Tension
The tension was pressing on his chest like a weight. It was almost a physical thing, the sickening ache that flooded his system and worked its way into his heart.
It was as if it had a life of its own, and it used all of its power to squeeze, to wrap around his heart and tighten until each beat was painful, pushed through strangulation.
Hush, hush, keep your mouth shut.
The sensation rose up until he could feel it in his head, like the start of a migraine, pulling just around the corners and making his vision blurry. He shook his head, rubbing the ache in his temples and willing it away, willing all of it away.
He rose to his feet. It felt like the room was swaying, giving into the pressure of thoughts that felt so strong they could manifest right before his eyes, manifest into the shifting of the hard, concrete floor beneath him.
In the darkness of the room, he pushed open the cupboard with shaking hands. But when his hands found the cool glass of the bottle, they steadied.
He would try again. Maybe tonight would be the night when the bottle finally chased everything away.
But he doubted it.