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Under-Aged
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HendersonGirl99 PM
"She thought that she could buy happiness by, by the bottle," -The Fourth Drink Instinct by Cute Is What We Aim For
Rated: Fiction T - English - Hurt/Comfort - Words: 614 - Published: 01-30-13 - Status: Complete - id: 3096927
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Under-Aged

I actually wrote this story awhile ago, and it just now making on to here, but I still hope it's good. Also it is based off the song "The Fourth Drink Instinct" by Cute Is What We Aim For.


Delilah walks inside, fake I.D. in her hand. She is next to too many other people in this place that aren't in a good state of mind anymore, but then again, neither was she. She had decided that age shouldn't stop her from having a little walks over to the counter and orders the most appealing thing she could think of. They all had weird names 'The weirder the better, I guess,' she thinks as the bar tender hands her an apple martini.

She can't help but think it tasted wonderfully, the sweet taste. The alcohol was already was taking over her petite, virgin to the liquid, body. Everything is fuzzy, she can't sit still, and she can't walk straight. The bar tender had told her she had enough and that she was better off sober in a voice full of false concern.

"No, no, just one more," she slurs out, "And this time make it, a, a, a, a piƱa colada!" She exclaims, full of slurs. She could barley get the simple name of the beverage out. The bar tender couldn't refuse her, so he made her the beverage. Reluctantly, he hands it to the child. She couldn't have been more than seven-teen, well under the minimum drink age of twenty-one.

That one more drink quickly adds up to four. that teenager is well over drunk now. She can't take one step without falling over. Her body feels heavy. Her mind can't function properly, everything is just wrong. She was a smart girl with a bright future. She is on the National Honor Society, always has straight A's, and has never truly gotten in trouble with anyone. If anyone found out what she was doing, her whole future would go down the can barely keep her eyes open now. She is still sitting at the bar, but she hasn't asked for a drink in awhile. Her breath and body has an alcohol stench laced all over it. She can't keep conscious anymore. Her mind is blank.

Two men walk into the very same bar. The see Delilah in this vulnerable state, pasty skin, messy, tangled blonde hair, and decides that she is their new pray. They walk over to her and ask her if she wants to go home. She weakly shakes her head, knowing her parents would kill her if she came home in this state. "Good," The taller of the two men whisper as they pick her up out of the chair, "because that's not where your going."

The stubbier of the two opens the door as the other all but drags her two the car. They pull away. The two start to talk about one night stands and three ways, but the alcohol wouldn't let her understand their conversation. Even if she wasn't under-aged, this would have happened. She may have been smart, but she was naive too. She should have known better, but her innocence got in the way of that. It was her braveness that allowed her to walk into the bar, and into her doom. It's our own lack of fears that can cause the stickiest of situations. As she lays on the bed after everything that had happened, after everything those two did to her, she realizes that she learnt that the hard way.

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