the siren † john seed

38

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Liquorice lay on a blanket, the grass prickling her gently through it. She lay, watching as the sky changed colours with the setting sun. Between her fingers was a packet that contained her worst nightmare.

John had forgiven her, but Liquorice couldn't find any ounce of forgiveness for herself. She hated everything, even the skies right now.

Liquorice bathed in isolation, avoiding John without making it seem obvious she was avoiding him. Liquorice would return to him normally when she figures out to forgive herself. She's not even sure what normal is.

Maybe she was overthinking the whole situation, but she felt she was being avoided too. She noticed John busying himself with a bunch of stuff when Liquorice was around. Liquorice just wanted to stop overanalyzing everything.

Liquorice brought the white stick to her lips and just laid there with it sitting between her lips.

She needed someone to vent to but she had nobody to listen to her. Nobody wanted to hear her whine and possibly cry about a probably not big situation. Nobody wanted to deal with a sad Liquorice.

She brings her golden lighter to the end of the bud, igniting a fire on the end. She hated herself for giving in to her cravings.

She rests an arm under her head and takes in the sky, her free hand holding the bud. As she exhale, dark smoke came out of her lungs, coating the air in the scent.

Liquorice hated herself. She felt so guilty for doing this, the only thing that could kill her. She stops and takes off the flame, a hiss sound emitting from within it.

She sucks in a deep breath before pulling herself up from her spot on the ground. She wraps the cotton blanket around her shoulders and makes her way back to the house.

The only thing lighting up the house is the small crackling flames in the fireplace. Besides the light emitted from the fireplace, it was pitch black, the house seeming more eerie and empty.

She drops the blanket onto a couch and makes her way to the fire. She stands in front of the fire for a long minute before she searches the room. Her eyes land on the thing she was looking for, and her lips curl into a smile.

"Hello you," Liquorice says, her voice quiet in the empty room. She grabs the bottle from its place and sits on a love-seat, reading the label.

She looks around the room and then back to the bottle. If she were to forget everything, even temporarily, would be better than feeling the deep hatred for herself right now. Tomorrow, she would forget she hated herself and then she'll find herself able to look at him more than a few seconds.

She held a empty glass in her fingers, guiltily looking at the bottle. If this was for the greater good, why did she feel so guilty?

Liquorice decided forgetting everything wasn't an option so she decided on one cup. She was going to drink only one cup of this expensive wine, and then she'll return to the room she shared with John and then she'll sleep.

Something happened to just one cup.

••

Liquorice clutched the toilet seat, her stomach trying to rid of the alcohol in her system.

When Liquorice was done, she sat against the wall with her knees pulled up to her chest. She felt so sick and horrible—she wanted nothing but to travel back in time to stop herself from drinking the whole bottle of wine.