Another Drink
Session 2
Sighing heavily I stood up and looked down at the box that sat before me. It held things from 'The good ol' days'...who would've thought things had got to this point. Leaning down and reaching into a box I pulled out a fading, worn pink book. Flipping through the pages I saw the all to familiar handwriting.
"What had I been thinking when all that took place?" Shaking my head I walked over to the chair that sat near by and sat down heavily. Opening the book again, I came across a folded piece of paper.
~ ~ ~
August
Life's a mess. Parents don't care anymore, neither do friends...Wait! What the hell am I talking about?! My only friend left me... my only love turned his back from me... why should I care anymore? Well I've found a job...hoping to buy a motorcycle and ride out of this damn city. Who knows...I might just make it out there in the world better then I did in my own home....
~ ~ ~
For all the years I've had this book.. I had never found this. Glancing up I caught sight of a picture I had sitting on my dresser. The frame was made of redwood, deeply stained... it almost looked like dried blood in the right light, but now it just looked dark. The picture was taken in the summer after sophomore year, everyone from the gang of forth grade was there, and all of the faces except one was smiling and happy. The tall figure of a blonde stood off to the side, arms crossed, a slight glare on her face, a braid resting on her shoulder contrasting immensely against her black trench coat. She had stopped wearing pink, but took to black like it was her best friend.
Placing the piece of paper back into the book and tossing it on my bed, I got up and headed out of the room. I found myself in the kitchen searching threw a cabinet, pausing I found what I was looking for and placed it on the counter and went looking for a glass. Finding it I sat myself at the table, upon opening the bottle I remembered something.
"He had sat there, drinking at his kitchen table. Not caring about how it hurt those around him, how it hurt his love."
The line was from a book I had picked up a year ago, the authors' words had somehow found their way into my head. Staring down at the partially filled glass in my hand I frowned, standing I threw the glass as hard as I could against the opposite wall. The sound of shattering glass hit my ears like a sledgehammer, my eyes widened.
"What the fuck is wrong with me?! That person left, why should I care! Why should I care...?" I slumped to the floor, tears running down my cheeks.
"What have I done....?"
Session 2
Sighing heavily I stood up and looked down at the box that sat before me. It held things from 'The good ol' days'...who would've thought things had got to this point. Leaning down and reaching into a box I pulled out a fading, worn pink book. Flipping through the pages I saw the all to familiar handwriting.
"What had I been thinking when all that took place?" Shaking my head I walked over to the chair that sat near by and sat down heavily. Opening the book again, I came across a folded piece of paper.
~ ~ ~
August
Life's a mess. Parents don't care anymore, neither do friends...Wait! What the hell am I talking about?! My only friend left me... my only love turned his back from me... why should I care anymore? Well I've found a job...hoping to buy a motorcycle and ride out of this damn city. Who knows...I might just make it out there in the world better then I did in my own home....
~ ~ ~
For all the years I've had this book.. I had never found this. Glancing up I caught sight of a picture I had sitting on my dresser. The frame was made of redwood, deeply stained... it almost looked like dried blood in the right light, but now it just looked dark. The picture was taken in the summer after sophomore year, everyone from the gang of forth grade was there, and all of the faces except one was smiling and happy. The tall figure of a blonde stood off to the side, arms crossed, a slight glare on her face, a braid resting on her shoulder contrasting immensely against her black trench coat. She had stopped wearing pink, but took to black like it was her best friend.
Placing the piece of paper back into the book and tossing it on my bed, I got up and headed out of the room. I found myself in the kitchen searching threw a cabinet, pausing I found what I was looking for and placed it on the counter and went looking for a glass. Finding it I sat myself at the table, upon opening the bottle I remembered something.
"He had sat there, drinking at his kitchen table. Not caring about how it hurt those around him, how it hurt his love."
The line was from a book I had picked up a year ago, the authors' words had somehow found their way into my head. Staring down at the partially filled glass in my hand I frowned, standing I threw the glass as hard as I could against the opposite wall. The sound of shattering glass hit my ears like a sledgehammer, my eyes widened.
"What the fuck is wrong with me?! That person left, why should I care! Why should I care...?" I slumped to the floor, tears running down my cheeks.
"What have I done....?"