alcohol || m.c || (SLOW UPDATES)

my black combat boots squelched against the floors of the therapy building, drawing some attention to myself. ahh, sorry, i forgot to introduce myself. my name is eline. i'm in this building because of overdose of drinking. but, what's really the problem? the problem is that about 2 months ago i would go to my daily pub and drink about 9 bottles of beer before passing out, every single night.

yeah yeah, say what'd you like, but i'm perfectly normal. just a tad bit of a drinking problem. sense the sarcasm?

i push open the door to the therapist office and take a seat. i grab one of the magazines, tapping my foot against the hard floor and waiting for the time to strike 3:15. a guy with dark blue hair sits next to me, looking around nervously before going onto his phone. what's his problem? i flip over a few pages and start getting annoyed by his checking his phone and moving around uncomfortably.

"alright, what you here for?" i ask irritatingly. to be honest, i wanted to get out of this hell hole as possible.

"um, alcoholic." he said, looking down, almost ashamed.

  

"ahh, same. at least it lets us forget our worries, eh?" i asked, trying to put enthusiasm into this conversation but obviously failing.

"meh, i don't like my drinking. i'd rather do something other THAN drinking." he shrugged.

"okay, that's understandable. oh, sorry, i didn't introduce myself, i'm eline." i said, putting out my hand to shake. i'm forgetting to introduce myself a lot these days.

"well hello, eline. i am michael, mikey for short." he said with a bored face.

"ms. eline tusi, please come foward to room 318." a robotic voice boomed through one of the speakers.