Empty The sunshine yellow wallpaper peels from the wall, revealing drywall that has grayed with age. It is so quiet in this dank motel room, that all I can hear is the broken air conditioner whirring. My only company is the half-empty bottle of whisky that sits on the bed side table, and the little bag of powder that will take the pain away. They say to save the best for last, so I wrap my raw, bitten bloody fingertips around the half-empty bottle of whisky. This motel room doesn't have the complementary glasses that most decent hotels do, so I am left to drink my emptiness from the bottle, in hope that it fills me with something. I slowly unscrew the cap of the whisky bottle, and begin guzzling it, like there won't be a tomorrow. It is a slow and agonizing burn as it goes down, but it fills me with a deep warmth. I crave more of this warmth, so I drink until the last drop of whisky is gone. But I want more; no I need more of this. Slowly, but surely, the whisky begins to take its toll. My vision begins to become blurry, and I start thinking of things that I should never have thought of. "I am sick of this! Why are you doing this?" She shouts. Her emerald eyes were ablaze with anger. I don't respond, no I can't respond. I just stand there, dead. She continues, her voice gets louder. “You are ruining our lives! GET OUT, AND DON'T COME BACK UNTIL YOU'RE SOBER!" I push past her, and run to my car. My car starts will a dull roar, and I am down the road within seconds. I drive until I see this motel, and I pull into the parking lot. The ground moves beneath my feet as I make my way over to the squat table in the corner of this motel room. With shaking hands I reach for my bag of Cocaine. The thought of the way it will make me forget pleases me. I kneel in front of the table, and begin arranging the Cocaine in the likeness of a rail. When I snort it, I feel different, almost euphoric. My whole body feels as if it is floating. Everything is wonderful, and all the pain has melted away. Then pain. Chest. Black. |