A Throne of Blood

Drowning

ANTONY

I sought comfort in the many bottles that filled the office. I emptied them into my glass hoping to fill the void in my soul. I had no idea what day it was nor the hour. Time was a concept that was unknown to me. It meant nothing and had no impact on my life. My once structured and scheduled days were behind me. Teatime and supper blurred together, and my days and nights became one in the same.

I poured myself another glass of whiskey, shot it down my throat, and felt its warmth temporarily surge through my body. Then it faded. I felt, and then I didn't. It was an endless cycle of warmth and the void. I barely noticed when people entered the room or left it. My mother was in her own cocoon of despair and grief. Both of us waiting for this nightmare to be over. To wake up and see him once again. Only the nightmare never ended, and it wasn't going to. Had we seen this coming? Of course. He was ill. However, the doctor estimated a year or less before he would pass. But his timer had run out of sand and once again, medical professionals were proven wrong.

I sat with my back against the door and slammed the glass down on the marble floors. Not satisfied with that, I threw it against the bookcase across the room from me. The glass crystalized and shimmered in the light as it fell to pieces. The sound pierced my ears and vibrated throughout my body.

The doorknob began to rattle as someone attempted to push it open. My body weight wouldn't allow it. I was like a corpse. Stiff and lifeless. Or so I felt.

I allowed the force of the door to move me. The alcohol took control of most my body as I slumped over with the swing of the door. I felt the marble against my bare skin. It was cooling and comforting.

Whomever had opened the door was now at my side, stroking my hair, and patting my face with a damp wash cloth. I allowed the stranger to do so. The cool water dribbled down my face. The stranger then proceeded to wipe my eyes and my neck. It was the most I had felt since the whiskey. I closed my eyes and relaxed my body on the ground. Allowing my torso and chest to make contact with the bitterly comforting floor.

My eyes fluttered open in what seemed like a second later. I glanced at the window and realized the sun was out. Its rays glazed upon my face and illuminated the room exposing the incessant turmoil that I had created throughout the study.

I also had noticed I was now on the couch, covered with a quilt, and a glass of water on the table beside me. I attempted to lift myself up to my feet but instantly became dizzy and stumbled backwards onto the couch.

"Having trouble?" A familiar voice echoed from the desk behind me.

I hung my head off the couch to glance at her.

"How did you move me?" was the first thing that shot out of my mouth.

"I didn't, Louis and my father did" Felicite sighed as she came to my side and nudged the glass of water towards me.

I gulped it down in hopes to satisfy her. However, it was I who was pleasantly satisfied by the cooling and refreshing tingle that trickled down my throat. She smiled at me with approval and placed the glass on back on the table behind her. I surveyed her demeanor as she began to clean up the mess that I had made over the past few weeks. Almost instantly, heat flushed through my body and my throat began to entangle itself into a knot. A knot so big, it was almost as if it was meant to hold an anchor to a large ship. My chest rose and fell as I felt the cool air enter my lungs, only to be expelled as a snarling hot breath from my lips.

"Felicite please don't" I asked of her.

She raised an eyebrow at me and scoffed. "I am not going to allow you to wallow in your own filth Antony. It's been three weeks since I last came and cleaned this up for you."