Breaking The Addiction

Before (Part 2)

West

You've heard the saying another dollar another day? For me it was another drink another day.

I laid on my bed, downing the vodka and knowing my parents could be home any minute. It wasn't like I really cared though. Well, I did, I just didn't think I did, because I knew what would happen if they found out I had a drinking problem.

You see, in our area, if you got addicted to something you were done for. You would be sent to some sort of government recovery program, though the rumors went they didn't try to help you get better, they just kind of brainwashed you. Barely anyone comes out of it...normal.

Instead it's like they're human sheep, just wondering aimlessly and trying to not get eaten by the wolves. A lot of people who come out don't even remember their parents or family, it's like their brain was reprogrammed.

Now, my problem was drinking. I had no clue why either, it's not like it was a pleasant feeling for me. Hell, I'm even a depressed drunk. But, that's not really the point, is it? No. I drank because it was a weird coping mechanism for me. It was a weird way to take care of the pain.

Vodka, beer, whiskey, any of it was great to me. I was a walking tragedy.

I stood up to throw the bottle away. The vodka was definitely in my system enough to make sure I couldn't walk straight.

After I threw it in the trash, I laid back fown on my bed and just started laughing. God, what would my parents do if or when they found me like this. Their show off son. I mean, I guess I would find out, I heard the front door open.

I just closed my eyes, a slight smile on my face. If anything, at least the authorities would take me in drunk. That had to count for something.

I heard footsteps nearing my door. It sounded like my mom. "West? Are you home? The principal said you didn't show up at school today. You okay hun?"

I laughed to myself and sat up on my bed. "I'm fine mom, I just can't stand up or walk or well, a lot of things."

I heard her open my door and look in, "West, you look fine. Why wouldn't you- I smell alcohol all around here, are you drunk? For God's sake West!" I looked over to her and watched her face as she saw how many bottles I had piled up in here. "I-I have to call them, I'm sorry West."

I didn't say anything. I just watched as she left, running towards the living room as my father came in and took her place. "West, why?"

Now my mom, she's yelled at me my whole life, I didn't feel guilty for this when it came to her. My dad was another deal. He's stood by me and watched me grow, he's the one I couldn't look straight in the eye while this happened.

"I'm sorry dad," I whispered.

I just saw his boots walk away and I knew he had left.

That's when they came in. I felt a prick on my neck and then I was out.

The government was taking me away, because people addicted to things were apparently dangerous to our society. So they had to make me better.