Control

Prologue

You can make assumptions on how you will handle something when you are only playing at speculation. How would you react to a life and death situation? Would you run into a burning building to save a trapped baby? Or would you stand on the sidelines and hope for someone else to make the effort? Would you crawl through the grass during a war with a traumatic injury, your survival instinct stronger than your fear? Would you keep your faith, whatever it may be, and be optimistic and strong when faced with a death sentence?

Everyone would like to think they would do the more honourable thing. They would step up to the plate and do the right, the moral, the brave thing. We all want to think better of ourselves, possibly better than the self we truly are. But when faced with the decision, how you finally do react is anyone‟s guess.

I never thought I would be the type to turn to the bottle as a means to an end. I had never been a big drinker, vowing to never force my family to watch my self destruction.

But for now, if even for just the next few days, I wanted my escape from what was my reality. I opened the bottle of scotch, tipping the opening to my lips. Taking a gulp, the searing liquid scorched my throat.

And I felt alive.