Page 11 of Blackout

Shaking the possibility from my head, I rise from the couch and walk into the kitchen. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, I slide it under the tap and fill it with water. My phone rings and I set the glass down on the counter before reaching inside my kutte to retrieve it. I stare at Billy’s name on the screen and decline the call.

Breathe.

Just fucking breathe.

Pocketing the phone, I take the glass and dump the water in the sink. Eying the bottle of scotch on the counter, I move to the refrigerator and fill my glass with ice.

The phone rings again.

The girl continues to cry.

And me?

I reach for the bottle. Filling my glass, I give myself a pass. It’s just one drink. It's not like I’m shooting heroin or snorting blow.

Just one drink.

Something to take the edge off.

To dull the sound of that innocent girls cries.

The first swig goes down easy and before I realize it, one drink turns to two.

I forget to breathe.

My head goes under and I drown.

I just fucking drown.

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