Just Survive Somehow

Chapter 11 - Whiskey

"Why don't you go finish the last of your whiskey?" He snorted before trying to leave.

The others had all retired into the train car for the night leaving Ahren and me to stand alone.

I grabbed his arm. "Ahren you know just as well as I do how much I hate what I do."

"Then why do you do it?" He turned to face me, a sincere expression of sadness clouding his features.

I couldn't help but break eye contact with him. I knew every time I took a sip from a bottle of alcohol it tore a shred of life from him. It disappointed him, it disappointed me too.

He spoke before I found the words I was looking for to explain it to him.

"You were fine back at the cabin. What changed?"

"You remember what it was like being on the run all the time, constantly living in fear. When we were at the cabin I had some feeling of reassurance, it felt safer. Being here, going on runs every day to try and find supplies, it's too familiar."

I'd found the words I had so desperately been searching for. My mind finally had an answer for me and for him.

"I still see it every time I close my eyes which becomes less and less every day." I explained it to him the best I could explain it to myself.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he just watched me intently as if trying to pick up on something.

"What?" I finally asked, irritated by his silence.

"It's not your fault, it never was." He finally spoke.

The words that left his mouth sunk right into my soul. I couldn't help but feel guilty. Part of me knew that it had never been my fault, but part of me had also convinced myself that it was my fault.

"What's got you suddenly so worked up about all of this?" Ahren finally asked.

I sighed, it was something that even myself had not yet been able to figure out. For months I'd been at peace with the situation, but something had changed and I didn't know what.

"I honestly don't know." I told him, shaking my head as I spoke.

"I'm gonna head up for watch." He replied before leaving.

My eyes followed him as he jogged towards the area we had set up for watch duty. I finally looked away as he disappeared. I found my bottle of whiskey and took a seat on the floor, leaning myself against the wall of the train car.

"My mind's shitting me at this point." I muttered before taking a swig from the bottle. A burning sensation erupted in the back of my throat from the straight whiskey. I'd once read in an article that straight whiskey was 40% alcohol compared to a can of beer that was only 5-7%. I'd also read that gargling a mixture of, whiskey, warm water, and honey, could help soothe a sore throat. I'd never tried that remedy but apparently, it worked wonders.

I hadn't even realized that I'd finished the bottle until only a single drop fell onto my tongue when I poured the bottle over my mouth.

"What a shame." I whispered to myself before tucking the empty bottle away from everybody else. 

When I finally closed my eyes my brain stayed quiet. It didn't bother sending any alcohol-induced dreams to me. Instead, it let me sleep. Not a deep sleep, just a light sleep to get me through the night and that were all I needed.