Ariel's POV
Some people thrive for pain. They need it to survive. They need the little reminders in their everyday life to know that they are alive. Drinking too much on a Friday night and then waking up the next morning with a pounding headache or the growing amount of people harming themselves for one reason or another.
So maybe it's not so weird that here I am on a Thursday afternoon, in a seedy bar trying to drink away all my memories, the good and the bad.
As I order another shot of the most expensive liquor in this shitty bar, smiling as I think about all the drinking I can do and how I don't give a shit about all the money I am about to spend on my headache tomorrow.
March the 3rd.
It is the one day of the year where life decides to fuck up my life even more, for the past 10 years without fail something happens.
It all started when I was 18 and I met the love of my life, which sounds good right? You're wrong, he turned out to have a girlfriend which I only found out the following Valentine's day the next year when I saw them out together and her with an engagement ring on her finger.
I down the shot that is put in front of me and once again I start the torturous journey of reliving this painful day, every single painful second.
3rd of March 2006
I don't even know what to do with myself anymore, do I let him know that I know or do I give him a chance to explain why he had his arm around another girl who was wearing an engagement ring? I thought we were the ones that would last that long and head in that direction, I thought I would be the one wearing his ring.
Was I that naive to believe that a guy as perfect as him could fall for me?
I hear a knock on my door and I jump in my seat as my hands start shaking and heart is beating out of my chest, beating towards the man that is standing outside my door.
I quickly make my way to the door which doesn't take long since I live in a small apartment that is probably as big as someones bathroom. I open the door quickly before I lose my composure and can't help but smile as I am met with the smiling face of my boyfriend Xavier.
His smiling blue eyes and shaggy black hair, a striking combination that never fails to leave me breathless. "Hey babe, I got you some flowers." He greets me with a kiss and then the sweet aroma of red roses greets me as I look at the large bouquet in his hands.
With heavy hands I take it from him and turn to walk into the living room where I am silent as I replace the last batch of sunflowers he gave me a week ago.
I was in my own little world and didn't notice him sitting behind me on the sofa and a weird sound escapes my lips as his hands go to my hips and pull me down, back into his comfortable lap.
He doesn't have the most muscular body since he only started working out last year, a little after I met him but as his arms go around me and shield me in his false embrace I cannot bring myself to relax like always and he must have noticed because he starts placing kisses along my neck, which is something he does to calm me down or relax me.
"What did you do on Valentines day?" I ask before he can say or do anything else to distract me, I should have done this the moment I saw them but I was a wimp and waited 2 and a half weeks.
"I told you, I had to visit some family out of town but I'll make it up to you on our next date." He replies smoothly and if I had not seen them with my own eyes I would have believed him.
"We're not going to have another date, Xavier. " I said as a tear rolled down my face and the shock on his face seemed genuine.
Those were the last words I ever said to him, however, I'm not this fucked up because my first boyfriend cheated on me. It just kept happening year after year, first it was him and then the next year my great-grandmother died and the year after that my granddad as well; just year after year on this exact same date something bad happens to me.
I realised what a fucked up day it was after 4 years and I went from having a boyfriend and no dead relatives to having nearly no one. The next year my dad was diagnosed with cancer, he is still struggling.
I mean what kind of person has this much hate being thrown at them? I thought I was a nice person and never did anything to harm anyone on purpose, but it seems like the world doesn't like me at all, in fact, it hates me so much that here I am on my 28th birthday and have no one to spend it with.
In case you were wondering, this year it has already happened. My dad is right now in surgery as he relapsed this morning, falling into a coma and I'm not sure he is going to wake up from this one.
Luckily my mum is the only one left who has perfect health, even I was diagnosed with diabetes last year.
I mean it's not the end of the world but people really underestimate the illness and what it can do, I am doing ok at the moment but I know the older I get that the more damage it is going to do.
I was supposed to be here to forget everything but it seems like the alcohol is making all these memories even more vivid, as if I needed the help with my overactive imagination.
"One more." I order and in less than a minute there is another shot in front of me, inviting me to welcome the burn of the alcohol and the consequences that follow.
I down that shot and squint my eyes as the uncomfortable burn travels through me, all my memories flashing before my eyes as if my head was a computer and my life is a sad depressing PowerPoint.
The way he kissed her with a smile on his face, his arms around her waist. Them walking together in sync as if nothing else in the world matters but their moments together.
Waking up to the call from my mum as she cries down the phone, telling me that there were some complications with my granddads surgery.
Holding my great- grandmothers frail hand in my own as she takes her last breath and her eyes close as she finally gets to rest.
