PREFACE
The bottle stood proudly on the mantle piece – enticing the weak man who sat slumped in his favorite armchair. His right hand shook while grasping the square crystal glass that cradled the liquid poisoning his brain. His balled up fist and clenched expression formed the mask of aggression which vibrated through his body, causing his foot to tap involuntarily against the cherry wood floor.
The fire crackled through the silence, a glow of orange and red illuminating his dead eyes. The ocean blue irises, that caught a glint of silver moonlight through a crack in the curtain, darkened, allowing the pupils to swell unnaturally. It was a result of the toxic substance that flooded his veins, saturating his body with destructive thoughts that lead to vicious outbreaks.
I quietly watched from afar as his hand swept through his perfectly combed honey-blond hair, twisting the locks so they sat in an untidy mess on top his head. His thick fingers roughly brushed the dark circles which hinted at his exhausted state. A deep sigh came from under his breath followed by a swig of the dark amber piss that flowed through his intoxicated lips.
I stare at his uncaring pallid face through the reflection in the mirror that hung low over the mantle. He was colorless, not a hint of health within his dull skin. His bulbous nose was scorched red, his cheeks the chubbiest I had ever seen.
His body shook drunkenly as he slowly raised himself from his seat. I instantly froze – paralyzed by his movements. I stay crouched in my hiding place, praying he won't find me. I know it's only a matter of time before he'll come looking for me. The upstairs bedroom being the first place on his list. And the thought has my stomach twisting and turning sickly.
What'll he do when he can't find me?
