Create A Surreptitious Move

16 || Grief

I eye the bottle of alcohol on the table, I could really use a glass of that right about now. I pick up the bottle, ready to inspect what type of alcohol it is but as soon as it touches my fingers realisation hits me.

He told me he was an alcoholic.

"Wait, why do you have this?" I ask concerned. "Did you-" I'm about to ask him if he drank any of it when he cuts me off.

"No." He says. "But I want to."

"How long have you been sober?" I ask.

"Three and a half years." I nod in reply.

"I could tell you not to do it but in the end it's not going to make a difference what I say. I could take this, drain it down the sink but if your adamant about drinking it's not going to stop you. It has to be a choice you make yourself."

"Finally, someone who gets it."

"You made a choice to be sober three and a half years ago. Are you really going to throw all of your progress away?" I ask. "You know how this goes. One drink becomes two becomes ten and suddenly you can't stop. You have to fight to simply exist and it's a different kind of pain. It's unbearable. Is a temporary relief really worth it in the long run? Is one bad day really worth the full recovery stage? No. At the end of the day it's your choice and whichever road you go down I'll be by your side but trust me the path of least resistance is a whole lot easier."

He let's my words sit with him for a second before he makes a choice. He stands up from his seat on his bed and walks over to the table beside me.

He picks up the bottle and just looks at it for a second, his mind fighting a battle against itself. He unscrews the lid and I watch closely. Just as I think he's going to ignore my words and drink it he walks off with it into the bathroom.

The sound of the alcohol going down the drain fills the room and I let out a breath of relief.

He walks back in the room and places the empty bottle on the table before slumping down on the chair opposite me.

"The way you spoke was as though you'd lived through it. Have you had an alcohol addiction too?" He asks.

"Not alcohol." I state.

"Then what?" He asks gently.

"I don't want to talk about it, not today."

"I get the feeling today's something of significance to you. You seem to have something on your mind."

"My brother, Sidney."

"I didn't know you have a brother." He says.

"He died four years ago today."

"Oh." He replies. "Do you want to tell me about him?" He asks and I nod.

I take a deep breath. I breathe in, breath through, breathe deep, breath out.

"I don't even know where to start." I say. "He was the best big brother I could've ever asked for. Even though at times we fought, he was always there for me. He'd always protect me, shelter me as much as he could. He was always the first to say how proud he was of me. I didn't realise just how much I had until it was gone. I just wish I could tell him how much he means to me."

"I'm sure he already knew. By the sound of things you two were close and he loved you just as much as you loved him." He says. "Do you have any pictures you want to show me?" He asks and a smile makes it's way onto my face. I nod enthusiastically and he pulls his chair next to mine.

I show him some baby photos of me and Sidney and he comments on how cute we were.

I pull up a few photos from the day he graduated high school. My favourite is the one of him in his blue cap and gown, his blonde hair peeking out of the front. His arm is tossed over my shoulder and his hand is in a rock symbol. He's pulling a funny face and I'm side eying him with a grin on my face, trying not to laugh at his childish behaviour.