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BANNER PHOTO NOT OURS. RIGHTS TO ORIGINAL PHOTOGRAPHER...
Warning - Alcohol, hallucinations, and attempted suicide
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Irene was late out at night, it was hard. Walking past all the shops and the bars. It was so tempting to just give in and have a shot of alcohol, she'd tried everything she could to stay sober. For the most part, it worked, but there were those moments when she thought it was better just to give in.
The young woman took a deep breath and looked away, her gaze shifting to the street. Cars whooshed by her in the blink of an eye, every once in a while, one would turn or stop when the light turned red and green. She watched them, carefully, studying the way the drivers focused on the road or talking to their passengers. Some of them were probably heading home or to work, she wondered if any of them would be attending the bars she had just past.
There it was, that reminder. She wanted a drink so badly, she wanted to drink until she threw up and then drink some more. Just a tiny sip would stop this gut-wrenching pain in her stomach and mind, the pounding in her head when she thought about even the tiniest bit of liquor.
Irene made her way into the park, the cool breeze of the night pushing her deeper into the place she called her sanctuary. She made her way to her favorite spot under a tree and sat down on the soft green grass. It was wet from an earlier shower and made her skirt damp. She reached into the pocket of her hoodie, pulled out her phone, turned it on, and found the call app. Her fingers already knew what to do.
The quiet sound of a voice began to play, a familiar and once-welcoming message to Irene,
"Where's Irene?"
"This is Irene." The audio stopped and she sighed, scrolled through her voicemails some more, and clicked on another message.
"Hey Irene, just wanted to say I love you. Can't wait to see you soon!"
Irene smiled, the message was simple but it gave her a sense of hope. The familiar sound of his energetic and favorable tone sent a jolt of bittersweet happiness through her. She stared at the screen for a moment before her eyes darted to the date, the subtle reminder of the situation.
She sighed and turned off her phone, shoved it into her pocket, and lay down on the grass. She groaned in discomfort when the wet Earth soaked her through her hoodie and she sat up immediately. Looking around at the dark park for a moment, Irene stood and began making her way out of the familiar place.
Maybe she did need help, maybe it was time to talk to her family or maybe even her college counselor. But all she knew right now was that she needed an escape, this wasn't the right way but she didn't know what else to do. She opened the bottle and downed it. The liquid burned her throat but she didn't stop, she needed it, she wanted it. Everything would be fine after she drank it. And it was.
Irene walked down the street, stumbling a bit and humming quietly, the sound vibrating through her throat. She stopped and looked around, it was so nice not being in control. The wind blew against her as cars passed her, everything felt fuzzy and warm. Like she was ready to die if she was chosen to.
She took a step forward, her feet feeling heavier than they ever had before as she pushed herself off the sidewalk. The wind rushed past her in bursts, it felt like time was stopping for everyone and everything else but her. It was freedom at least.
That was until she blacked out, when she opened her eyes her head was dizzy and everything hurt. Her ears were ringing, and a muffled voice called out to her. As Irene's vision adjusted she could see a familiar face looking down at her.
"Max?" She spoke with a husky, broken voice, her eyes widening slightly as she sat up. Max looked at her with wide, afraid eyes and checked over her.
"Ma'am, are you alright? Do you feel any pain anywhere?" He spoke, fast and shaky. Irene looked at him in both confusion and relief. She reached up to try and grab his hands but he gently pushed them back into her lap.
"Max, what are you doing here? Why," She looked down at her hands and then back at him, tilting her head,
"Why do you sound different?" Irene looked at him for a moment. Her eyes finally adjusted to the light and she realized it wasn't Max. It was a man, with shaggy dark hair, baggy clothes, and chocolate skin. His dark green eyes were filled with horror as he looked down at her on the ground,
"Your head..." He reached up and gently held it, Irene followed his lead, and when she drew her hand back her breath hitched as she saw blood. She had no clue what happened, why she was bleeding, and why this person was kneeling down next to her on the floor.
"I've already called nine-one-one. They'll be here soon... why did you do it?" He asked her, his voice gentle and laced with concern. Irene looked up at him, bewildered.
"Do what...?"
"Why did you try to kill yourself?"
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Thank you. - I
