Forever Young

Losing Control.

The following morning, Lucy forced herself to put on a tracksuit and head to the station. Her eyes were heavy and bloodshot, evidence of the sleepless night she had endured. As she entered the bustling changing room, her usual cheerful group of friends turned to her with scowls etched across their faces.

Angela, always the most vocal, stormed over, followed closely by Nyla. Their words came at her like a barrage of bullets, blaming her for Tim's sudden absence- he had booked a week off work. They accused her of driving him away with her inability to understand his dedication to the job- they hurled their anger towards her. "Why would you break up with him over a promotion? You're so selfish! You should be happy for him!" Nyla spoke - her tone laced with venom. Lucy's heart ached as she tried to explain that it was Tim who ended things, but they wouldn't let her get a word in edgewise. The hurtful words pierced through her already fragile defences, leaving her emotionally raw and speechless. Their anger and betrayal only served to deepen her sorrow, making her feel even more isolated - *they didn't even hear me out..* she thought to herself as she tried to hold her tears at bay.

To add insult to injury, Lucy discovered that Angela would be her training officer due to tim's promotion. Throughout the gruelling shift, Angela's harsh criticism and condescending remarks relentlessly bombarded Lucy like a torrential downpour. Every mistake, no matter how minor, was met with a scowl and a snide comment. Lucy's usually quick wit and sharp instincts seemed dulled, replaced by a heavy fog of despair. Her every movement felt sluggish and mechanical, as if she were merely going through the motions. When the day finally ended and they returned to the station, Lucy was physically and emotionally drained. She walked into the changing room, her mind racing with a million thoughts and yet unable to form a single coherent sentence. She yearned for someone to talk to, someone to understand the turmoil she was experiencing. But with her friends turned against her and Tim nowhere in sight, she felt utterly alone in her pain. As the other officers filed out of the changing rooms, exchanging laughter, Lucy remained silent, swallowed by the suffocating thoughts in her head. She wondered how she would ever find the strength to move forward in this new reality where her personal and professional lives seemed to be unraveling at the seams.

In the cramped confines of a toilet cubicle, Lucy hastily changed into her tracksuit, carefully concealing the jagged red lines that marred her arms. She couldn't bear the thought of anyone seeing her in this vulnerable state. Her heart heavy and her mind clouded, she drove to the nearest liquor store. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as she moved through the aisles, filling her basket with various bottles of vodka and mixers. The cheerful chatter of customers and clerks grated against her frayed nerves, but she kept her head down, determined to avoid unwanted attention. As she approached the counter, her hands shook, threatening to betray her fragile façade. But she managed a weak smile for the cashier, who returned it without a second glance. Back in the solitude of her car, Lucy allowed herself a moment to break. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks as she contemplated the alcohol before her. *This is how I'm going to numb the pain,* she thought, her voice barely a whisper in the quiet confines of the vehicle. She knew it was a temporary solution, but she didn't care. Right now, all she wanted was to escape the crushing weight of reality, even if it was just for a little while. She chugged a bottle before beginning the drive back home, her car swerving left and right before finally arriving at the destination.

Lucy stumbled into her pristine apartment, the alcohol already taking effect as she kicked off her shoes and dropped her bag by the door. The events of the day swirled around her like a dark, oppressive cloud, threatening to suffocate her. She made her way to the kitchen, the bottles of vodka and mixers clinking together in her arms. With trembling hands, she poured herself a generous serving and downed it in one go, wincing at the burning sensation that spread through her chest. The numbness began to creep in, a welcome relief from the torrent of emotions that had consumed her since Tim's rejection. She continued to drink, her movements becoming more erratic as the night wore on. Glasses shattered, liquid splashing across the countertops, but she hardly noticed. All she cared about was the sweet oblivion that awaited her at the bottom of each glass. As the hours passed, Lucy's sobs turned to hiccups, her words slurring into incomprehensible mumbles. She staggered through the rooms, leaving a trail of discarded bottles and empty cans in her wake. Finally, she collapsed onto the couch, the world spinning violently around her. *This isn't me,* she thought dimly before surrendering to the darkness. But the respite was fleeting, for the moment she closed her eyes, the happy memories of her and Tim came rushing back, taunting her in vivid detail. She tossed and turned, desperate to escape the nightmarish montage that played out behind her eyelids. By morning, Lucy was a wreck—her clothes stained, her home in disarray, and her heart aching more than ever.