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by MrTodd
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Adult · #1732636
Given: an animal and a simple action
She shuttered to think that something great was about to happen.  Her skin raised and hairs stood up, she felt nauseous, the room began to spin as the walls bowed in and out.  It was watching her with its nose.  Every stagger let up dust and her scent faintly traveled through the humid air.  It stalked her daily now.  She dreaded waking to its howl yet she knew she could not get on without it.

Steeply she inhaled with wavering nostrils.  Her attempt to regain control was an epic fail.  The beast was consuming her with every sip she took.  No one was left to hoist her up or drag her down-accept herself.  It is better to push yourself down than to risk being dragged under, she thought.  If she was going to hit bottom she did not want to bother trying to take anyone with her.  It was enough effort to take herself with all of her luggage trailing in the forefront. 

What a burden to society her life had been.  Her constant struggle to tame this monster growing inside her had wasted so much time and money that she could not even conceive why people had held her hand for so long.  Her family fought till the death of her; until she was rehabilitated.  All the white coats did was make her want to be eaten alive-to swallow much much more than drowned.  But the beast needed to feed off of something; as much as she loathed her existence she could not kill it.  They would have to cancel each other out like cats game of xoxo.  So her family pushed her rather than risk being dragged down.  She agreed with that decision despite how much it added to her complex of worthlessness.

Where did this all start?  The therapists had quizzed her on this matter many times and she always passed their tests but it never satiated the beast.  The looming smell of malt liquor beckoned them and united them and made them quarrel-less.  She had been taught that she was predisposed to such habits.  Both of her parents, her grandparents, her aunts and uncles all had the gluttonous monkey on their back.  But she must’ve been cursed with the family gorilla.

So it hounded her and drove her mad till the deathly ambrosia flowed amply.  It pounded its fits on her skull and dug it toes into the flesh of her back until her will broke and she flooded her body.  Why did it hound her, what triggered this disease?  Anything.  If there was a celebration it wanted to drink it well, if there was sadness or stress it wanted to drink it away.  Her body became an open bottle, an empty vessel cracking with every hit from the beast until she gave it what it craved. 

The enabler approached with booze in hand.  All she could focus on was the amber of the bottle coming closer and the putrid smell that churned her stomach yet made her heart beat hasten.  With the waxing and waning of the walls she reached out her clammy hand and smiled to him.  The bottle turned upside down and the elixir overwhelmed her throat-she choked.  Fallen was the beast, cold on the floor, as its reflection shone in her stony eyes. 

 

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1732636-Confession-of-an-Alcoholic