Not Enough (Scömìche)

CH 9

"Mitch, you can't go out!"

"Fucking watch me!"

It's Wednesday night, a little past 9 PM and Mitch is already wasted beyond beliefs. Earlier today he used his fake ID to buy some vodka, having shots with himself for three hours watching an old SpongeBob rerun on TV, not even having a rule when to drink but he just downed one shot after the other until Chad came back from school. Mitch skipped all of his classes today, not even bothering to exit the house at all this morning but instead convincing his friend he was not mentally stable enough to go so Chad just let him sleep in, shocked when he found his friend halfway passed out on the couch, a bottle of burning liquor in his hands when he got back home. Today was also Trent's party. Mitch really, really wants to go because he wants to forget about everything, but he's been drunk all the time ever since he arrived at Chad's house on Monday. He understands why it's not a good idea, but he feels like alcohol just doesn't have the effect on him that he wishes to have. He needs something more, something stronger to numb his pain. He would pass out in a dark alley and no one would find him, and if he's being completely honest maybe that is also part of his plan. But Chad is being a buzzkill.

"Mitch you can't go to a party where they have drugs after you've had a bottle of vodka, are you crazy? You're gonna get yourself killed!"

"Maybe that's what I want!"

Mitch realizes too late what he just said, covers his mouth with his hands to take it all back, but he can't. Even in his state, the delayed perception, the dizziness and drowsiness, he still knows better than to spill his deepest, darkest thoughts.

"Mitch..." Chad begins carefully, but Mitch interrupts him.

"I didn't mean it."

"Of course you didn't. Now sit down, please?"

He's being so calm, why the fuck is he being calm?!

"No."

"Mitch, please. You can go to the party if you sit down."

"Okay, fine." As long as he can go to the party. Mitch sits back down on the couch, feels his head spin and his stomach churn as soon as he moves. He puts a hand in front of his mouth, he's getting sick. But he can keep it in. Yes, everything's fine.

"Mitch, promise to wait for me, I'm going to get something."

Mitch finds himself nodding and Chad disappears into the hallway, coming back only a few minutes later with a huge bottle of water. Mitch wonders what he wants to do with it when Chad opens it and holds it to Mitch's lips.

"Drink."

"Don't wanna."

"Mitch, for god's sake. Don't be difficult."

Mitch rolls his eyes, which is a mistake. He feels dizzy again. As long as he stares at one spot he's fine, but when he moves just the tiniest bit-

He downs half of the bottle in one go, kind of thankful for the cold liquid to be able to wash away the burning in his throat. He absolutely hates the burning caused by strong liquor, it makes him feel like his throat is swelling up and he can't breathe but he loves how careless he gets. He loves the thrill, the lowering of his rationality that makes him take risks he could only dream of while being sober. When drunk, Mitch can be the person he aspires to be - hook up with cute b- girls, kiss, make out... He pretends to be fearless but he's the complete opposite, only when he's drunk he can get this confidence that he's so desperately trying to achieve. His cockiness and attitude is just a mask to cover up his insecurities, his self-loathing, his miserable life. How much his parents scarred him in his childhood, locking him up in the basement, not letting him out for weeks. He lived in the dark day and night, spent weeks crying, even praying for a miracle to happen although he's probably the least religious person in the world. Not only locking him up, that was just the tip of the iceberg. He's been trying to repress it so much that it all comes tumbled out when he's drunk, the truth surfaces and before he knows it he spills everything to his friend and breaks down crying. From the basement punishment to actually being beaten, he's been through it all. How many times did he have to stay away from school not because he was skipping classes once again but because he couldn't face his friends with bruises on his face? Too many times.