I used to mention it. I used to mention it to them, I used to mention it to the dog. Now it hides in the confines of concealed cages shaking and shuddering at the black shadowed memories. The glass is tipped back. Amber shaded change slips down her throat, the trigger to her gun of chemical mixtures and verbal vomit.
I no longer mention it.
It's easier to hurt myself than have someone hurt me.
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*Disclaimer : I am not in any way advocating or encouraging alcoholism as a self medicating form of dealing with ones possible problems or stress. I am not in any way stating that alcoholism is good or bad. I am not in any way assuming everyone who drinks is an alcoholic. Alcoholism is not something I believe should be joked about or minimized. I am not in any way advocating or encouraging self harm. This micro-fiction story is only a representation on what I myself as a person have experienced through living with someone who was an in-denial alcoholic. Any similarities to any persons, living or dead, is merely a coincidence and should be perceived as such. If you or anyone you know suffers from alcoholism please encourage them to seek the help they may need.*
About the Creator
Ady Evans
Due to someone hacking my original account I was forced to delete it & make a new one, so this is my new account.
My apologies to my old subscribers & those who enjoyed my stories. I will be republishing all my old stories soon.
Vale Perficientur
"My tears need a minute to find the edges of my face. If you'll please excuse me." The sarcasm stabbed into Juliana’s heart. Antonia glared at her from the pit of the Lyceum as her student fought to hold back tears that had nothing to do with the pain in her fingers. “You’re better than this, again.”
By Matthew Fromm2 days ago in Fiction
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