I'm sitting alone in the room that was assigned to me. I can't help but feel so small, so desperate in this place. I hate myself. This place just makes it worse. It takes a large amount of effort to get up and just shower --- which I just did. The towel around me provides little to no warmth but I'm not worried about that. My fingers clutch at the nearly empty wine bottle that rests between my thin knees. What a waste. I have become my mother and there is nothing that can redeem me now. I'm not good enough for redemption. The only one that comes close to understanding me is Charles. Everyone else here can go to Hell. But he, Charlies, ( @xcvicr ) He understands the pain I feel. The unending heartache that wraps my soul in barbed wire. My head nods down, hair falling in my face. I'm close to blacking out again. I really wish I cared what happened to me. No one stops for the mean girl because no one asks why she's mean. My unbalanced hand lifts the bottle to my dry lips, taking in the sharp taste of red wine. It's bitter and sweet. It reminds of him. I've slipped up since being here. I said his name. Even now, I don't know if I can say it. I fought so hard for nothing --- I am nothing. Am I supposed to live out the rest of my life in this forsaken place? Am I going to die alone? I wanted to go down in history books as this historical woman who did great things. Instead, I'm an alcoholic. I've lost the only love worth fighting for, so I'll drown out the pain. I feel the towel slip from around my waist and as I go to grab it I knock the wine bottle over. Wine slowly seeps into the white towel. It reminds me of blood. It cues the low burst of sobbing to come from my stained lips. I lay down where I am and close my eyes because this is what life is now.
