Tainted - The Torn Trilogy - Book 3 DISCONTINUED

Hanging On

Danny

It’s been weeks of hell. I can barely keep myself together these days.  Melody’s never in the house and I’ve got a constant headache. I’m trying to give up, wean myself off the alcohol slowly but when I don’t have a drink these thoughts creep in.  I see her face when I’m in and out between drinks, memories play back.  Even the happy ones have the ability to make me want to reach for the bottle again.   And that’s what I’m doing.. I sigh wiping a dribble of whisky stopping it from dropping off my chin. Waste not want not.   I tell myself bringing my fingers to my lips, the sting of the dark liquid excites my taste buds.  With more and more whisky that goes down the less and less I care, I become numb even happy. 

“Dad?” An echo drones in my ears as I sway peering up from my place on the couch to see who it is.

“Not again. Dad, I thought I’d hidden that!” My daughter snaps yanking the bottle from my hands.  My brain works out what she’s going to do before my legs can walk and before I know it the rest of the whisky has been tipped down the sink.  

“What did you do that for!” How dare she..

“It’s for your own good. Here have this and sober up. And get dressed it’s eight am” she growls, narrowing her eyes at me.

I watch hazily as she clears up, the jeans she’s wearing hang off her legs slightly. I could be wrong, I can barely see anything my vision’s hazy through the vast amount of alcohol I’ve taken in.

“What?” she asks, screwing her face up in question. I must have been staring?

“She’s gone.” I whisper, grappling with sharp tears. My blood alcohol level must be dissipating, I’m getting emotional.

She rolls her eyes as I wipe my own with the back of my hand.   “Oh grow up. Yes, and once again there’s nothing I can do. Drink your water. I’ve left a change of clothes and put the water on for you. I’ve got to pick Summer up from Mark’s in a minute..”  She hisses, slamming her bedroom door behind her.   There’s one part of that sentence that stands out... Mark.

I need a drink. 

**** 

Sarah/Mark (Dream Sequence) 

 Work, everyone has to do it but why the hell does it have to be this stressful.  Sure I’m writing with amazing people but dear god I’m wiped out by the end of the day.  I really hope Mark has made me dinner...

The heat warms my cool skin as I step inside its quiet and there’s no sign that anyone’s been in for hours.  There goes my dream of a hot dinner on the table, it seems like I never get any time with Mark or anyone for that matter these days.  I’m either a work or Melody’s at her dads or grandma’s and Mark works as much as me.

“Hello? Mark!?”

A few minutes of silence confirms my theories, shit.  Today has been so stressful, is it too much to ask to have a hot dinner and a hug when I get home?  Nevertheless I shower and change into cosy pyjamas, these winter nights are drawing in and there’s a chill in this house.  A few minutes later I abandon the need for food and indulge in a spot of rubbish TV and Dr Phil re runs, but I can feel my eyes dropping, the small glow of the lamp diming by the second until it finally shuts down and sleep takes over...

“Sarah?...”  “Sar? Sweetheart wake up..”

I’m awoken by a light shaking of my shoulder coupled with the smell of food, rousing me to full lucidity.  As Mark scuttles off into the kitchen I’m left to nurse my aching back and shoulders, ugh I must have slept funny again.