The Prophecy

Chapter Twelve

I didn't contact Brent although he would surely be infuriated when he finds out that I did exactly the opposite of what he wants me to do, which is go to him first thing I get a memory. However, I didn't have the patience to deal with him right now, although I can barely deal with him at all if I'm being honest, but for now? I couldn't. I couldn't deal with the face he'll make when he finds out what happens. At least not now.

I drank every ounce of beer I had until I was down to the very last drop, feeling only slightly tipsy. I pace in my room, debating whether it was worth going back out there or not just to get more beer.

At the end I decided to get more beer.

I walk out of my room, ignoring them once again as they do the same with me. I instantly notice that they have shut the speakers off since there was no more music blasting from the room. I went into the kitchen and grab two more cases of beer since I was planning on drinking myself into oblivion and close the fridge behind me.

As soon as I left the kitchen I regretted coming out and getting more beer. It all just felt so awkward. They're all tense when I walk into the room, probably waiting to see me explode again but I'm not about to do that again in front of them. I felt terrible about it already I couldn't deal with doing it again.

I go into my room, ignoring them as they ignore me, and set the two cases of beer down. We always kept the fridge fully loaded with beer and this was the last of it. But we always kept a few more in the cabinets. So I went back out of my room once again ignoring their stares and into the kitchen grabbing two wine bottles and another case of beer.

I walk out of the kitchen, noticing the fact that they keep staring at the amount of alcohol in my hands added with the ones in my room. If it was hard to tell before, this screams out exactly what I was doing. I'm trying to get drunk as any teenager would do at my age.

I shut the door with my foot and set the single case of beer down by my bed and the two wine bottles on the night stand then lock the door just in case any of them decide to burst in here which I know will happen sooner or later.

I grab a fresh beer and pace the room. If I'm getting memories when I'm awake now, whose to say what will happen next? Will I get a memory when someone says a word that triggers a memory like Brent said? What if I do something or touch something again to activate another memory? I could react differently now so what if I get a memory in front of them and I say something or do something. Or worse... What if I hurt one of them?

I take a sip out of the beer ignoring the taste of the foam. I couldn't ever possibly yell like that again at any of them and to think I might be capable of hurting them was... I throw the bottle at the wall, the left over beer spilling all over the wall and floor. I was angry at myself for a whole lot of reasons but only one thing was clear to me at this moment.

Trevor was painstakingly right.

I couldn't just run away from this thing anymore. I couldn't confine myself behind these endless closed doors and barricade myself in. I had to try harder and fight harder.

I shouldn't have quit in the first place I was just being a coward. That's all I am. I kick the empty beer bottles one by one against the wall, breaking them into millions of pieces, in udder rage.

I sit down on my bed, trying to calm my breathing. I grab one of the wine bottles and down it in no time then set it beside me and grab the other, struggling with the cork. I just wanted to get drunk was all.

"I never had champagne before! This tastes wonderful!" A males voice yells cheerfully. A giggle echoes, bouncing around in my head.

I throw the wine bottle at the door, the contents exploding against the white door reminding me of blood. I began throwing more bottles, empty or full... it didn't matter.