***THIS IS BASED OFF OF THE SONG "Whiskey Lullaby"(feat. Alison Krauss) AND ALL RIGHTS OF THE SONG GO TO THEM AND TO THE WRITERS AND I TAKE NO OWNERSHIP IN THE SONG. I DO KNOW THAT IT IS NOT EXACT TO THE SONG BUT I DO TAKE OWNERSHIP IN THE WRITING AND SO PLEASE DO NOT COPY!
I HIGHLY SUGGEST WATCHING THE VIDEO BEFORE/AFTER READING AND LISTENING TO THE SONG WHILE READING OR AT LEAST BEFORE/AFTER. ENJOY!***
He stepped off the bus with a bright smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. He gripped his bags tightly in his hands and made his way up the dirt road to his small house. His dog barked but then ran towards him jumping up, placing her paws on his shoulders. He wrestled; played; and loved on her, kissing her head, hugging her, and giving her belly rubs that she loves so much. Throwing the tennis ball one more time he headed to the front door. He was ready to see her, his true love.
It was morning and the house seemed empty, she's probably sleeping, he thought. He left his bags by the door and headed up the stairs quietly. He heard a noise down the hall and made his way towards their room. What he saw broke him into a thousand different pieces. His beautiful wife was with his best friend, both of them in their underwear kissing on the bed he made.
He coughed and both their heads turned towards him, surprise in their eyes. He ran back down the stairs and out the house with her yelling and sobbing behind him.
He drove the motorcycle to the corner bar where he drank and drank. Tears streamed down his cheeks and the alcohol slithering down his throat wouldn't stop it. It wouldn't end the pain. He bought some more bottles of the dark whiskey before being kicked out, and stopped by the store on his way to a hotel. He laid random bills on the front desk, drunkenly mumbling how he needed a room.
He took the key and his bags and made his way up to his room. He stayed there for a year and three days. This is how the final three days went:
The first day he drank all day and a drunken rage filled him, causing him to trash the room. He stumbled and fell like the stumbling drunk he was. He threw empty bottles at the wall screaming at the shattered pieces that cut his hand, telling them they caused him pain. Oh so much pain; a blind, horrid pain that stung worse with every deep cut. He would twitch and fall into random objects with no control of what he was doing. He lost half of his mind this day.
The second day he drank all day and the sadness and pain he felt intensified and literally brought him to his knees. He shouted out, asking why the pain wouldn't go away, why the alcohol won't numb it, why she won't get out of his brain. He would have spasms from going a few minutes without the liquor that could no longer numb him from the pain he felt in his heart. He would tear open his shirt and claw at his chest until he was bleeding, trying desperately to end the pain in his heart. He cried his body dry and his hands were covered in his own blood. He rocked back and forth in a corner mumbling about how they would start a family but it was all his fault. He lost the rest of his mind this day.
The third day he decided enough was enough. He didn't want any more pain and he didn't know how to take it away. Nobody was there for him but his thoughts were irrational, he didn't believe he could get out of this hole. Even the phone calls of those who loved him couldn't shine through the dark mass of clouds that filled his entire body. His mind was gone, his heart was pumping almost out of his chest, and his soul seemed broken. He pulled out the handgun he had bought the day he found her and him in his bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and held the note he had wrote in his hand. The picture of them before he left laid beside him, reminding him of what could've been. Should've been. Closing his eyes he quietly whispered,"I love her so much."
He put the bottle to his head and pulled the trigger, and finally drank away her memory.
Life is short but this time it was bigger than the strength he had to get up off his knees.
