The Final Binge

The sun beat down as Lucas opened his eyes to the world, weathered green paint filled his view as he rolled over onto his back. He lay in daze, doing his best to fight waking up fully. A seagull in the distance and the sound of waves shocked his mind back to reality however, quickly sitting up to examine his surroundings, he became aware that he was on the back deck of some cheap beachside motel. He should be panicking considering he lives nearly three hundred miles from the nearest beach, but he was accustomed to waking up in strange places. The last thing he remembered he had gone to the pub for a few drinks after he had been let go from his job for being late or drunk for too many shifts, and he hadn’t driven since his license had been revoked two years prior, so he knew he hadn’t gotten here on his own. He searched around him for his phone so he could try to piece things together knocking over an empty bourbon bottle in the process. He became nervous when he didn’t see it, crawling around on all fours back and forth from one end of the deck to the other picking through the rubbish he had spread then passed out in the night before. He was on the verge of giving up when the glare of the sun bounced off something in the sand nearby, his phone sat half submerged about a foot away on the other side of the deck.

Climbing to his feet he felt the pain sweep through his body, feeling as if he had laid down in front of a tank and survived as the familiar feeling of a hangover began to sweep over him. Every muscle in his body cried out in agony as bent down to pick up his phone. The world around him spun momentarily as he stood back up, his head feeling as if it would explode at any second. He fought to keep the contents of his stomach down to no avail, and after a few minutes being sick hiding behind a wall he checked his phone.

“Holy shit” he exclaimed after reading the date on his phone, two days had passed since he had been fired. “What did you get yourself into this time asshole?”

He slowly began making his way down to the beach as he searched for any explanation to the events of the past couple days. His phone gave him very little to work with. A few random messages from ex-coworkers wishing him well, a few random numbers he didn’t recognize in his call history that didn’t answer when he tried them, as well as multiple missed calls and a voicemail from his mother the day before telling him to call her when he got this and to not do anything stupid, a response to a late night call he had made to her that he didn't remember. The only thing that it helped in any way with was figuring out where he was, North Myrtle Beach, further than he had thought by nearly a hundred miles. It had been a while since he had gotten this out of control.

The beaches weren’t too crowded, and after lighting a cigarette Lucas found a nice place to collapse in the sand to think about his next steps. He dug through his pockets in hope of discovering any other clues to what had happened over the past couple days. Aside from his keys he uncovered two empty coke bags, a rolled up dollar bill, a fast food receipt, and a cellophane with a few bars of Xanax left in it. He knew he had screwed up worse than normal as he struggled to recall what he had done over the past couple days, never getting more than scattered fragments of memories that were too broken up to make any sense of. He stared out at the horizon as he wondered what he should do. He saw a ship sailing on the horizon and wished that he could swim out to it, climb aboard, and sail off to a new life free of all his vices. Falling to the mercy of his habits had grown old, and he needed a change.

He thought about who he could call to help him get home, or if he even really wanted to go. He really had nothing to go home to, no job or responsibilities, his mother had moved away not long after his father had passed, and his substance usage had driven anyone that truly mattered to him away some time ago. His possessions were of no real value and could be easily replaced. He remembered when it used to be fun, go out with some friends, have a few drinks and party a bit, but it had grown into a routine for him. Faces constantly changing as he moved from job to job, lasting as long as this anchor he carried with him allowed. Never really growing close with anyone, merely making casual acquaintances to use with until it became inconvenient for either party. This had been fine with him at first, he didn’t really need anyone he thought, however the loneliness and depression had begun burrowing into him after a couple years of living like this. Slowly at first but growing over time until it was a constant drum in the back of his head that he spent his time trying to ignore.

He had thought of quitting, even tried a couple of times, only to end up back using a few weeks later. Recently his mind ended up in dark places where he knew with certainty, he would never win this battle and should just give up. He did his best not to dwell in these dark places but found himself there more often than he would like. He would do all he could to distract himself from these thoughts, surrounding himself with strangers to try to convince himself he was just trying to be social. Partying into the late hours, to keep his mind occupied and his thoughts on the sideline. Each night however as he left whatever bar he may have ended up in alone, he found himself making his way back to that dark place. He felt ashamed of the man he had grown into, wanting nothing more than to change but not knowing how.

He sat for hours thinking to himself and watching the waves crash on the beach. He thought about calling his mother to let her know what was going on but decided against it when he realized that he really didn’t know what was going on, instead sending her a text to let her know he was alive and would call her sometime soon. This hopefully would hold her over until he knew what to tell her, it broke his heart to disappoint her and that’s all he felt he had done for her in years. He hadn’t been the best of sons in a long time, disappearing on a regular basis, only calling when he needed something or messed up, and showing up to holidays trashed making a scene if he showed up at all. Despite all this she still loved him, and he knew that she always would. This only made him feel more ashamed of himself.

People came and went as the day went by, he paid them little attention, keeping his focus on the boats out at sea while lost in thought. He thought about all the dreams he never even tried to accomplish because he had wasted his time with drugs and alcohol. The plans he had for himself when he was young that were never executed because he chose this self-destructive path instead. He wondered if it was too late to start over now that he was pushing his forties or if he had the strength and will to do so. Regardless he knew he had spent too many years doing the wrong thing, it was high time he did something right. He knew it was never too late for that.

As the sun began to set he came to the decision that he was done with this life, he didn’t know what he was going to do but he knew he wasn’t going home. It wasn’t going to be easy, he knew this, but nothing that is worth doing ever really is he was once told. He thought he may see if his mother would let him come stay with her for a few weeks while he got his head on straight and figured out what he was going to do. He climbed to his feet and made his way to a nearby trashcan disposing of the Xanax and empty coke bags from his pocket. He took his shirt off as he made his way near the water’s edge, then after wrapping his belongings in his shirt and leaving it on the beach he made his way into the water looking as the ships in the distance began to light up for the night. He dove into an oncoming wave determined, and began to swim his way to that new life or die trying.