Where am I? What’s going on? Why is that light so bright? What happened? I don’t remember anything… What else is new. I must have blacked out again, didn’t I? What’s his name must have gotten worried. I think I’m at the hospital again, aren’t I? Or did I…
I lie on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, counting the tiles while he flails around on top of me. I guess I was attractive enough for him. I told him a few minutes ago that he was hurting me but it didn’t really matter to him. He took it as a compliment. He said, “Really?” smiled, and then started going harder. I didn’t know what to do so I didn’t say anything else. He looked over at me, told me that I was beautiful, and pushed my hair away from my face.
I look all around the room. The mirror is shattered. No matter what I do, it's shattered and I won't be able to put it back together. I won't be able to get the mirror back together. How do I get it back together? I try to call him again, it rang all the way through this time. He didn't even hit ignore. I scream out and throw my phone across the room, sitting on the bed and starting to cry, pulling the sweet red wine up to my lips and sipping it slowly.
I woke up to loud banging on the door. The police were there again. That must have meant I drank myself into oblivion again and he tried to call. I groaned a little and then got up, answering the door in just my t-shirt. "What is it this time?" I know I'm being more rude than necessary, but come on. It's... Oh. It's 1:30 PM. I didn't go to work after sending out... something about text messages? I don't know what he's talking about, but I assure him that I'm fine, I have no desire to hurt myself. That I just had a bit too much to drink and was probably acting irrationally.
I looked across the empty room into the mirror before lifting the bottle to my lips. Why even bother with the glass anymore? I know I'm going to drink the entire bottle. I let the bitter red wine into my mouth, pouring down my throat, burning just ever so slightly. Soon enough I would be able to accept things. Soon enough I would be laughing and I wouldn't care about the consequences of what I was doing. Soon enough nothing would matter anymore. I lift the bottle up again and pour the wine down just a little easier this time.
I forgive you. You lied to me and to everyone else but you just wanted to seem more interesting didn't you? You were a scared child and you were trying to hide the things going on at home. You didn't want anyone to know what was happening—they would have taken you away from your mother. You'd heard horrible things about the adoption process and the foster care system, and you KNEW no one would want someone your age, or your brother's age. What about your brother? You'd be separated. What if he had an asthma attack with someone who didn't know about his needs? He could die.