scratched-out words. Ugh! Why didn’t I write anything down!! She closed her planner forcefully, causing the cover that was already hanging by thread to fall off completely. Ok, solution: message friends and try to remember what happened on Friday. Sana threw open her laptop and messaged five friends, “what hw did we get again?? i zoned out friday.” Waiting for responses, Sana racked her brain. There’s a bio test coming up, right? A biology test sounded vaguely familiar.

Sana opened her biology notebook to the last entry she had written. Ok, it’s probably on photosynthesis, since that’s what we learned last. Sana knew how to study – it was one of her favorite activities, something that she excelled at. She turned to the first lecture on photosynthesis – “Intro to Photosynthesis” was written in calligraphy at the top of the page. Sana tried to get her mind to concentrate. “Plants are photoautotrophs. This means they use light energy and carbon dioxide to produce organic compounds, i.e. sugars. This process, which converts light energy into chemical energy, is photosynthesis.” An equation right underneath the neat bullet points summarized the overall process of photosynthesis. Sana continued to read the notes in her head, distracted. After finishing the intro section, she had had quite enough. I deserve a break.

She checked her computer for messages from her friends and found none. Sana now had nothing to do besides the pile of work that she had already deemed not worth her time. She rested her head on her notes and stared at her white wall. Every time she tried to tell herself to sit up and study, she ignored the plea. You’re going to fail the bio test, a small voice inside her head whispered. The thought of failing a test for the first time in her life scared Sana, but she didn’t have the will to study. Her stomach was growling loudly now, so she decided to go back downstairs to get a snack.

Opening her refrigerator, she found that there was hardly any food left: a leftover piece of tandoori chicken from a few days ago, a half samosa that had been there for a few weeks now, and a few eggs were the only things that required little preparation. Annoyed by the lack of options, Sana slammed the refrigerator door shut. Her mind was busy yet empty, thoughts were flitting by that she could hardly understand. She felt like she was stuck in a room full of babbling, incomprehensible voices – the noise was pervasive, but she was still alone. Her jaw was tightly clenched, but she didn’t even notice it. Sana gripped her head, hoping that the action would somehow discipline her mind to think straight. She hated this new feeling, and she wanted to get rid of it promptly.

Maybe a walk will clear my mind. Sana took the keys from the kitchen table and opened the front door, conveniently ignoring the mess from the coffee incident. She took in the fresh air – it certainly had a calming effect on her muscles. Sana stepped onto the pavement and turned left, exiting the neighborhood, and came into the heart of the city. That was one thing her parents liked about the house – it was close to the city yet slightly removed from the noise. Sana passed by a large, grey apartment complex. Almost every Saturday, there would be some party going on in there, and the air outside would be filled with pop songs or familiar Bollywood music. Today, however, it was silent, and the silence was off-putting.

Even though it was evening, the time when most people headed back from work, not many cars were on the road. Instead, the road was littered with large pieces of glass and metal. The sun had also begun to set early today – the sky was turning a navy blue. After walking for around fifteen minutes and feeling somewhat better, Sana was about ready to head home. She turned around at the familiar alley that she passed by every day from school. Sana passed into the narrow space, hopping over open pizza boxes, zigzagging across strewn recycling bins. It made her feel like a child again, playing hopscotch with her friends.

When all of a sudden…

BANG!

A gunshot.

Someone screamed.

Sana stumbled – collided with the ground. Gravel tore into her skin. She rolled over behind a fallen recycling bin.

Quick footsteps seemed to be coming in Sana’s direction. Sana could feel her heartbeat in her head, an unfamiliar lightheadedness came over her. She carefully peeked out from behind the recycling bin and caught a glimpse of the thief. His mouth was covered, and he was dragging a body behind him. Sana’s stomach lurched. No, she thought. No, no, no, no. I can be next.

Her city used to be very safe – in fact, the worst thing that she could ever recall happening was a boy hitting a baseball at another boy’s face, to get severely punished by his parents.

The man stuffed the dead body into a trash bin and slammed the lid on, making a large clanging sound. It didn’t seem like he was trying to hide his actions. Shouldn’t he be running away from cops?? Sana’s eyes were glued to the man, desperately hoping he would leave soon.

The man glanced about, making sure the coast was clear.

But then he zeroed in on the recycling bin.

The one bin behind which Sana was hiding.

She quickly drew back behind the bin, heart hammering. But her elbow knocked over a rusty old paint can. And with it her heart.

Shoot. She closed her eyes, as if that would somehow make her invisible to all. All the prayers her grandma had taught her returned at this moment.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

The footsteps drew closer. Sana continued praying. Her skin was drenched with sweat. The silence was frighteningly oppressive.

But eventually, she had to scream. Because hands had closed around her arms, hauling her out of hiding with enough force to make her teeth rattle.

Sana flinched, turning her face to the side to avoid a possible blow. The man, gripping her arms tightly like she was a rag doll, slammed her against the brick wall. Sana’s head spun from the impact. Stars burst across her vision. Screaming was useless, and squirming only made the man tighten his grip on her arms, cutting off all circulation. Sana barely mustered enough energy to face the man. The piece of cloth was gone from his face. Shock rooted Sana to her spot.

It was Aaryan! Star of the school. Perfect GPA. Loved and popular and perfection embodied. Someone she strived to be more like. How’d he end up here?

Sana’s muscles relaxed of their own accord. Maybe there was a way out of this mess.

Aaryan furrowed his brows. “Wait a second. Aren’t you Sana, that tenth grader at school?”

“Yeah, I am,” Sana responded.

“What are you doing here?”

“I…I just went for a walk and was going back home,” she replied.

“Not anymore you aren’t.” He drew out a gun from his pocket and pressed it against Sana’s forehead. “Can’t let you go around telling people.”

Beads of water started to fall from Sana’s eyes. “Please, let me go!” she screamed, hoping that someone in her surroundings would listen. The street was eerily silent. She couldn’t even hear the wind, let alone someone coming out to help her. Sweat accumulated on her forehead. Her breathing was erratic, uncontrolled. Aaryan looked like a monster, nothing like the popular, smiling boy she had seen in school.

Hoping to stall, Sana asked the boy a question, an honest one. “Why are you doing this?”

The boy lowered his gun, and he loosened his grip on Sana’s arm. She had asked the one question he kept asking himself every day. His expressions mellowed slightly. He let out a heavy sigh. “Because it gives me pleasure. Pleasure that went missing with the happiness pill shortage.” he responded. “Revenge is a great way to keep yourself moving. Instead of the rest of this town, which is moping around. This gives me purpose.” His voice was almost cracking. It was clearly a rehearsed speech.

Sana looked into the boy’s eyes. They were cold, distant. Aaryan wasn’t really there. “Please don’t do this,” she begged.

“I have to.” If Sana wasn’t mistaken, she sensed a tinge of regret in the boy’s voice.

Sana screamed for help again at the top of her lungs. The city was quiet.

The boy pursed his lips. He lifted his gun once again, pressed it deep into Sana’s forehead, and pulled the trigger. The last thing Sana saw was the crimson sunset over Aaryan’s head.

The pain lasted for a short second. Then, dark curtains fell over her vision.

Now, emotions like happiness, regret, and revenge would hold no weight.