Lynn lay right where she had mostly been for the last couple of days, in a heap in the center of her bed. When she wasn’t there she was grabbing a bite to eat in the kitchen or waking up on the bathroom floor, her head slumped against the wall and another empty bottle on its side by her feet. She’d been in a constant state of drunk since she got back home after burying her father and being rejected by her mother. On top of all the pain of losing her father right after he’d begun to forgive her, his funeral brought back memories of her brother as well. Without being able to lean on her only remaining family member, Lynn had returned home, only to realize that she didn’t have too many people to lean on in Harpoole Bay either. She’d retreated into herself and into the dark corners of her addiction, trying her best to bury every ounce of pain in the bottom of a bottle, no matter how futile it was. Her phone died days ago and she couldn’t be bothered to even plug it in. It was much better to be alone right now, curled up on her side, holding onto a bottle of tequila as if it was her life support. Her eyes were puffy but she’d thankfully stopped crying when the alcohol finally kicked in again, and now all she wanted to do was sleep -- but of course, luck was never on her side...
