Confessions of a Teenage Alcoholic

Chapter 1

"Winter."

"Sharon."

"Please, I need just a little cooperation from you. There is no way I can try and help you, if you don't start communicating with me." Sharon Smith sighed. She was seated in a comfortable looking white chair across from me. Her office was pretty simple and had a beautiful white bookcase filled to capacity with books. And except for her high school and college diplomas nothing else filled the spaces on her beige walls. There was a window with a breathtaking view of a courtyard with trees and a fountain directly behind her. A small beige coffee table separated Sharon and I. I was lounging on a beige and white couch that was pretty comfortable and for the first two sessions had fantasized about taking a nap on. My first session here I was shocked at how boring her room was and now I believe it matches her personality to a tee.

Sharon wasn't drop dead gorgeous. But she was definitely far from ugly. Sharon was a natural blonde with a stick like figure. Seriously she had nothing going for her in the front or back area. So the fact that she wore such bulky clothing didn't do her in any favors. Currently, she was swimming in a bright blue dress that had a plunging neckline that showed off barely her visible A-cups. Her blonde hair was twisted into a bun that sat high on her head.

Her face was the real money maker. She had really soft features and her bright green eyes were framed by long lashes that definitely didn't mascara to stand out. Her teeth were a bright white color and perfectly straight. I learned in our first session that she boycotted coffee for fear it would dull her teeth. 

Sharon Smith was bestowed the honor of being my addictions therapist. Because apparently having a drink or twelve before school makes me an alcohol.

"What's so funny? And before you answer I can see the smirk plastered on your face, Winter." Sharon eyed me suspiciously.

I started picking at the strings on my ripped jeans and scanned the many titles on her bookshelf. Looking into her prodding eyes for an hour and a half everyday sometimes left me feeling drained. She had this strange ability to see into my soul and I hated it. In fact I hated everything about my current situation.

"Look Sharon. I don't really care for your help. But thanks for that very tempting offer." I snorted. I knew there was probably fire in my brown eyes as I locked in gazes with her green ones.

Another sigh from Sharon. She closed the red spiral notebook in her lap and set it on the brown coffee table that separated us. She placed her black pen on top of it and looked very down at them for a couple seconds with a contemplating look on her face.

Meeting my gaze yet again, she smiled. For some reason it made me incredibly nervous and I fidgeted with sleeve of my red Pink hoodie.

"You know this is going to sound crazy but I was once a lot like you. Stubborn and so sure no one could ever understand what was going on in my head. But you know what I honestly think Winter? You're just a scared little kid." Sharon spoke with a very straight face.

It was like a volcano erupted in me. Before I knew it I was leaning over the coffee table face to face with Sharon and ready for war.

"Oh I'm a fucking scared little kid? You don't know jack shit about me lady. The shit I had to see and live with. My fucking holier than thou father is a raging dick. Who constantly put me down and made me feel lower than a pile of dog shit. So yeah I found a way out. And it may not be acceptable in societies eyes but it kept me from hurting. And that's all I really wanted was to feel numb and not hurt anymore." Towards the end of my rant my voice grew softer and I had melted back into my place on the couch. Clutching a beige pillow to my chest, I tried to calm the whirlwind of emotions I felt stirring inside me.

"Alcohol is kind of like my first love. Once we met I was hooked and addicted. Wherever I went I always a drink in me and some more with me." The words felt foreign coming out of my mouth. But the flood gate had been opened and I didn't know how to stop it.

Sharon had begun writing in that stupid red notebook of hers. Once she had captured my words, she looked into my eyes and spoke, "When was the first time you had a drink?"

"I was thirteen. My father had called me a bunch of horrible names and I fled to my best friend's house. It was always like a safe haven for me. Her parents were out and she said she knew a way I could feel better. She left her room and came back with a huge dark colored bottle and passed it to me. She told me to just drink and after awhile I wouldn't even know what pain was." Tears poured from my eyes and wet the fabric of my jeans. Nothing was funny but I laughed to myself anyway and continued with my story.

"We finished the whole bottle together and filled it with water and stuck back on the liquor shelf. We laughed and cried and laughed some more. She was right. I couldn't even describe the feeling of pain at the time. And in that moment my love affair with alcohol began and we became inseparable."

We sat staring at each other for a few minutes in silence. I was grateful that she didn't try speaking to me again. She just let the tears fall from my eyes and only broke the peaceful trance we were in to hand me a tissue box.

As I blew my nose and tried to regain some sort of composure, the timer that signaled the end of our session chimed. I grabbed my phone that lay discarded next to me on the couch and made a beeline for the door that led to the reception area. I knew my grandmother was sitting out there waiting for me just like she did for the last two sessions.

"Bye Winter. I'll see you tomorrow for our fourth session." Sharon called after me as I walked out of her office.