We walked downtown to Hannah's. Murph barely spoke to me. I pushed open the door and the familiar smell of stale beer filled my nostrils. Murph's nose scrunched up a little. Clive spotted us and started waving manically from across the bar.
"Alrigh'" He said, leading us back to the table. Everyone smiled and got up. It was the first time they'd seen Murph since his release. There was hugs all round and as much as he tried to hide it, Murph thrived on it.
"How come he came?" Mark pulled me to the side and put a beer in my hand.
"I just thought I'd ask him. I'm as surprised as you are, don't worry" I sipped on the beer.
The night went smoothly. We eventually moved on to other bars and by the third, I was done. I grabbed Mark by the shoulders, leaning on them for support.
"I'm gonna head off now" I shouted down his ear over the thumping music.
"Okay, see you in the morning!" He yelled back. I looked over the crowd trying to find Murph but I had no such luck. In my drunken state, I made it out and home.
As expected, it was dark and silent. I stood in the hallway for a while, taking in the silence. Blood was rushing in my ears and I felt a feeling rise in my stomach that I knew all too well. Rushing to the bathroom, I made it to the toilet just before I could projectile vomit all over the walls. Eventually, I passed out on the bathroom floor.
YOU ARE READING
Too lost for therapy - The Wombats
Teen Fiction"He's gonna bring you down, Dan. I'm not gonna sugar-coat it, he's just gonna hold you back." TRIGGERS: This story contain strong mentions of suicide, self harm, PTSD and other mental illnesses throughout. Readers digression is advised.
