»part 20 » twenty-seven bones

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"I can't drown my demons, they know how to swim...."


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Did you know there's a difference between a drunk and an alcoholic?

Before I went to rehab, I honestly didn't know that there was a difference between the two. I just thought there were people who were addicted to alcohol and those who weren't. While I was in treatment, we spent a whole day going over the various differences between the two. It was fucking enthralling.

A drunk is simply just a person who's just that. Drunk. They don't have to be addicted or dependent on the sinful drink. They're people who can maintain a job, go to school, have a family. They're the people who simply know how to have fun without the commitment.

An alcoholic – well an alcoholic is the one who falls in love despite the consequences. When shit gets to hectic or too loud, they turn to the one thing that blocks out the craziness in hopes of silence. To them, alcohol is their filthy lover. The one they keep hidden in the dark, away from watchful eyes and judgmental mouths. They love so deeply even though they know it's destroying their lives. They're afraid to be sober because being without their love is pure agony.

Because then they're really alone.

With their demons.

Or in my case, with their addicts.

I quickly grabbed the drunk's hand from across the bar and gripped tightly, "Did you know that the bones in a hand make up half of the bones in the human body? There's over 27 bones in the human hand, including your fingers and wrist bones."

The drunk stared at me with bloodshot eyes and a dropped jaw. He was in shock. I caught him trying to reach over the bar to steal a shot I left sitting on the counter while I ran to the back. As I held onto his hand with a strong grip, everyone around me came to a dull silence. I could feel everyone's eyes watching my next move.

He continued to stare at me, shocked.

"In fact," I quickly wrapped my fingers around his index finger and his thumb, while applying pressure, "Your thumb and index finger are the most vital tools on your hand, they make up more than eighty percent of your hands function."

I stared him dead in the eye as he watched me babble like a crazy woman.

"You know what that means?" I asked in a dull tone while pushing back on his fingers, earning a scream from him, "Without them, you'd be fucked."

I continued to push back on his fingers until they were practically kissing the top of his hand while he screamed every curse wold at me like I was the devil.

"If I find you reaching over the bar again, I will rip your fucking fingers off your hand with pleasure." I said through gritted teeth.

Out of oblivion, Vee rushed over behind me and grabbed my wrist. She pulled back my hand, forcing me to release the old mans wrist. He pulled back his hand towards his chest and seethed in pain as he looked at me with death.

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