My hands are shaking but I can still pour

The mistake that I'm making, then I pour one more

The blonde bellied up to the bar at eight that night and didn't leave until the bartender, whose name was Jeremy, asked her leave at two in the morning after last call. She was so drunk she couldn't see in front of her more than a couple inches. She wasn't watching closely and within minutes of walking out she was face-down in the bushes on the side of the walkway. She grunted softly at the pain she barely felt, her blonde hair mussed and in her face now, escaping her ponytail. "Shit…" She grumbled low, passing a hand over her face.

The next thing she remembered with any clarity was face-planting in cement and scraping her cheek up but good, biting through tongue and gushing blood everywhere before passing out until the following day. Blue green hues blinked rapidly in the fluorescents; a momentary confusion took her as she stared up a ceiling that didn't belong to her. "Oh yeah…" She mumbled, muffled by cotton gauze and the eight stitches they'd put in her tongue last night. She tasted blood, old blood, iron and salt thick on her injured swollen muscle; the blonde swallowed and closed her eyes. She remembered it all now…

There came a knock at the door and just as the headache was getting worse, too. She didn't open her eyes. Shit, this headache just wouldn't let up. And why was she so thirsty all of a sudden?

"Excuse me, Miss Railly? I'll be your nurse for today. I just wanted to introduce myself; I'm Max."

Cassie opened her eyes again. The whites were bloodshot and the blue-greens were dull in color, lifeless as the alcohol coursed through her and the blood in her fought to replenish itself. "Yeah? Well good for you, honey. You can call me Pippi Long Stocking for all I care…"

"Well, okay then." Max ducked her head down and smiled a small rueful smile. "The doctors mandated in-patient rehab for your alcohol abuse. It seems you have a history…"

"Damn right I have a history!" Cassie raised her voice, suddenly irate. That's what happened when you were an alcoholic, mood swings for days. "If heartache won't kill you, you find something that will!"

It runs in my family, it runs in my blood

And just like my daddy, I can't get enough

Three hours later she sat in a comfortable chair in a small room off the beaten path. Her tongue was still sore and engorged by the trauma, the gauze removed now that she was up and alert. She'd had about six glasses of water and a cup of ice chips and it still wasn't enough to quench her thirst and moisten her mouth. Overall, Cassie Railly was uncomfortable.

"Hello, hello!" The door almost crashed open, the knob glancing off the wall behind the door and popping back to him with inertia. "Woo! Doctor James Cole…it's nice to meet you." He offered his hand and let it stay there for a while.

Cassie didn't take it. "It's a pleasure, I'm sure…" The bitter taste of the words wasn't lost on the doctor whose hand abruptly dropped to his side and the other hand tossed her file on his desk.

His eyebrows furrowed as he took a seat behind his desk and flipped open the file. "Cassandra Lynn Railly. Age thirty-two. Prolonged history of alcohol abuse and hospitalizations due to that."

"Yeah, so!?"

"So…" Doctor Cole looked up and over his glasses at her, across the desktop. "Prolonged alcohol abuse and a history of it causing injury and hospital visits, it eventually leads to death."

Cassie balked, blinking rapidly three times. "How do you know that's not what I want…" It wasn't a question so much as a statement.

"It's pretty obvious that's what you want, Cassie." Doctor Cole commented softly. "The question I have for you is, why?"

She thought about that. How she'd been kidnapped, raped, and worse; how she'd been through all those horrible things and still her boyfriend couldn't be there for her. He couldn't be what she needed and he'd left her all alone with those horrible memories. It only took a second to remember because it was on her mind every day, every moment. "I…I told the nurse earlier…"

"Do you want help, Cassie?"

She looked up, met the doctor's eyes with her own, her faraway gaze focusing solely on him. He had the brightest eyes, so full of life… "Yes. I do. I don't want to hurt anymore."

"You have a lot of alcohol abuse left in you but not many recoveries. If you're serious…then I'm here for you."

"I…I need to. I want to be better. Please…"

Every last drop I say is the last

Then I drive to the store and fill up my glass

/

Dear sobriety, please come back to me

I left you high and dry

But I'm doomed for good this time

I swore I wouldn't be

I'm making a fool of me

I need you desperately

Dear Sobriety