Sinking feeling

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
Just writing a character... don't really expect a follow up with it, because there most likely wont be

Submitted: May 24, 2011

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Submitted: May 24, 2011

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A tear rolls down the side of my face as I take another swig. I pull the bottle from my mouth (and almost smash it on the cement.) I feel like I'm a cloud, or something, my head feels light and spinny. I get like this every night. As useall I'm alone when I do it. I see to attractive women pass me by. I try and whisle, but instead I take a stumble, and hit my head on a brick wall. Then I find myself puking on the ground. I stare at my bottle, it reads about one hundred proof. I look around me, and like I said before... Alone, Alone, Alone, Alone, Alone... I laugh, and say out what I finally feel, I know I feel it, It cuts through the whisky and everything.

"I Wanna Die."

I then Laugh again, I put the bottle to my lips and kiss it. The one thing that makes me alive. It's ironic because I'm useing it to kill myself. Funny right? The thing that I feel keeps me alive, is the thing that's killing me. Then out of the blue, (or should I say black?) I feel a deep rage. It glows as a spark of power that could lead to a roaring inferno of death and destruction.

I take a step forward, and just like everytime something worth happening to me happens, I stumble. Only diffrence is for once it isn't my fault. I turn my neck to view the person who has a death grip on me, and see her face. She is crying. She is familiar. She is beautiful, and I love her. with all of my being, I don't care that her breast are small. I don't care that she is pure. I don't care if she is engaged. Her face is sad. I look at her, and she lets me go. She then procedes in smacking me across my face. I look at her and smile. She starts to bawl again.

"You are prettier when you don't cry..." I tell her and she smacks me again, right as I finish my sentence. I hear her take a deep breath in and shout

"I don't care!" I go to kiss my sweet poison again. Then she smacks out of my hand. Now most people would be pissed, I still had half of it left. Not me. I smile and tell her "Thanks, I need to stop drinking." Once I say it she looks at me in cold eyes for what feels like for ever, most would be uncomfertable, hell when she gives this look to her fieonce he shudders up. I love it. I love her eye's. Then she lightens up, even still I love them, If anything I love them more when they have the warmth from the moon light. My heart is made of wood, and her eye's set it alight. her eye's look into my dark soul.

"Come on, I'll drive you home." we walk to her car I then, before we got in, feel something odd. I turn and punch a man with a knife in the head. then my hand shoots to the knife, and throw it at the man behind her. he drops his gun. They run. Cowards. "this is why we can't be together..." I tell her. she smile's and looks at me, she says something I don't catch. she starts to drive me home.

"Thanks," I say to her. she glances over for about a fraction of a second. I don't know anything any more.


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