Prologue
Beatrice
1, 2, 3
1, 2, 3
Drink.
Tris lifts the bottle of tequila to her mouth and swallowed another mouth full of the hard liquor. She knows she won't remember this in the morning, she never does. Why did she drink, you may ask? Tris drank away her problems, although she didn't have many. She wasn't a victim of a crime against humanity such as: abuse of any kind, bullying, divorce, trauma, etc. She didn't have post-traumatic stress, she wasn't schizophrenic or have any mental diseases. Or so she told herself. The rest of the world could tell Tris had depression, social and severe anxiety. Plus on top of that she was anorexic from the depression. She could barely pull herself out of bed, and woke up every day with a hangover, party or not.
Tris hadn't always been this way. Once upon a time Tris had been a crazy, fun, loving and compassionate person but on her eighteenth birthday, she turned on the world. She was out shopping with her parents when a robber took control of the small shop. He told everyone to put their phones on the table but her parents refused. They tried to call 911 twice. The first time they were cut off and second time they succeeded only to be shot down, right in front of their eighteen year old daughter, who was now 20. Tris had never been the same. Unlike everyone else she didn't go to university the next year. Instead she stayed home and drank herself sick.
Tris had a brother who worked somewhere off the coast of sunny California. At one point she planned to live there get a job as an actor working for Dauntless Stunts but she swallowed those dreams away with a bottle of whiskey. Instead she lived in the Bronx of New York and worked at a liquor store so she would get a discount on all the alcohol she needed. Her life was a mess, she dressed like a slut, went out to clubs and parties every night, drank herself sick and was afraid of having friends. She was scared they'd leave her. She was scared she would lose them. So she stuck[JM1] to the whole lone wolf thing.
More than anything, Tris wanted to get her life on track, but didn't know how. She told herself that she didn't need alcohol, but she was addicted. It was her drug, her light to her dark world, her escape, her anti-depressant, her happiness, even if it only lasted a few minutes, a few hours sometimes. She'd try to not drink, she tried to stop, and she tried to get her life under control. She tried going to a therapist, she thought she had tried everything but what waited for her in the future was a life the type of life she always wanted to have. The problem was she might not make it that long. Tris' life was a vicious circle that was slowly and carefully killing her. If she kept up with this circle she would be dead in a matter of two years at most.
Even when her life was falling apart Tris still dreamt of a good life. Dying beside her husband, watching her children grow old, watching over the grandchildren. She had given up on being an actor or stunt woman, now she dreamt of going to rehab, getting help. Tris dreamt of singing her worries away, like many other artist. She wanted to be able to put all of her emotion into a song and let the words flow on to a page. She tried to do it sober but only lasted a couple of hours before she gave up.
Tris began to sing. The words spilled from her mouth like water, her voice almost hypnotic.
"Party girls don't get hurt
Can't feel anything, when will I learn
I push it down, push it down
I'm the one "for a good time call"
Phone's blowin' up, they're ringin' my doorbell
I feel the love, feel the love
1 2 3, 1 2 3, drink
1 2 3, 1 2 3, drink
1 2 3, 1 2 3, drink
Throw 'em back, till I lose count
I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier
I'm gonna live like tomorrow doesn't exist, like it doesn't exist
I'm gonna fly like a bird through the night, feel my tears as they dry
I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier
And I'm holding on for dear life
Won't look down won't open my eyes
Keep my glass full until morning light
Cause I'm just holding on for tonight
Help me, I'm holding on for dear life
Won't look down, won't open my eyes
Keep my glass full until morning light
Cause I'm just holding on for tonight
On for tonight
Sun is up, I'm a mess
Gotta get out now, gotta run from this
Here comes the shame, here comes the shame."
Tris cried, she cried for help, she cried for her parents, she cried for friends, she cried for love, she cried for someone, anyone. She fought a war against herself and the side that wanted her to die was winning. She wanted to be happy she wanted to win but no one was there to teach her. She wanted to succeed, to in against the odds, to live to thrive. To be married, to have kids, to die old with her husband, who loved her more than anything. Would she make it? That was a question not even Tris herself could answer.
Tris let out one more exasperated cry for help and lifted the bottle to her lips again as she fell into the darkness were she could be anything.