SUGGESTED BY 'early-sunsets' Gerard is an alcoholic and his brother, Mikey, is sick of his drunken ways. He gives him a lot of leaflets and support groups to attend, after some motherly persuasion ...
Gerard sat at the small wooden table glaring down at many leaflets that his brother had just handed him.
Next to them, a wonderful concoction of Vodka and Rum, his favourite.
He couldn’t really understand why Mikey would give him these, he didn’t have a drinking problem. He just liked his occasional, daily drink. Perfectly normal.
So what if sometimes his life takes a turn for the worse which causes him to drink a fraction more? That’s normal.
When life throws you a bad hand, you fix it by doing something that makes you happy and that’s precisely what Gerard does, he drinks his troubles away.
He staggered up from his place at the table, crashing in to the wall as he passed. He slowly climbed the stairs that lead to his room, ready to drift off into the land of sleep.
That’s what he needed now. Sleep, he hadn’t slept in God knows how many hours. He doesn’t need sleep when the drinks there, he feels alive when he swigs the alcohol down his throat even though it always burns the more he drinks. He only takes at a sign to keep on drinking, to not stop.
He crashed through his bedroom door, not bothering to turn the light on. It only took him three, heavy footed steps to reach the comfortable haven of his bed.
He lay there lifelessly, face down on his pillow. He could barely breathe through the fabric but he didn’t care, he just wanted to sleep. Sleep the rest of his troubles away until tomorrow, and then the drink would take over and leave his mind oblivious to all around him.
He fell asleep that morning, to the sound of passing cars and the spitting of bacon which his mother was cooking.
He awoke late that night, around seven. The longest he’d ever slept.
He sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes and trying to focus them on the objects enclosed in his small, cupboard like room. He flicked his bed-side lamp on to reveal the poster covered walls and cream carpet.
He scoped the room further, looking for that ‘o so sweet liquid, the liquid his life depended on. The liquid he loved and hated at the same time.
A small half full bottle lay on his cluttered desk next to one of his many sketch pads and some brightly coloured leaflets.
He loved to draw, it was always a dream of his to become an artist. He can’t though, not with all the problems he has in his life.
He picked up the bottle, removing the cap and taking a long swig. The liquid instantly burned his throat.
Gerard heard a quiet knock at his door, he shouted a reply, allowing the hidden person to emerge from the other side.
The door slowly opened to reveal a small, skinny boy. He was Gerard’s younger brother, Mikey, he was 15.
“Gee?” his shy little voice squeaked, barely able to be heard.
“Uh huh?” Gerard replied, taking another swig of his cherished vodka bottle.
“Did you even look at them?” Mikey gestured over to the colourful leaflets on his desk, frowning. He already knew the answer.
“I’ll read them when I sober up, I promise Mikes”
“That’s just it though huh? You’re never gonna sober up..”
“I will, honest”
“No you won’t, all you care about is when your next drink will be. You never ever ask how I’m doing, how my day was because all you care about is drinking your fucking booze”
“No Gee, just fuck off. Fine, I give up, keep drinking, just don’t expect me to comfort you or even talk to you because you’ve hurt me too much with your broken promises..” With that, Mikey left the room. Tears streaming down his face.
Gerard didn’t have a drinking problem.
He had a fucking drinking obsession.
And he needs help.
But he won’t get it, because Gerard doesn't admit he needs help.
He'll help himself.