White Lightning

I could hear his lovely voice in the living room, mumbling nonsense as he slurred his words together. I took a look at the kitchen clock and let out a sigh, it was only six o’clock and he was already inebriated. I let out a sigh as I set down a clean dish. This was getting ridiculous to say the least; I immersed my hands in the soapy suds and began to wash the dishes again, trying to ignore Steve’s mumbling.

“Steve you gotta stop drinking all this garbage, or else you won’t be around much longer.” I said gloomily to no-one in particular. It was a morbid thought, thinking of someone you loved liked a lot as a rotting corpse. I shook that thought from my mind. Just because it was a potential possibility of what could happen if he continued to drink didn’t mean that I needed to dwell on it. My fingertips hit the bottom of the sink as I let out a sigh of relief, no more dishes. Or at least no more dishes for tonight. I pulled the plug out and set it on the side of the sink. I rinsed my hands with cool water before shutting off the tap.

He was still mumbling nonsense in the living room, what a waste of his lovely voice. “You’re going to kill yourself if you keep drinking you idiot.” I muttered under my breath, he needed help he really did, but the first part in getting help was admitting that you needed help. Something Steve just couldn’t see, he didn’t think he had a problem, he thought it was completely normal to drink all day until he passed out.

“Risa, I need moree.” Steve’s voice called to me as I rolled my eyes, no. No way in hell he was getting more, not now, not tomorrow, not ever. He was not allowed to have anymore alcohol until he admitted that he had a problem and got that fixed because I refused to do. I refused to stand by and watch him slowly drink himself in oblivion.

“No.” I said out loud, surprising myself with the unintended force I had out into that single solitary word. In the other room Steve kept mumbling to himself, words that were so slurred together they didn’t make sense, they came out as nonsense, just a useless collection of letters and sounds.

I could hear him in the other room as he got up and stumbled around, I flinched as I heard a crashing noise, hopefully Steve hadn’t taken anything too valuable out...

“I said I needed more.” He slurred as stood at the doorway, it looked like he was more or less holding onto the frame for dear life.

“And I said no.” I replied firmly, “now Steve can you please sit down before you fall or something? I don’t want you to get hurt.” I told him, trying my hardest to remain calm. Trying my hardest not to grab his shoulders and shake him while yelling “why can’t you see what you’re doing to yourself? Why can’t you see that you’re slowly killing yourself?” Steve stared at me for a moment and I held his gaze before he stumbled to a nearby chair and sat down.

“Now do I get more?” He said, he sounded rather impatient, I wonder why.

“No, you don’t more now, or later, or the rest of the day.” I told him as he stared at me, unmoving, unblinking for a moment, like he was in shock with the words I had just spoken.

“Why not?” He said, or rather demanded as I sighed and brushed a strand of hair out my face, this was going to be the difficult part, getting him to admit it, and getting him to listen to what I had to say.

“Because this is ridiculous Steven Clark, because the more you drink, the closer you get to killing yourself, the closer you get to hurting everyone you love and everyone who loves you.” I told him quietly as he gave me a blank look, not understanding the words I was saying and the point I was trying to get across.

“Risa, I’m fine, I know what I’m doing.” He told me as I shook my head furiously, that was not Steve Clark talking. That was not the man that I had fallen in love with talking, that was someone different, that was the man that he had become, that was the man that came out after he had been drinking, the man that had gotten him put on a six month leave of absence from Def Leppard. The man that he seemed to enjoy being, when he had alcohol in him he wasn’t the same, he was a monster, a terrible monster that only had one thing on his mind and that was more alcohol and where he could get it. I looked at him for a moment before I shook my head and walked into the bathroom.

“Don’t you dare move, I swear if I come back and you’ve moved an inch.” I yelled as I dug through the bathroom drawer, trying to find the mirror. No luck, I slammed that drawer shut and moved onto the bottom one finding the mirror and pulling it out before slamming the drawer shut with an equal amount of force. “I swear to god if the son of a bitch moved...” I mumbled to myself as I went back to the kitchen. Steve was still sitting in the chair from when I had left and from how he looked it didn’t seem as though he had moved.

“Look.” I told him as I held the mirror up in front of his face; he looked away, as if there was something interesting about the kitchen floor all of a sudden. “No, you look at the mirror Steve, look at it.” I said quietly as I slipped my free hand under his chin and turned his head.

“Look at yourself Steve, can you honestly look at yourself and say you know what you’re doing? Can you look in the mirror and say out loud that you’re in full control of yourself?” I asked quietly, I could see Steve’s eyes as he looked at himself in the mirror, I could see as he examined his greasy blonde hair from the lack of showers, and the stubble that was starting to grown on his chin. I could see as he stared at himself, no at what he had become, at his sunken eyes and creases on his face that hadn’t been there a month ago. He looked at me for a moment before his eyes settled back on the mirror.

“Does that look like someone who knows what they’re doing?” I asked after a few moments of silence. He didn’t answer right away; his hands grasped the mirror handle as he took it for himself and ran his free hand over the stubble. “Does that look like someone who knows what they’re doing for fuck’s sake?” I asked again this time louder, he didn’t speak, he just shook his head. No it didn’t, I took a deep breath, now we were making an improvement, not a huge one but an improvement none-the-less. “You stay right here.” I told him quietly as he nodded his head and continued to examine himself. I took a few steps away from him before opening the cupboard and looking at the numerous bottles of alcohol that were sitting there, begging Steve to drink them, every single one of them. I reached out and took the nearest one; it was some brand of tequila and took two steps towards the sink, unscrewing the cap from the bottle.

