Watch Me Fade

I kept drinking the vodka like it was a lifeline, and it wasn’t too long before I started to feel the effects of everything. A floating sensation took hold of me, and feeling my eyes grow heavy, I decided to surrender. I shifted so I could lay down, the small park bench offering a nice escape from the dirt below it, and looked up at the tangle of trees and sky above me. I thought about everything, all the good and the bad. The trees danced as the alcohol caused a bad wave of the spins.

When the sun started setting I felt a sense of loss. I wished that I could stay here forever, with nothing but the animals who didn’t leave their homes until the sun went down. I thought about how no one would notice if I fell asleep here and never woke up. I wished things didn’t feel so desolate and painful all the time, and that maybe someday soon, things would be different. I smiled, alcohol was never good with sadness. Makes you remember how things really are, and makes you wish for things to be better.

I bundled myself up in my sweater and remembered times that were glowing with happiness. Friends and family, holidays and laughter. That was the last thing I thought about before I fell asleep. But even the thoughts of laughter and happiness couldn’t keep the nightmares at bay; I woke up screaming and dripping with sweat. I didn’t know what time it was, but the park bench was killing my back and I had a headache that was making my head feel swollen. I tried to sit up, and almost rolled off the bench to prevent vomiting on myself.

After throwing up and positioning myself more comfortably on the bench I assessed the scene. My head was pounding, and was still a bit foggy from all the alcohol, my arms and legs felt heavy, and I was in desperate need of some water. I looked around; the sky was a light blue, which meant the sun would probably rise soon. I felt a rise of panic in my chest; I had stayed in the park all night.
I quickly pulled my phone out of my pocket to check the time. Five in the morning. I checked my notifications. Twelve missed calls, ten text messages, and twelve voicemails, all from Jeremiah. My heart quickly sank, but fluttered at the same time. I thought my mother would be furious about me being gone all night; I thought she would’ve noticed. It hurt to think that she didn’t realize I wasn’t home, but the sadness was slightly drowned out by the thoughtfulness of Jeremiah.

The kindness stayed with me for a few moments before I started to feel sick again, my stomach was not happy with me. I started to cry, thinking about all of this, and how my mother doesn’t even care. Wrapping my arms around myself, I rocked back and forth, trying to control my emotions. I hated feeling so alone, so lost. I wish my mother had come looking for me, just so I didn’t have to feel this.

A long sob ripped through me, and I realized that the sun had risen a bit more. I could see my surroundings better now, and my eye caught the rather empty bottle of vodka. I picked it up, and felt my stomach flip in protest, but I drank it anyways. Three large swigs and my stomach was still screaming. I felt like my insides were on fire and the after taste was so overwhelming. I did everything in my power to avoid throwing up, and took a deep breath.

I went to rub my face and realized I was still crying. I sighed, and wiped away my tears. The alcohol was working; I was starting to not care. I sat there for a little longer, and then realized there had to be something better to do with my time. I gathered up all of my things, and stood up. Taking a minute to collect myself and make sure I could walk properly, I set off towards my house.
The vodka breakfast had made the walk home impressively short, and I was at my front door, digging for my keys in no time. I opened the door with caution, feeling pretty buzzed, I was nervous about my mother being home. I slid through the door and closed it silently and tip toed into the living room, nothing. Mom wasn’t home. The disappointment I may have had wasn’t strong enough to overcome the numbing powers of alcohol, so I walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge. I knew that if I ate something my buzz wouldn’t last much longer, but I was starving.

The fridge was empty except for a cheap bottle of wine, some cheese slices, half a loaf of bread, a couple bottles of water, and a case of soda. I decided against food, grabbed a water, and walked back to the couch. I left all the lights off, made myself cozy under a large fluffy blanket, and started checking my messages. They all consisted of Jeremiah anxiously explaining how worried he was that I wasn’t answering my phone. Suddenly feeling guilty, I started dialing his number, but my phone started ringing before I could finish.