Drunk Mom Novels & Stories

I smirked; he was nothing, weak. My mom turned to me, “And you, young man, how many times do I have to tell you, when you’re drunk, you go home to your condo? It’s dangerous to drive when you’re drunk!” she said in a stressed tone, fixing my polo shirt and wiping the blood from the corner of my lip, “Look at you, how many times did you get hit on the lip, and your cheeks are so red. What’s your target for today, a punching bag?” I didn’t answer and just laughed, but she gave me a stern look, so I stopped myself from laughing more, lest I get a strong pinch again. Her nails seemed to reach the bone.

she asked and her eyes slowly widened. “We reached!” I mumbled and helped her to get down. “I am just… I am just not feeling well.” She said frowning and I walked inside still holding her hand and placed a hand around her shoulder. “What happened to her?” I heard Dad asking. “She cannot enter this house while drunk. How can she drink?” Mom started shouting before I could reply. “She is not feeling well, Mom.” I said frowning at her and helped Nev to climb the steps and reached her room.

"Hmm..yeah, my Mom woke me up by literally pouring a bucket of water on my face. Then she started blabbering like crazy, that I was smelling like shit yesterday, that I was swinging like a snake on Ty's shoulder when he brought me home, and she and Dad felt so ashamed in front of Ty. Then she declared she isn't giving me any pocket money anymore because her hard-earned money is not to be spent on alcohol. Then oh my god Ann, she started rambling about my studies and my grades and stuff. At last, I ran out of there feeling crazy." Aaron raps breathlessly. I just stare at him without saying anything. I can't actually blame his Mom. He was that drunk yesterday. No parent would be proud to see t

She did remember her mom that last morning in the kitchen though, and that was enough. Mom sitting at the table in a dirty T-shirt and her underwear, so skinny and already “sloppy drunk and mean as a skunk” as her dad used to say. Remembered trying to ignore her as she’d slurred “Comere.” Remembered her mom getting mad and yelling at her as she’d tried to sit there quietly and eat her cereal without milk because they didn’t have any. “I’said comere!” The table jumping as mom’s hand slapped it. Tried to forget the sick feeling in her stomach as Mom tried to stand, and then lean across the table to grab her, her hand swiping nothing but air until, losing her balance—probably because she was to

Why making so much money then? That's the reason why I partied a lot and drinks alcohol but I don't do drugs ok? I am not that stupid!. Party, sex and alcohol that's the only thing I do. Mom always nagging me when she I smelled alcohol. She said I might die young from drinking too much at early age . I understand her but what can I do? When I spend my time all alone in the house I feel like I'm going crazy. I see my mom making something in the kitchen and I greeted her.

Nor did it help that my mother was the pack slut, sleeping with every man to numb the pain of losing her mate, my father, who died shortly after former Alpha Dimitri met his untimely demise. Since then, my mother has been drinking. She overmedicated on pain relievers at first, and when that did not work, she just drank. On some days, I would find her passed out on the couch and would not move for hours, succumbing to fatigue and unaware of what was going on around her. Then again, what about me? I lost him too. Did she care? Of course, she did not, and why would she? She would preferably drink her sorrows away and sleep with the next man who smiled her way. Yet, she could not find the time t

She said he was a good person and I was in good hands. "That's good. You want to join me?" Mom pulled out another glass of wine. I was about to refuse, but I thought she might need some company. The wine bottle was half empty. Mom started early. She was mumbling about life with Jaret and apologized for those times when he hurt me in tears. "Mom, I think you had enough wine. Why don't you go to bed? I'll clean this up." "No! Do you think I'm drunk?" Mom smacked her lips, fixing her hair.

I joked while bumping my fist on my chest. I took a cab home first because I had to change into something more... sexy, and when I opened the door to our small apartment, I was hit with the stale smell of alcohol and cigarettes. Mom was passed out on the floor, her long brown hair tangled around her face, and I couldn't help but think about the first time this happened. "Amanda?" Mom called out to me, slowly blinking as she stretched her hand to an empty bottle. I gulped, walking up to her. She was never like this, but when dad left, she turned to drinks and drugs and forgot that her children needed her.

Prologue “Mommy, have you been drinking again?” the little girl asked her mother as she stood over the counter to pour herself another glass of whiskey. The mother didn’t hear her daughter, or at least, she pretended not to. “Mommy!” she called again. “Mommy!” The mother drank almost half the glass of the whiskey and then poured herself another one, oblivious of her daughter, whose persistent cries filled the kitchen.

“I told you not to drink too much, you never listened to me.” “I was not drunk,” I said indignantly. Someone knocked on the door and pushed it open. Jeff peeked from the corner, looking innocent. “Baby,” he said entering the room. “You're safe.” I don't reply to him. “What happened to me?” I asked my moms. “Oh, I was so scared. Jeff called us. He said you had been drinking and you ran into the highway,” Margaret told me. “Sir down, you shouldn't be standing.”