Sparks (TheCampingRusher Short Story)

Prologue

I used to drink. A lot. I think the reason most people do it is to forget. A bottle of Jack Daniels numbs the pain long enough for you to pretend to have your shit together. Me? I did it for the opposite reason. I used to think that being shit-face drunk was the only way to feel anything, even if that feeling was just drunk.

I drowned my emptiness in liquor of various types. The idea of spirits burning my throat sounded a lot better than the numbness I had grown accustomed to. Soon enough, however, it stopped working. I figured more would do the trick and it did. For a while. Then, one day "more" wasn't enough either, and I was back to the same place.

Wanna know the worst part?

I didn't care.