Fall to Pieces

Raise My Glass

This is how I like it, music loud, crowded areas where I'm invisible, and all the free liquor I can get. I'm sure, by now, I'm piss drunk. I can't feel emotions. This feeling is one that I welcome repeatedly. Anything to take my mind of of the pain that eats me alive everyday. Kyle. I need to find my boyfriend, I want him to dance with me. Dancedancedance. That's all I want to do. Swing my hips the way he likes it.

"Kyle! Where are you?" I mumble to myself, and take another sip from my Corona. "Kyle! Kyle baby!"

"He's upstairs, Anastasia." Some person I don't know tells me.

"Thanks," I slur, and wearily walk up the stairs. Why is there so much? Was there ever so much stairs at his house?

"Kyle!" I shout, my ears burning from the assault. Come on, where is he? I poke open various doors until I come face to face with Kyle. In bed. With another girl. Wait. Have I over passed my drunken boundaries that I'm seeing things? This has to be the only explanation, right?

"Kyle..."

He makes a face. "Ana, I can explain."

"Go on."

"...Um, well..."

"I trusted you, Kyle. I trusted you! I don't trust a lot of people but I let you in. And this is how you pay me back? How could you!"

"You weren't giving me what I wanted, Anastasia! I'm sorry! If you weren't going to give it to me, I had to find someone else who would!"

It takes me a moment to understand what he's saying, but when it finally does dawn on me, I want to drown. I nod, blinking away tears. "I-I hate you. Goodbye, Kyle. Remember what goes around comes around."

I saunter downstairs, and go to the drinks table. Alcohol. The night is young, and I don't want to think. I must lift my glass for more, and drink. I need to block out the pain that I feel every second I breathe. I need to block out my past. I need to block out Kyle. So I drink.

***

Its too loud, yet still, its entirely quiet. My head, oh my poor head, has a hammer floating around in it. I don't even know where I am. Slowly blinking my eyes open, I notice the light blue curtains in my room. Wait wait wait. My room. I sit up, my head throbbing as I do so, and look around. Holy smokes, this is my room. Which means, I'm at my house. Unless I'm dead. Did I die last night, from alcohol poisoning? Probably not.

The door swings open, and Nelly, my maid walks in. She gives me a sympathetic smile, and hands me a cup of coffee. "You're father wants to see you in his study."

I sigh. "That bad, huh?"

"Its looks like you and your brother have hit the deep end."

"What happened last night? How did I get home?"

"Frankie dropped you home. Its was like three in the morning, and she demanded to speak to your father. It was a screaming match from then. She left, crying. You had already passed out. Apparently, you tried to drive home. Drunk."

I bury my face in my hands, last nights memories catching up to me. After I saw Kyle and that girl, I kept on drinking. And drinking. And drinking. I'm twenty three years old, with no job, and a major alcohol problem called addiction. I wasn't even in love with Kyle. I just loved that he always had a drink in his fridge. I used him, like he wanted to use me. "I'm a mess."

"Anastasia, only you can clean yourself up." Nelly tells me. "Come on, your dads waiting."

Nelly starts to walk away, but I stop her. She turns, looking at me patiently. "Thanks," I whisper. "You were the closest mother figure I had. So, thank you, even if you think I'm a spoiled brat."

"Sweetheart," she says, hugging me. "Nobody thinks your spoiled. We just think that you have a lot of pain tormenting you and you don't know what to do with it."

I watch her walk away, and hastily swipe away a tear. This is my life. I'm like a box of puzzle pieces, waiting for someone to put me together again.