Sober

I never thought in a million years that I would turn into that kind of person. That kind of person who would fuck everything up just to get another shot of her favorite liquor, or that person who would throw away fifteen year friendships for another trip to her favorite bar. I never in a million years thought that I’d be that kind of person, the kind of person I always hated growing up, the kind of person who everyone hated but couldn’t help but be at one point in their life. But in reality, I was that kind of person and I hated it, I think that’s why I became more of that person every day.

“Good morning, sweetness. Are you ready?”

My eyes wouldn’t adjust; they just kept blurring and squinting against the suns rays. I glanced at the clock and groaned, it was four in the afternoon and I had slept the day away, again. “Matt?”

“Yeah, I’m at the door, come let me in?” he suggested before he hung up, leaving me in someone of a daze. It took all of three minutes to get what he said through the hung-over fog that misted around my brain. When I managed to climb out of the bed without the world spinning under my fingertips, I scrabbled to the door and unlocked it before I hurried to the hall bathroom and emptied all of my favorites from the night before into the toilet. “Johnny said he saw you at the bar again, I thought we came to a deal of you—stopping all of this.”

“I swear I will,” I wiped my eyes from the tears that leaked out while I heaved, it was painful but you have to take the bad with the good, even if their was only a small percentage of all I did that was good. “I was just having one last night out with my friends.”

“Funny, I wasn’t invited,” Matt leaned against the frame, handing over a glass of water he must have got me after he seen me run to the bathroom like an athlete ready to win the gold. “Val and I are having a party tonight for Zacky, it’s his birthday. You remember don’t you?”

“To be honest, I don’t remember it being December,” I cleared my throat and wobbly stood on my own to feet, with the held up the sink counter. “But I guess it is.”

“I guess it is,” he murmured disapprovingly as I moved past him, I didn’t need to see his face while he lectured me. It made me feel bad, I didn’t want it. I felt bad enough because it was my own fault, I didn’t have the will to spot something that made me feel alive and wanted, I fit in—when I was drunk. “Kalia, babe, please just stop all of this. Me and the guy’s drink, hell we’ve been alcoholics and some of us are still, at times. But we know when enough is, you don’t. You need to stop all of this before you kill someone, mainly yourself.”

“Matt, I know,” I nodded my head and grabbed hold of the coffee pot filter, I emptied the old and soggy grounds from the morning before and filled it with new ones and a new filter then filled the pot with water and waited for it to make some coffee. “And I’m trying; I told you I was having one last night out.”

“With friends, I know this story because you’ve told it to me twice, Jimmy once, Johnny three times, Zacky twice and Brian five times; enough is e-fucking-nough, Kalia!” Matt slammed his fist against the counter, I jumped out of reflex and spun around looking at him with wide eyes. “I don’t even know you anymore, my own sister and I hate that.”

“I’ll be at your house at seven, is that good?” I ended the subject on a sour note, glaring into those beautiful eyes of his—it hurt for him to say that he didn’t even know me any more, but I didn’t blame him. But I didn’t want to think of it—when I was drunk, I was free; I am free without pain and worries, problems and heartache. What was the use of his stern confrontations? They never worked. I’m just slowly ending what life I know, without wanting or knowing I’m doing it when I do—but I can’t stop it.

“Six thirty,” he spoke harshly as he turned around and walked away from the kitchen, I could hear the door slam as I watched out the window, he stalked to his car and left. I could tell he was forcing back tears; he always got red in the face when he wanted to cry. I was making my big brother, my protector, cry. And I felt horrible.

—Six Thirty—

“Kalia!” I smiled as I walked into Matt’s home, I wasn’t drunk and I actually looked nice instead of ran over and put up wet. It hurt not being numb, that was the worse part of it—but I was determined, even if only for the moment to not drink and hurt my family, my friends. I walked up to the man that called out my name, but everyone else had gotten quiet, I hated having to fill the silence. It scared me; it screamed the truth—which was that they knew what I was and felt bad for me.

“Happy Birthday Zacky,” I leaned up on my toes and pressed a soft kiss on his cheek and then wrapped my arms around his stomach and gave him one of my—used to be—famous teddy bear hugs.

“Ah, my favorite,” he snuggled into my hair and squeezed me tight; I could see out the corner of my eye, Gena his girlfriend smiling. She knew that Zacky was one of my best friends; I couldn’t ever see him as anything different. It would be too weird. “So—the guys wanted me to tell you since they knew you wouldn’t exactly kill me dead if I did, that there isn’t any beer or alcohol of any sort here at the party, just for you.”

I managed a great believable smile and kissed his cheek again, ecstatically and stepped back. “That’s great, I’m really glad because I really am trying to stop. It’s just so hard.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Kal. I’ve been there before, but we all know that if you believe you can that it will happen, you can do this,” he said softly as he reached down and pressed a kiss on my forehead and then walked off with Gena to greet Gerard Way and his wife who had just walked in the front door.

Again, the pain was something I didn’t like to have sober, I needed something to numb it—that’s basically why I did what I did, was to numb what I felt. Now, I just wished something would burn down my throat taking away every other pain away just so I could feel that one sting as it settled in the pit of my stomach. But there wasn’t any alcohol, they done it just for me. I wish they weren’t so generous. I bit back the tears that threatened to spring free at any moment, call me childish but I was beginning to get my feelings hurt, it was like a child’s toy being taken away when they didn’t behave, it hurt their feelings and it left them empty handed. I wanted my toy back, I wanted my hands filled—I wanted no pain or hurt or misery, but I had to settle with all those feelings until I could—no, I promised Matt I would try and quit, this could be a start. If Jimmy could do it, and Brian could do it and Gerard could do it, I can. “Hey sweetheart,” I genuinely did smile when I heard Val’s kind voice lift through the now noisy living room. “Matt said he didn’t think you’d make it, it’s good to see you were able too.”

I frowned, but only for a moment, Matt had told his fiancé that I wasn’t coming so she wouldn’t know I was hung over. But what Matt didn’t comprehend is that when alcoholics’ get hung over, it last only until their coffee is made and drank. “I’m here, I was feeling a bit under the weather but I couldn’t miss Zacky’s birthday party. He’s my best friend—“ I paused and looked over to see Matt walking from across the room to stand beside Val. “Hey Matty, I’m here all better now. Can we talk for a second?”

“I’m just going to go fix the cake up, in about fifteen minutes we’ll be doing the cake so don’t take long,” Val smiled at both of us before she walked off to the kitchen, and I walked off to the bedroom with big brother in tow.

“You told Val that I wasn’t going to make it when you knew good and damn well that I wouldn’t miss Zacky’s birthday party for the world,” I pointed my finger at him in fury, but he seemed settled and levelheaded about it, he didn’t look pissed at any point. “Why would you do that?”

“Because if you were as tore up as you were this morning, I didn’t want you coming,” he crossed his arms and shook his head. “No one wants to see you like that, Kalia they still think of you as the little girl they used to share cookies with and watch play softball on Saturdays. We don’t want to believe you’re as screwed us as you are, even when it’s as obvious as could be.”