“No!” I heard Steve say from behind me, he sounded rather upset, and I don’t blame him.

“Steve honey, we need to get rid of this.” I told him as I turned to him; he was shaking his head furiously. “Steve, we need to get rid of this, just for a little while.” I said, “is that okay? We don’t need to get rid of it all tonight, how about just two bottles? Can you live without two bottles?” I asked using a gentle tone with him. He paused for a moment, to let the words sink in I guess before he shook his head.

“No, we need to keep it all.” He said as I put the bottle down beside the sink. “We need to keep it all.” He repeated firmly, trying to convince himself more than me.

“Steve, don’t need to keep it all, we can keep some of it but not all. We’ll get rid of just this bottle and you get to keep the rest of it.” I said soothingly then waited patiently for his reaction.

“Just that bottle, not the rest. We have to keep the rest.” He told me. “We need to keep the rest, just that bottle can go.” He said as I nodded my head then picked up the bottle that I had just put down. I slowly poured the bottle out, watching as the brown liquid disappeared forever down the drain, at least thaws was one less bottle that I had to worry about.

“See Steve? I just got rid of that one bottle, the rest are all safe in the cupboard.” I said as I put the empty bottle down before walking back and closing the cupboard.

“All safe, in the cupboard.” He repeated as I nodded my head before pulling up a chair and sitting down next to him, I was actually amazed that he had managed to stay sitting for five minutes, and he wasn’t demanding alcohol.

“Exactly all safe,” I murmured to him as I took the mirror and set it down gently on the wooden kitchen table behind us. “Steve, I know this is a hard question but I need you to answer it....for me.” I said looking up and into his eyes. “Do you want to get better?” I asked after a second. He blinked once, twice, three times then grew motionless, thinking about the question I had asked. “Do you want to get better?” I repeated, trying to make sure that he was understanding what I was saying. We waited a minute in silence except for the ticking of the clock before he ever so slightly tilted his head. I stared at him for a second, was that classified as a nod? Or had he just taken another sudden interest in the floor.

“Was that a yes?” I asked after another moment had passed and Steve had still given no answer. We waited another moment in silence before he bobbed his head up and down.

Yes. Yes? Was he saying that he wanted to get better? If he was saying that he wanted to get better was he serious? Or did he think that if he said yes it would increase his chances of getting a drink.

“Steve I know this is also going to be very hard for you to say but I’m asking if you could say out loud the phrase “I would like to get better” if that’s possible.” I said quietly as Steve lifted his head as looked me in the eye. He licked his chapped lips and looked around before sighing.

“I...want.....to...get.......better.” He croaked haltingly looking at me, as I just stared at him. He had said it, he had said something that I had been trying to get him to stay for weeks and Joe and the rest of Def Leppard had trying to get him to say for months if not longer.

“That’s good Steve, that’s great that you said that, now I think it would be best if you went and slept on the couch okay?” I said then waited the few seconds that it took Steve to process what I was saying, he nodded his head and then slowly got up and began to walk to the couch alone. I bit my lip as I watched him stumble towards the couch, he could do it, he could make it that far. I watched as he sat down and then proceeded to shoot a glance at me before looking away. I waited a few moments and watched as he lay down on the couch before I picked up the empty bottle of alcohol I had recently disposed of and moved it to where the trash would be taken out. I shot a glance at Steve who was lying down before I reached for the phone and picked it up, dialling in a familiar number and pressing it to my ear hearing it ring once before someone picked up.

“Hello?” I heard the male voice speak into the phone; I walked closer to the back of the kitchen, not wanting Steve to hear what I was up too, even though chances were he was already out.

“Hi Joe its Rita,” I said quietly, I heard Joe suck in a deep breath, like he was expecting bad news. “It’s nothing like that, Steve’s fine, he’s sleeping on the couch.” I quickly assured him before I continued. “I talked to him earlier tonight and he said.....he said he wanted help.” I said quietly, I didn’t need to get into detail right now; he just needed to know what Steve had said.

“Rita luv, we’ve got through this before.” Joe told me with a sigh as I rolled my eyes. “Steve doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore, the alcohol’s taken over, he’s not himself and he’s too far gone to get any help. We’ve already tried to get him into rehab and that went horrible.” He said, taking in another deep breath as I cut him off.

“No Joe, you don’t understand, he said it, he said he wanted to get better, he let pour out a full bottle of alcohol.” I said as the phone line went dead. “He’s not too far gone Joe, he’s still there, under all that crap, Steve is still there...somewhere, we gotta find him though, we have to get rid of the crap, especially that alcohol.” I said as Joe sighed.

“Rita.-“He started.

“Joe, he’s there, I know he is, and if you were in his position he wouldn’t give up on you and you know that. This isn’t fair to Steve and I don’t care if you believe me or not. Steven Clark is still alive under all that shit, he’s still there and I’ll prove it, I’ll find him and I’ll get him out of that.” I told him firmly, his side of the phone went dead for a second.

“Fine.” He said, caving in after a few moments. “But I’m telling you Rita he’s gone already, he made that choice long ago, now it’s late and I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” He told me before hanging up. I shook my head as I put the phone back on that stand.

“Well he’s making a different choice now and I’ll support him through it no matter what.” I said out loud, speaking to no-one in particular before I left the kitchen and went and sat down on one of the chairs in the living room, watching Steve sleep. This was going to be a long night, the first of many, but I was ready to give away every bit of sleep if it meant I could keep Steve alive one more day. Oh yes, this was going to be a extremely long and painful night, but who knew, maybe in the distant future it would pay off.