A Nightmare's Fate

Journey to Freedom

Chapter Twenty-three: Journey to Freedom

I waken to screams; but not from anyone else, but from myself. Sweat drips from my forehead and from the back of my head, I feel wetness from my pillow. Getting out of bed, I head downstairs to the kitchen to grab out the whiskey that I haven't drank for a while. Finding it underneath the sink, I don't bother getting a cup; I just drink out of the bottle.

            With each drop of alcohol that leaves itself on my tongue, my brain becomes more blurry than it already was when I was sober. I think of it as Kenton; the love of my life drowning himself inside my body. With each taste of the fluid heading down to my stomach, I feel like I'm spinning from the dream I had about Kenton being reincarnated into a bird. I wonder if it's real or if it's just my mind being crazy.

            I hit every wall in the kitchen, feeling nothing but numbness inside of my body from the alcohol. It's addictive like the yearning for Kenton. I need my fiancé in my life, but dreaming about him gives me that pleasure but isn't enough. I need him next to me, in reality instead of nightmares.

            Somehow I find myself in the living room, breaking the coffee table with a chair. I see glass scattered around the carpet and the chair a few feet near me with the leg piece broken that is on the other side of me. Heading to the computer, I push it off from its desk, allowing it to crack the screen and possibly breaking it from the inside. I scream as loud as I can to get all the rage out of my system, but once I stop, it isn't enough.

            Putting my hands in fists, I head towards the flat screen television and pound on it with force I didn't even know I had. I take off the pillows off the couch and move them around the room. Back to the kitchen table, I move off everything on it which includes papers, binders, glass on top of it, and let them all fall to the ground, allowing the glass to break. I take another chair and hit the table as much as I can in order to half it and after a few tries, it does as I wanted it to.

            Into the kitchen, I pull everything out of the fridge and onto the ground and repeat my routine from the refrigerator and the cabinets. When I find more liquor, I drink as much as there is which is three medium sized bottles of whiskey and drink them all to the last drop.

            From there, I head into my bedroom and rip everything off of the mattress and letting it all scatter around. I pull every picture off the wall and smash the frames until I can no longer notice the people anymore.

            Going into the bathroom, I take a razor and put on the hot water in the tub. Stripping down to where I'm wearing nothing, I wait until the bathtub is full of boiling liquid. Stepping inside, the feeling of the water caressing my body is nice. Once I'm fully inside, I take the razor and make cuts all over my body, but the painful sensation doesn't faze me as I feel once again, content.

            I don't understand why I broke everything, but for one, I am angry. Over what? I don't know. It's like a mystery I can't solve even though I caused it to happen. It's like a ghost haunting me; telling me to smash all that gets in my way, but I don't know why it wants me to break everything I come in contact with. But over rage and sadness, I can't deal with the loss of Kenton, so I suppose I put all of my feelings into my fists and just pound whatever I can. I even broke our pictures, which I would never do. But I did.

            I feel lost, alone, and disappointed in myself. I didn't stop Kenton from leaving out to war, which I should have. I knew that deep inside me, something bad was going to happen. Yet even though I knew it, I didn't try my hardest to get him to stay. And he left with a smile on his face before he drove away, like he thought he was going to come back, be he didn't. He promised me he would, but that promise was broken once I received that letter.