Addiction

Fuck it, lets get drunk

I stretched, letting out a melody of groans and whines. My morning routines start off sounding like a porno. Especially on mornings like these, when I wake up to pain. I ran my right hand over my chest, finding a lump and pressing down until I heard a satisfying pop and crunch. That's my rib popping back into place.

I got up, looking in the mirror probably wasn't the best idea. I decided to shower. Throwing on clean clothes and putting some bandages on my nose.

That's when all the pent up anger and hatred finally hit me. I punched the wall. Feeling nothing as usual, I continued, punching and punching and punching. When I was finally content with how many times I had struck the wall I pulled my fist back to examine the damage. Blood dripped from my fist and onto the already stained carpet.

I grabbed an empty back pack, ran downstairs and filled the bag with as much alcohol as I could find. My parents would be too out of it to notice anything was missing.

I slung the bag over my shoulders and ran. I ran and ran until I ended up at the spot. I sent a group text to the family that read "fuck it, let's get drunk. Spot."

Within ten minutes everyone was here and I had already gotten through a bottle of some sort of vodka by myself. Everyone drank in silence, the only communication through actions and hand signals. Laughter came from all of us. Even Sasha and Annie, the responsible ones, had decided to get shit faced with us.

I was through my third bottle maybe? I had lost count after one. I was drinking some sort of rum now, that's all I knew. I was starting to loose control over my thoughts, meaning I was starting to get there.

I knew I was going to regret it after my vision went black.