Of Monsters And Men | Discontinued |

Episode Seven - Goodbyes

It takes too much to get drunk. Even getting tipsy can take a couple of hours of steady drinking, if she can ever get tipsy. Yet, here she is, downing bottle after bottle, envelope signed by Alice flipping between her fingers. At least she didn't fail Alice- no, the woman is safe from Gabe, who's in prison for breaking all of Alice's windows in her house and her car. He'll be there for a couple of years.

"Ready to go to the funeral?" She mumbles. Rot hisses.

She pushes herself up, wiping at her eyes stubbornly. She can't wallow in guilt. Elliot Grote is dead, one she failed to protect. Her apartment smells so strongly of alcohol that it burns all the way up her nose and to the back of her eyes.

She strides from her apartment, slamming it behind her. She wipes the feeling from her nose, trotting down the cement steps. She pauses, sighing, and turns and strides right back inside, lugging a bottle of jack into her grip. She stomps her way back out, slamming the door behind her, hardly taking the time to lock it. She hurries down the stairs, liquor splashing inside of the glass.

'We've had enough,' Rot grumbles.

"No we haven't." She snaps, rolling her eyes. "I'm not even tipsy. Can't you change that or something? What happened to that total-one hundred percent- control over us, hm?"

'I can, but I won't. I feel like drunk Evren is mad Evren.'

"That's unfair." She whines, sloshing the bottle. "I can't even remember being drunk, ever. Let me get drunk for this miserable funeral. Please?"

'No.' Rot pauses for a few seconds. 'Maybe later. I'm curious about what it feels like.'

Evren grins as she continues walking, ignoring the stares she gets for her tired eyes, disheveled hair, and the half-empty bottle in her grip. At the crosswalk, leaning against the pole, a woman stares at her in disgust. She opens the bottle and tips half of it into her mouth. The woman turns away. Evren shrugs to herself.

'You're in a bad mood.' Rot remarks. Evren frowns, pushing her hair over her ear, rolling her eyes, putting her phone over her ear.

"No, I'm not in a bad mood."

'Yes, you are.'

"So?" She snaps, making her way across the street. She stops, shaking her head. "You know what? I am in a bad mood. You're the reason why Elliot is dead. You forced me to stay still and n I could have gotten him- I could have gotten him far away from Frank and cities away. He deserved a fresh start, dammit, Rot! And now I don't even want to go to the funeral because you killed him which means I killed him!

'You did not.'

"We both did, I just didn't want to. We owe it to Elliot to go to the funeral, even if we don't want to."

'No we don't.'

"Yes, we do." She growls, grip tightening on the bottle.

'What about Matt?'

She turns in a flurry, heading in the opposite direction of the church she's supposed to be going to. "Fine, whatever. You win. I don't care. Matt's probably pissed at us, anyways. That doesn't matter. I'm not going, that's it. Let's just..." She lets out a heavy breath, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. "Let's go visit James. I don't want to argue with you anymore."

'Are you going to say your goodbyes to him?'

"I don't know. I'll figure it out when we get there." She mutters, eyeing the bottle, then her ring. She looks away from it with an ache in her heart and stomach she doesn't quite understand, but doesn't question- dread.