-𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐔𝐒-

𝟏𝟒

—〝𝐈'𝐌 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃. 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆'𝐒 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃.〞—

...

THE door clicked shut behind him, you were left alone with the echoes of unanswered questions, the silence of the room amplifying the turmoil within your mind. Each moment stretched out, time slowing to a crawl as you grappled with the tangled web of emotions that threatened to consume you.

You sat there, the unfinished glass of water still sitting in your hand. Suspending in a limbo of confusion, your thoughts swirling like leaves caught in a whirlwind.

The air felt thick with unspoken words, heavy with the weight of unresolved tension. Questions gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, demanding answers that seemed to dance just out of reach.

But not too out of reach.

You could almost taste the acrid tang of cheap liquor on your tongue as you reminisced—the jovial camaraderie of folks, the playful dares exchanged amidst raucous laughter.

The room pulsed with energy, the air thick with anticipation as you accepted the challenge: a daring feat to consume an entire liter of alcohol in one reckless gulp.

But as the liquid fire seared your throat and settled uneasily in your stomach, urgency gripped you. You stumbled towards the bathroom, the world spinning dizzily around you. The porcelain sanctuary beckoned, a beacon of relief in your moment of need.

With a violent lurch, your body rebelled, expelling its contents into the waiting embrace of the toilet bowl. Waves of nausea wracked your frame, each heave a painful reminder of your folly.

Amidst the chaos of retching and the clamor of your racing thoughts, clarity emerged, a realization dawning upon you.

Oh..

Oh no..

Taking back yourself to memory lane, You could almost feel those tears cascading down your cheeks again, each droplet a testament to the storm raging within.

Clutching onto the bathroom door for support, your heart races with fear and uncertainty.

"I-I'm scared,"

"I'm so scared for them.."

Your drunken form stammered, your voice quivering as you struggle to articulate your overwhelming emotions while speaking to the only person in the restroom with you.

Their presence feels like a lifeline in the midst of chaos, their arm enfolding you in a cocoon of comfort. Their touch, a gentle caress against your trembling back, they weren't saying anything however.

As their comforting embrace envelops you, you find solace in their presence, allowing yourself to be vulnerable, to share the depths of your fears. With trembling words, you confide in them, the weight of your concerns pressing heavily upon your chest.

"I don't know what to do," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the sound of your racing heartbeat. "I'm terrified that she'll take them away from Dad. She's been talking about it, and I can't bear the thought of them being dragged into her shit."

Coming back to yourself, you tightly gripped your cup before setting it on your coffee table. Your arm felt heavy as you let it fall onto your side, closing your eyes. As a child, your relationship with your mother was fraught with disappointment and neglect. From a young age, you yearned for her affection, craving the warmth of a mother's love that always seemed just out of reach. But no matter how hard you tried to please her, to earn her approval, it was never enough.