1

Another day, another bottle of whiskey. My friends, well one friend, keep telling me to quit. I don't listen to her. Trish Walker is a lot of things, but she is not the fucking boss of me. I will put into my body what I want to. I mean it's not like I'm doing hard drugs. She should be thankful about that. I throw the bottle in the trash can. It shatters. I groan loudly. "Goddamnit," I curse under my breath.

Suddenly my phone buzzes with the name on the screen reading "Trish Walker". Shit! If Trish finds out I downed another bottle of alcohol in one day, she will give me hell. I can't sound drunk. I try to compose myself as I hit answer on my severely cracked phone screen. "Hello," I say, my words clearly slurring. "Hey, Jess. Are you drunk?" Trish catches on right away. "Fuck. Uh, yeah, a little bit," I admit. It's a half truth. I'm drunk, but way more than a little bit. My alcohol tolerance is high, but in all honesty, I just drank two bottles of whiskey. Trish groans audibly. "Damn it Jess. I told you to stop drinking like that," Trish scolds me. "Come on! I don't do anything bad while I'm drunk," I say loudly. "Jess, just because you haven't done anything bad doesn't mean you won't do anything bad. You are a special person and you might hurt someone by mistake," Trish sounds concerned. I know that she is and I know why. Trish loves me like a sister. I was like a sister for many years after her stupid bitch of a mother took me in. "I promise that I will stop drinking this heavily," I say. I mean it, but honestly, I am so drunk I don't know if I will remember it. Unlikely. I usually remember most of what happens. "You called to tell me something?" I ask, suddenly remembering that Trish called me. "Uh, yeah," Trish says. "Well, what is it?" My voice is laced with minor irritation that she has not freaking told me what the hell she called for. "Did you hear about the new guy in town? He's." Trish's voice cuts off suddenly. I look at my phone. The battery has died. I'll never know what Trish was about to tell me. "Fuck!" I scream. I storm through my office and into my room to plug my phone into the wall. "Shit," I mutter as I drunkenly fumble with the cord.

When I finally plug it in, I decide that I am already next to my bed, so I lay down and after two seconds, I am out like a light. Trish's words drift away as I dream of other things.