The smell of wine and old perfume wafted lazily around Emma, taking her sanity out of her head and bringing it right back. She lazily let the glass slip out of her hand and casually watched it shatter on the ground. The fragments scattered themselves everywhere, and she let her head fall back, a grin falling across her face. The crashing sound was music to her drunken mind. Was that the fourth or fifth time she had done that? Regardless, she needed to her that cracking again.
Emma grabbed herself a new glass and poured herself another drink. The liquid seeped through her mouth, intoxicating, just like the silence...
A rustle from behind forced her to turn around.
She peered over the edge of the stained couch. A young blonde girl stood in the doorway, staring in disbelief at the mess of broken glass and wine splatters. "Mom?"
The shock in her daughter's voice was enough to cause Emma to sober slightly. The realization of what she had done hit her with the force of a tidal wave. "Rose..."
Tears filling her eyes, Emma forced herself to look away from her child. Raising her head slightly, she caught sight of herself in a mirror across from her. The reflection blinked, bloodshot eyes and smeared makeup acknowledging her.
All the reasons to grab another drink flooded back.
Look at me, what have I become.
A crowd of thousands stood before her, screaming and cheering. Cameras flashed, and everything smelled of roses and cologne. A soft hand grabbed her own.
She turned around just in time to see a man smiling at her. They kissed, and the crowd grew impossibly louder.
I was once a gentleman.
A harsher memory resurfaced. A pair of hands seized Emma from behind and slid their way up her chest, rumpling her dress. "You put on a show on the carpet tonight, honey. Think you could do that again in bed?"
Emma shoved the man away and scrambled out of the party. Not a single guest noticed.
But the thief came out in my London town, so I must leave you now.
Her suite door almost broke from the force of her opening it. She charged to the mini bar, looking for a drink of water to calm her beating heart and pounding head.
She rummaged haplessly through the fridge, shoving past piles of food and soda. She finally found a bottle of water and reached for it.
Another bottle next to it stopped her.
The vodka bottle was close to full. She gingerly picked it up and examined it. Nothing was stopping her. In fact, the more she stared at the it, the more she was sure that the alcohol was straight out begging her to drink it.
She grabbed a glass and carefully poured it out. One or two drinks couldn't hurt.
But I will remember the ups and downs.
"Mom!"
The cracking voice of the girl in front of her pulled Emma back to reality. The woman forced herself to look at her daughter and glare at her. Much to her displeasure, Rose glared right back.
Emma clumsily pushed herself to her feet and staggered toward the door, ignoring the stabs of pain as each shard of glass pushed their way into her skin. "Go to bed," she growled. She winced at how slurred her voice was.
"No." Rose put herself in between her mother and the doorway. "Mom, what are you doing?"
"It doesn't matter." She gently pushed the girl out of her way and continued down the hall to the front door. She seized a scarf from the coat rack and was about to leave when she heard Rose's voice again.
"Mother."
Emma stayed silent. Rose never called her that unless she was truly angry.
"I want to know where you're going."
Emma turned around one last time to stare at her daughter. The shell of a child stared right back. Rose wouldn't miss her. She had screamed countless times about how much she hated her. They would always fight, and Rose would always win. Emma felt a gnawing knot of guilt eating her away. She was never there for her. That needed to stop.
"Out," she finally answered, turning away once again. "Stay here. I'll be back."
Deep down, they both knew she was lying.
Goodbye my friends, goodbye to the money.
Emma walked off as a quickly as she could without staggering. Everything stung: the glass in her feet, her tears, the alcohol throbbing through her head, and the relentless memories.
She tripped, and her had began to swim with the laughter of a crowd and the snide voice of a talk show host.
"You know, I bet there are more Instagram pictures of her drunk than pictures of a white girl's Starbucks!"
Adieu to the fuckers that still think it's funny.
A honk yanked her out of the clouds. She ran, two steps ahead of being hit by a car. Gasping for breath, she started to sprint. She pulled the scarf around her face, hoping no one would recognize her.
She slipped down an alleyway, darkness following. A cloud drifted over the moon and a nearby streetlight flickered out, mockingly slow.
I just want to turn the lights on in these volatile times.
An eternity later, Emma reached her destination. A bridge loomed ahead.
I just want to turn the lights on in these volatile times.
AN: So I decided to do a thing where I choose a song and write a story about it. You're welcome to request a song, but i may take me a day or two to write it. Song: Volatile Times by IAMX
