The distinct droning of the fan filled the room, almost mimicking the sound of rain. The cool, crisp air reached my nerves sending a shiver down my spine. I pulled my blanket over my head to try to keep myself warm. I can hear my cat stirring in its sleep, lying right below me. Outside, the howling of dogs pierce through the stillness of the night. Chilling. What followed was a rumble and the sound of metal clanging. I rubbed my eyes with bare knuckles, seeing stars in the process.
I groaned.
What time was it? I reached underneath my pillow, groping for my phone in the darkness. I grasped something, but it wasn't my phone. What it was, was a crumpled piece of paper. I straightened it, and traced the wrinkled lines with a finger. Such fury.
I reached for the lamp at my bedside slowly, careful not to awaken my beloved furry feline. Let there be light, I whispered as I turned on the lamp, and the sudden brightness almost startled me.
Now, where did I put my glasses? Ah, there it is.
I read the note twice through. I thought I had thrown it away? And with it the memories, gone for good? Yet here it is again, back to haunt me. Good intentions, bad decisions. Making me what I am, right here, right now.
I touched a hand on my forehead as a searing pain began to sting my noggin. I was clearly feeling the full force of last night. Alcohol is sometimes like sleep. It gives the user a temporary escape from life and all its bullshit. Helps one ignore his problems. Because there is solace in ignorance, yes? Alas, too much of either can result in a god-awful migraine.
Screw it, I mumbled to myself, as I reached under my bed grabbing a bottle by the neck. I upended it, but nothing seemed to flow. Darn, ran out again.
I left the bottle at my side and closed my eyes tightly, not even bothering to turn off the lamp. If not the former, then the latter right?
'Let me return to sleep then, my momentary escape,' I muttered.
I groaned.
What time was it? I reached underneath my pillow, groping for my phone in the darkness. I grasped something, but it wasn't my phone. What it was, was a crumpled piece of paper. I straightened it, and traced the wrinkled lines with a finger. Such fury.
I reached for the lamp at my bedside slowly, careful not to awaken my beloved furry feline. Let there be light, I whispered as I turned on the lamp, and the sudden brightness almost startled me.
Now, where did I put my glasses? Ah, there it is.
I read the note twice through. I thought I had thrown it away? And with it the memories, gone for good? Yet here it is again, back to haunt me. Good intentions, bad decisions. Making me what I am, right here, right now.
I touched a hand on my forehead as a searing pain began to sting my noggin. I was clearly feeling the full force of last night. Alcohol is sometimes like sleep. It gives the user a temporary escape from life and all its bullshit. Helps one ignore his problems. Because there is solace in ignorance, yes? Alas, too much of either can result in a god-awful migraine.
Screw it, I mumbled to myself, as I reached under my bed grabbing a bottle by the neck. I upended it, but nothing seemed to flow. Darn, ran out again.
I left the bottle at my side and closed my eyes tightly, not even bothering to turn off the lamp. If not the former, then the latter right?
'Let me return to sleep then, my momentary escape,' I muttered.
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