= Drunk =

"Rum is my sweet sister, whisky is my cool brother and vodka is my best friend," I walked into the house with a couple bottles of liquor, chocolate chips, a bucket of ice cream and some actual food-food – pasta, veg, fish. I might be an alcoholic and I might have a failing relationship, but I was a great cook.

I made spaghetti with meat sauce and fish, my favorite dish. I did a couple shots of vodka and I felt the warmth in my stomach. I felt the blood pumping into my head, and I had to lay my head down on the kitchen table.

It's a voice I heard before, "She doesn't want a baby. Maybe we can let her stay."

I heard a girl's voice, "She is clearly troubled. Who would invite a middle age lady she just met to live with her?" There was a third voice in the conversation, "Moira, she is a nice person, but if she stays, she may get killed." I opened my eyes and I couldn't see anyone.

I felt heat with my right hand. I opened my eyes slightly. "I need someone to feel my pain," Someone said. It's an open fire and the feeling was so familiar, so real. A flashback came to my mind. I got burned while I was cooking in my childhood home. I had never seen my mom being sober.

This must be a dream.

Someone grabbed my hand, "Be careful. Don't play with fire. Come here you naughty girl." She had red hair, soft lips and green eyes. She slowly drew a line along the burn scar in my left forearm. She turned off the stove. Suddenly, I felt like I was awake and I could see things clearly.

"Steph?" I asked, "Is that you?"

But she wasn't Steph. She stopped and she looked at me for a second.

Then she led me through a door.

Someone with black hair was laying on the floor. There was blood everywhere.

I got home from school. I was twelve. There was blood on the carpet. I saw someone laying on the floor. Her messy black wavy hair was just like mine. It was like looking into a mirror that age people by twenty years. I walked next to her and shook her. She was my mother. How could she abandon me? There were empty pill jars next to her. Her blood was pumping out from her cut wrist. I ran out of the apartment. I banged on my neighbors' doors, but no one would answer my call for help.

My tears ran down my cheek. I know this is a dream. If I want to wake up, all I need to do is to find my bed. Where is my bed? I walked up the stairs and fell down. It felt good to close my eyes. And... I fell asleep on the staircases.

= To Be Continued =

Sorry if this chapter confuses you... I am confused too...