An Alcoholic, A Companion and A Truth

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

This was an assessment I had produced during school. It is based off of a poem called "Metho Drinker".

The wave of threatening clouds rolled in as the man headed towards the abandoned grounds only shelter. A heavy breeze from the clouds spat down upon the park and its dwellers. Untrimmed brush filled the gap between me and the man who staggered. Clouds grew denser, hiding the golden sun and soon the grey shadows shrouded the sky with a dark white. Tattered long drench coat tails floundered and thrashed, slowly being coated in drifting white speckles. Looking up to the sky, squinted almond eyes blinked, watching the snow before the man scrambled for the shelter faster than he had been. He curled up under the shelter shivering lightly and gazing upon the brush, with his knees tucked to his chest as the fog of his breath scattered. As his dulled yet once wise eyes settled upon mine, his hardened face melted; and fine pursed lips stretched. "Apple!" he cried out. Although I did not respond, the outstretched arm and slender hand reached for me.

My pelt shaggy, wiry hair tangled and gripped at the branches of the shrub. Wide set ears, thick based and well-tuned, latched at my cranium as a snake of fur tunnelled its way between my thighs. Frosty breath, heated and heavy, rattled in the cold air as a heaving chest struggled but soon the tattered coat embraced me amidst its warmth and scrawny arms pulled me from the snow. A trail of dragged paws sailed through the sleet like trenches from a war zone. I was a skeleton, malnourished with sunken ribs, no stomach but the outline of my spine. It didn’t matter,  as long as master was safe.

Apple,” he sobbed quietly as his arms cuddled my neck with one hand resting on my chest and the other rubbing my cheek. “It’s alright girl, I’m …” a wheezy and heavy set of alcohol reeking coughs escaped. “I’m okay.” He pressed his face into the comfort of my coat.

You used to be such an energetic child,” he whispered “but, you’ll always be the apple of my eye.” And that I was, “You were so small. How could I have let this happen to us, to you?” his voice cracked and his salty tears soaked into my coat as he sat holding me on his lap. “My wife, my children, all dead because I couldn’t save them” He almost shouted as he clenched his fingers held my fur in clumps. The marching tears soldiered on and my dry nose pressed into his white wrinkled cheek absorbing a tear. My mind flashed back to the old memories, - Margo was smiling; her thin, yet wide lips separated revealing pearly white cubes; little Josephina giggling as she always had clung like a monkey to Dannie’s side.

It’s all my fault.” He had pulled a small picture that was torn and old from his coat pocket. Unravelling the image, he showed it - me at his side, his arm around Margo’s waist, Dannie standing in front, with Jo sitting on her waist and arms wrapped around her. All were smiling and happy but master interrupted as he cried out, “I killed them; I let them die!” Sorrow was etched in his voice. As he thrashed out, the empty brown bagged bottle hit a wooden post and shattered. I jolted at the sound and of course he’d grabbed the second bottle he had had with him and pressed its glassy rim to his mouth. The warm liquid drizzled down his chin and throat onto my pelt as I shifted and stretched.

Old bones crackled and popped as the heavy blast of the storm upset the shelter and its rusted hinges. The snow topped the trees like ice cream cones and the brush beat back and forth in confusion as the blizzard grew heavier. Not a possum in sight, not even a single person in the open. A tumbling umbrella was flung about; obviously no one cared enough to catch it. We huddled together. Master’s breathing was heavy and the white walls circling us grew thicker; I was afraid of what would happen to master.

He continued his tirade of anger and sorrow filled stories. The blazing anger was visible in the depths of his eyes as I gazed at him with a soft generous face. “That fire! My stupidity, I didn’t help them!” He pulled me in more tightly: the stream-like tears froze as they slid down his face. My own coat became a series of icicles and his grip became less. The anger in his eyes changed to pain as he shook his head slowly, closed his eyes and began to sob once again. “I saw it; I could have helped them…” His sentence trailed off as he shifted and sat up to look at me. My eyes opened a little to look at him. Eventually, I dozed off; that’s what it felt like. My mind wandered back to that unfortunate night.

I was smaller than I was now. My tail jolting fast in a relay back and forth with front paws on a white window sill looking down at master getting in the car. He couldn’t hear my high pitch bark. I could smell an odd scent, and wandered to mistress’s door, nosed my way out of the gap it presented and bounded down the spiral steps to the kitchen. I barked at the foggy room and snapped my jaws at the dancing orange flames. The strange creature danced on the roof, walls and any object it could reach. Filling the room and seeping through some cracks that led to the room above I heard a cry. The front door was blocked and so was the back. Jo was scrambling across the upstairs hall as I ran back up to see what was wrong.

Dannie pushed past me, making me stumble as she scooped up Jo and rushed for Margo’s room. They were coughing and rushing about as I sneezed and shook out my smoked coated fur. I ran to the window and stood up again, barking and yapping. Master looked at me but left. I jumped up and then stopped. I ran back downstairs almost sliding into the angry orange demon. I ran for the small room that was full of stored boxes and forgot about the others. I was afraid and unsure what master had done as I scrambled out of a small broken vent in the wall that led outside. I stopped at the mailbox by the driveway and began snapping my jaws at the grey clouds surrounding the house.

Margo was trying to open the windows; they’d always been hard to open and only master could get them. Josephina was crying and coughing heavily; poor Dannie struggled to hold her as she tried covering her mouth with her shirt. I heard neighbours rushing to help but the demon seemed unstoppable as it swallowed the entire house. Half way down the road as I tried to find master to help I heard the screaming and shouting; my heart was racing and my movements were fast and determined. I never found master that day and returned home by nightfall. The fire truck had stopped the evil creature and I ran inside the broken front door, nose to the ground, tail low. I searched every room but there wasn’t a sign of anyone. They had left me.

I eventually sunk back to reality and looked to master one last time. He was coughing and crying again. “I killed them! I let them die!” He shook his head though he could hardly move; the cold was seeping through every vein, making it harder to breathe and keep warm, I didn’t understand. He was sculling the pure alcohol that he knew wasn’t good for him. My nose kissed his cheek and I figured it was time to sleep as he rested his head, dropped the bottle and his breathing slowed. I pressed into him and settled into a deep sleep. The morning would find us at peace.

 

By Cassandra Rose

- Based from the Poem: Metho Drinker


Submitted: December 03, 2014

© Copyright 2021 KittyBlahHunter. All rights reserved.

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