Lips, Lace, and Lies

Mary

Living as Mary Nicowell wasn't easy. The last time Mary had been happy while not on drugs was three years ago when she got to leave her family and start a new life.

After what happened to her during her childhood, Mary wanted nothing more to do with her family, or anyone in touch with them. She just wanted to create her own path and live an adventurous life. Traveling the world, making a shitload of money, and always having a bottle of wine in her grasp.

Mary was, at the moment, sitting in her therapist's office for a conversation that involved the fact that she'd shown up drunk to her first class. Of course, Mary couldn't help the fact she'd drank a bit before school, because that was just because of how she was raised. Her father always said, "If you can't figure out what to do, then drink away your worries, bitch." And then Mary wouldn't see him for a few days afterwards.

She'd always wonder why her mother never divorced her alcoholic father, but it was probably because they'd be absolutely broke if she did. Mary couldn't blame her mother for wanting to keep her family stabilized, but did it make sense to have a stabilized family run by an non-stabilized man who spent two hundred dollars a month on bourbon?

It didn't exactly matter now. All that mattered was the fact that Mary was free from her mom and dad and she could now do whatever she wanted. Praise the lord.

And now, Mary sat on a very uncomfortable chair in a very uncomfortable room in a very uncomfortable position until her therapist finally entered the room through a single, white door. She wore large, baggy clothes with a white jacket to top off her award winning outfit. She had long red hair twisted in top of her head, as of a snake had been coiled up in a pile of scales.

The therapist slumped down on a replica of the chair Mary sat in and pulled out a clipboard. She looked at Mary as if she were a slap in the face. This was the third time this week that Mary had gone to see her, and she couldn't look happier.

"Hello Mary. My name is Dr. Snitch and I will be your new counsellor."

Mary sat up a little straighter. "Wait a minute. I knew you looked weird. Where's Dr. Tracy?"

"Dr. Tracy...well....she thought that she wasn't the right fit for you, so she contacted me, and I just flew in from New York a couple of days ago to help you. From the accounts of Dr. Tracy, you seem to have a problem with concentration?"

Mary sighed. "Just say it. I'm an alcoholic with no life and never will have one."

Dr. Snitch sat up. "Mary, that's just the alcohol talking. I promise you, you will get a lot of help from me and your family."

At the mention of Mary's family she had to interrupt Dr. Snitch. "I don't think Dr. Tracy told you, but me and my family are no longer in touch."

"Can you please tell me why?" asked Dr. Snitch.

Mary was dying for a bottle of Pino Grigio so she could tell her family story without crying, but there was nothing in sight, so she mustered up all her strength, and let the imprisoned words seep out of her mouth.

"Well, I was born to two extremely messed up parents, with two other siblings. We were probably the poorest family in the neighborhood, most likely because of my father's drinking problem." Mary sat back in her chair and smiled at the painful memories that she shared with her demented family. "I remember when I tried my first beer. I was in second grade." Mary sighed and put her hand on her heart. "Good times."

Dr. Snitch interrupted Mary soon after her moment of happiness, only to squash it. "You know that's against the law, right?"

Mary looked at Dr. Snitch like she was crazy. "Do you think I'm a dumbass? Nothing is illegal in my father's eyes. Which of course didn't stop him from smoking weed in our family room, drinking at his job, and never wearing his seatbelt, but who gives a fuck, am I right?"

Dr. Snitch looked appalled at Mary's behavior like a mother seeing her child having anal sex. She cleared her throat before speaking. "Well, I for one care about the rules and laws of the U.S. and I think that your father was a sick man for doing all of that, but we can't change the past. Tell me a little more about your father, Mary."

Mary could've gone on for hours about her ill minded father, but she decided to keep it short and sweet. Well, more like short and sour. "He's an alcoholic."

Dr. Snitch lifted her eyebrows. "We've established that. I want to know how he is now, perhaps? Has he gotten over his drinking problem?"

Mary couldn't even remember the last time she heard from her father. She was pretty sure it was when he drunk texted her a picture of his dick, but she was drunk as well. How was she supposed to know? "I don't even know if the bastard is still alive. Serves him right not to live into his sixties, but I'm pretty sure the last time I checked he had a liver failure. I don't really give a shit though."

"Oh. Well, liver failures usually can be treated, but it depends on the condition. I recommend we have a little chat with your father and work some problems out. It might help you find closure."

"I don't need fucking closure that my father is still rasping! I left my family so I would never need to see them again! Never, ever, ever!!!"

Dr. Snitch nodded and put her glasses on. She wrote down a few things on her clipboard and stopped a moment after to stare at Mary for a long time.

"What are you doing?" Mary stuttered.

"Just analyzing this situation. It helps if I get a moment to think."

Dr. Snitch kept staring at Mary for two awkward minutes and nodded. She wrote a few more things down, and she handed Mary a slip of paper. "Here is a prescription to help with the drinking. Just head to your local Target and pick it up."

Mary took the paper and read the blurry words. "Wait? This'll make me not want to drink?!"

Dr. Snitch nodded like it didn't mean anything. "Yes, sweetie. You seem to be unhealthily drinking and it'll cause liver problems later on." Dr. Snitch stood up and smiled. "Please feel free to contact me if you have any questions. I will see you for our next session." Dr. Snitch walked away and opened the door. She glided out and began back toward her office.

Mary sat in the chair for a few minutes, just to process what had happened. She looked at her prescription a few times and considered not going to get the medicine. Alcohol was her buddy, and taking her wine and vodka and whiskey away was like taking candy from a baby. But, the last thing Mary wanted was to end up like her father, a grumpy old bastard with nothing to do but wait for death. She, by all means, didn't want that.

So with her head held high, Mary left the room she had spent twenty minutes in, the pharmacy implanted in her head.