Ya Que Sobrio No Me Da の小説・ストーリー

-I took a deep breath and continued-: I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know why I do it every, every, every time It's only when I'm lonely Sometimes I just wanna cave And I don't wanna fight I try and I try and I try and I try and I try and I try and I try Just hold me, I'm lonely. -I looked at the mother-: Momma, I'm so sorry I'm not sober anymore - now to the dad-: and daddy, please forgive me for the drinks spilled on the floor -then to the girls- : To the ones who never left me we've been down this road before. I'm so sorry, I'm not sober... Anymore. -my gaze for some reason looked for Connor, I felt my eyes filling with tears as well as the others-. I'm sorry to my futu

God help me. He didn't even say a word as he wore it on me. "I'm not wearing a bra? Where's my other bra?" I asked. "Can you stop talking already? You've been a nuisance all night and I'm trying so hard to tolerate you know that you're sober." That hurt. I was a nuisance? "Well, I'm sorry. When people get drunk..they just don't know how to control themselves and end up being a nuisance to whoever was with them. Why didn't you let Dante take me? He would not be complaining, anyways." I sighed.

Me: Hey uhm yeah I'm still coming : ) And uhm no I don't drink Jonathan (new boy): We'll change that tonight ♡ I just left him on read I mean what do I say? I don't want everyone to know I have schizophrenia. I haven't had an episode since last year. The meds they prescribed are working I guess Checking the time it's still 12 pm let me just pass the time. Opening my laptop I go onto N*****x. I started watching The Five Juana's. Pausing the film I head out of my room to make microwaveable popcorn

Drunk me, is not a good thing and I remember in my hazy stupor why this is not something I ever do to myself. I am an emotional mess, sobbing into my own lap on the floor and cradling my umpteenth cocktail of hard liquor while pulling my mental state into disarray.

It’s Saccone. “Why aren’t you drinking? There is nothing in it, not even a truth serum, as much as I would want one right now.” He knows he’s got me. And the images look bad, lacking context.

“Because I wanted to.” The honesty in his tone disarmed me. No excuses, no calculated words. Just the truth. My heart hammered against my ribs, and I found myself looking away, unable to hold his gaze. Silence fell again, thick with tension. I focused on my coffee, gripping the mug like it was a lifeline. My mind screamed a hundred thoughts at once, but my mouth refused to form any of them. Before I could attempt a reply, my phone buzzed loudly on the counter. I snatched it up, grateful for the distraction. Serena’s name flashed across the screen.

I say sourly. "Hey, I'm not the one who came up with the idea." "Well, you shouldn't even be considering it. I think I'm drunk," I retort. "That's cute," he grimaces. "But I'd like to point out that what you're drinking is a non-alcoholic drink. I specifically asked them not to give you alcohol because I was barely able to coax you away from the jaws of death when you were sober. What are the odds of me being able to do that when you're pi$$ed?"

I can't go to the Liquor Store or any one in New York for that matter, I've been banned, word spreaded. Rye is dead, which means my only friend and my only shit supplier is dead, I have to get a dealer as soon as possible. I don't have the strength to go through withdrawal symptoms, not that I have any thoughts of quitting drugs. It's an addiction, my life now, no need to sugarcoat shit, I'm a stoner, a junkie, does life gets any better, or any worse?