Hey people! Long time no see. I got stuck in a "I think this sucks" story mode. This story is based off of the song "Blackout" by Senses Fail.
Let me know what you think. I'm not sure if I should continue this or not.
Like it/ Hate it? Review!
One month prior...
I stood still, watching her go.
It wasn't her choice to leave, but I just couldn't force her to stay.
It felt like half of me was ripping out, but it wasn't until she was out of sight that I let myself shake.
I shut the door to the apartment and fell against it. Sliding down to the floor, I sighed and took out a flask.
Taking a long drink, I let the warm liquor fill me. It helped to stop the shaking.
"Man, I've got to move on so I can find happiness."
I said it out loud, but it didn't help the pain I felt.
Present.
I woke up, my head was throbbing, my mouth was dry, and my vision slowly focused on the clock.
"Great. 7:30a.m." I turned over to greet the empty side of the bed. I had gotten so used to sleeping on one side, I just couldn't break the habit.
I absently reached for the bottle on my table, which was next to the clock. Taking a swig of it made me feel a little better.
Hair of the dog, as they say.
It was really the only thing that dulled the pain.
I had quickly discovered that my mind during sobriety, liked to remind me of everything we had done in that very bed.
I'd worry about whether she was over me, and found someone else. I would feel all of the pain again.
Being a genius has its disadvantages, after all.
So, I drown out my thoughts with alchohol.
Genius solution, right?
Of course, there is a very strong urge when I'm trashed.
The urge to call her. The urge to tell her that there's still hope for me, and us.
But that's the whiskey talking.
I had been on leave since that day she left.
I squandered away my savings since.
So many nights I drank alone in my apartment.
Throwing up was a common occurence. If it wasn't for the smell, I probably wouldn't bother to clean it up.
Last night was no exception. I think I was on my knees in front of the toilet for at least four hours.
These days, I don't really eat much, and so I don't have much other than stomach acid and alchohol to puke.
I stumbled into the kitchen and tried to make breakfast. I fixed a drink and poured a bowl of cereal.
I don't know why I chose to pour it out into a glass, chances are pretty good that bottle would be empty by lunch.
There were so many empty bottles all around the house, I was too lazy to throw them out.
Lunchtime.
This isn't fair.
I felt lightheaded, the room was spinning. Drunk, obviously.
How many drinks had I had today?
I'd lost count after six. She swam into my thoughts, it always happened eventually.
Nobody ever taught me how to let go.
I guess thats why I suck at it.
How will I get set free from sorrow?
I just don't see the solution.
Why did I make her leave?
Fuck.
I forgot.
The edges of my vision started to darken, and I welcomed it.
Blackout time!
I felt myself heaving as darkness claimed me.
Nighttime.
Ugh. I'll never get used to that taste in my mouth.
I cracked an eye open, and it focused on the puddle in front of me.
I knew I shouldn't have eaten breakfast.
My mouth slowly formed into a smile.
It's funny really, I like blacking out.
I don't like dreaming.
My dreams are full of regrets.
Blacking out helps that. I saw her this time though.
I guess I was building up a tolerance.
The mess on the floor will have to wait until morning, I've got drinking to do.
Later.
Man, what day is it?
My head was rolling around, I couldn't keep it still, or straight up.
A quiet ringing in my ear sounded, and it confused me.
What's that?
I looked around and realized I was on the phone.
When did I pick up the phone?
Who did I call?
After about thirty seconds, someone picked up.
"Shikamaru?" came out a strained female voice.
"Temari? Is that who I called?" I laughed for some reason.
"What do you want, Nara?" her voice sounded sad, it cracked at the end.
I felt bad, it was all my fault after all.
"I just wanted to say that I hope you find some peace in life"
I just blurted out the next words, "'Cause I thought I'd be fine"
"Are you slurring, Shikamaru"
"Am I? Listen, Tem, you wanna know something"
"What?" She sounded hurt.
"I'm struggling. With my life. I blackout so I can't dream, but I still see you." She was quiet, and so I continued.
"If I had a drink for every goddamn time I think, about your pale skin dressed in pink, at least I could sleep"
"And if I had a shot, for every goddamn time I thought, about your face and what I've lost, then at least I'd get some sleep"
I was proud I had thought of something so clever, with how drunk I was.
"How much have you had to drink"
"Umm..." I thought about it, but everything was hazy.
"I last remember being at six, but that was before one"
"What?! Have you been drinking all day"
"Uhh, yeah, I gotta let you go, I need to go throw up"
I dropped the phone as I aimed my head for the trash can.
Between my sounds of agony, I could hear her screaming on the other end.
"Shika? SHIKA!"
I suddenly felt worse than I had before. Was this what alchohol poisoning was like?
Blackout.