The Bully

In the daze, I felt a figure approaching me. I waved my hand aimlessly, trying to tell him to get lost. But my head was so heavy, and my arms were weak. I waved a few times and eventually felt like I couldn't lift it anymore. I gave up and looked at the wine bottle before me. Only it could make me forget those jumbled-up thoughts and allow me to simply be happy.

Suddenly, a flawless hand took my wine bottle away. I glared unhappily at the person.

In reality, my brain, desensitized by alcohol, had long been unable to see anything clearly. In addition to the dim lights on the side of the bar, I could only see a flickering yellow light and a blurry figure that was sometimes far away and sometimes close.

"What are you doing? Give... Give that back to me!" I shouted at the figure, upset.