Author: A e s t h e t i c Butterfly PM
Maybe I'll get drunk again, to hide the pain in these cold blue eyes.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Tragedy - Words: 674 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 1 - Published: 05-27-12 - id: 3026535
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I just want to disclaim the lyrics at the beginning of this prologue; they belong to Ed Sheeran and his amazing musical career.
I'm not really sure where I'm going to go with this yet, but it wouldn't get out of my head. I wanted to see if people thought it was any good and if I should continue it. Tell me what you think? :)
I wanna be drunk when I wake up,
On the right side of the wrong bed.
And every excuse I made up,
Tell you the truth I hate.
What didn't kill me didn't make me stronger at all.
I settled down into the black leather recliner, a glass of gin and tonic in my hand. I had knocked a few of these back already, so many that I had lost count. It was just a typical weekday night in my house though. I drink. Mom snorts. Taylor does his homework.
I take a sip of the alcohol and relish in the warmth that trickles down my throat. My mind is clouded and I'm beginning to get the dizzying feeling, which is normally followed by either passing out or throwing up. I sincerely hope that it is passing out. I mean, that's what I do this for. That, and the forgetting; the forgetting is definitely a bonus.
"Hey, Hail..." Taylor creeps up to me, trying to avoid making sound and waking up the dead-beat mother who had beat me to the punch and already passed out on the couch. I turn my blurry eyes to him, trying to focus on his nine-year-old face. Why can't I just hold myself together for him? Why can't I be strong for him? The thought creeps through my mind, unbidden. I blink rapidly, trying to shoo the thoughts from my mind. Normally, the alcohol does that for me.
"What?" I rasped; my vocal cords were rusty from the lack of use. He nervously glanced at Wanda, our mother, and then back at me.
"Could... could you help me? With my math homework?" I sighed in irritation.
"Taylor... you know I dropped out of school, right? What makes you think I know how to do that shit?" I snapped, then instantly regretted it. The look on his face... "God, I'm-I'm sorry Tay. Of course I'll help." I staggered out of my chair and instantly ran into the coffee table, sloshing gin and tonic over my hand.
Taylor grabbed me by my arm to help steady me. I'm such a piece of shit. The only thing I could think, the only thing I normally did think, crossed my mind once more. Taylor helped guide me, his eighteen-year-old sister, to the table. He sat me down in a chair and carefully pried my fingers from the glass. He took it over to the sink and dumped the remaining contents of my drink, much to my dismay, down the drain. He ignored my complaints, ignored my pleas, and instead grabbed a second glass from the cupboard and poured some water into it. He set this glass down in front of me.
"Drink it, it'll help."
I obediently took a sip and scrunched up my face. How did it get to this point? I wondered, as I stared down at the cup of water. How did it get so bad that Taylor has to take care of me, instead of the other way around?
"I'm... so... sorry." I managed to blurt out around my thick tongue. The water was just making me feel worse. "I'm a shitty-sh-shitty sister." I shook my head, making the room spin. "You deserve so... so much better than me, you know?"
Taylor's wide-eyed look was the last thing I saw before I keeled over backwards. I was unconscious before my head hit the floor.
Tell me what you think, please and thank you! :D