Me visiting my parents house as they're on holiday, looking forward to seeing my dog Elza. Only to find her in my old bed still and unmoving.
Watching my dad come out to the hospital room with rare tears in his eyes as my mother holds onto him for dear life, the diagnosis clear in his eyes.
Waking up in a hospital room with my parents teary eyes staring at me, moving their lips but nothing is coming out. Being frozen and not being able to lift my hands and wipe away their tears, stuck to that bed for the next 3 months after the crash not able to feel anything but the emotional pain and suffering that time brings.
I am broken out of my pity party as the glasses from in front of me are taken away and a tall glass of water with a white pill next to it is placed at the same place.
"I think maybe you should slow down on the drinks sweetheart." Says the blurry face in front of me and I open my mouth to talk back but my words just won't come together.
"Drink the aspirin and you won't feel as shit in the morning." He advises again and maybe it was my drunk brain or maybe it was the way he seemed to have a white aura around him, but I find myself swallowing the pill and then drink half the glass of water.
"Why do you care if I feel shit in the morning?" I manage to ask through my tied tongue.
"I don't like seeing beautiful women like you, all alone here in a bar getting drunk. I don't see anyone here that is going to pick you up and make sure you get home safely." He gives me a worried smile which is weird for me since I have been taking care of myself for so long now that even my parents don't help me or meddle in my life, they have their own problems to deal with.
"Who is picking me up is none of your business." I reply strongly and I must be really drunk because I think he mumbles something under his breath but for the life of me I have no idea what he said.
"Come on." He said holding his hand out to me, having come around the bar so he is now standing right next to my chair. I take his hand since I don't really trust my limbs at the moment, and I was right as I try and get down but end up completely misjudging the distance between the chair and the floor.
My legs feel stiff and heavy as they struggle to support me, even though they are not the things holding me up. The blurry man in front of me is holding me against him as we start moving through the busy crowd and when it takes me more than 5 tries to get up one step, he picks me up and helps carry me somewhere.
There are warning bells going off in my head as I try and think of the situation that I have put myself into. I am in the arms of a complete stranger, being carried up away from a seedy bar which is probably the better option because it has so many people down there.
"Where are you taking me?" I slur as I hold on to his soft shirt which smells like pure heaven, or at least what I think it would smell like. I can't help but giggle at the silly thoughts and I start to imagine the tall wall of muscle that is currently holding me as an angel with wings and glitter on his abs, and knowing what I am feeling right now, I know he has rock hard abs.
"To sleep off the alcohol." He replies and because of our current position his voice was close to my ear and it sends shivers down my spine with how delicious it is.
"I'm not that drunk." I pout as I poke his cheek and linger my fingers there as I feel how his skin is both smooth and rough.
He doesn't say anything and I continue making weird sounds and running my hands along his shoulders and arms to his face and lips. Now that I am closer to him I can see his face clearly and he looks just like an angel.
With his soft blonde hair, light blue eyes and his rosy pink lips he looks like the definition of a dream come true, my dream come true.
"You have to let go of me, I can't lie down with you." He whispers loudly as he tries to lay me down on the couch but my arms are around his shoulders and I'm not letting go of my dream, I don't want to wake up and be back to my dull and depressing life.
I want to be happy.
"Stay with me." I say quietly as I refuse to let go of him, I refuse to go back to being exhausted with my feelings and having to push and fake every single emotion.
"I'll never let you go." He replies just as quietly and if I was sober right now his words might have had a different effect on me but I find myself smiling dreamily at him and lean forward to press a sloppy but heartfelt kiss on his plump lips.
"You look like an angel." I mumble and touch his face once again as he has a slight smirk as well as a frown on his beautiful face.
"What if I told you I am an angel?" He asks and I laugh at his joke but when he doesn't smile back I drop my arms and stare at him with drunk suspicion.
"Prove it." I say on a whim as I sit up, suddenly not feeling the full effects of all the alcohol coursing through my veins.
He takes a step back while taking off his shirt and in no way am I complaining when his porcelain skin is on full display for my horny brain, what better way to forget your sorrow than plenty of alcohol and indulging in feelings a lot more pleasurable than self loathing.
I was more focused on his abs than what else was going on, because when I looked up and focused on him more I found out that I had to look up further than before. That may be because he is floating in the middle of the living room with massive white feather wings spread out behind him.
There is no way that I am still drunk, I am more sober than I have ever been in my life.
"Believe me now?" He asks with a smile but I cannot form any words in my head to describe what I'm feeling or what I should say right now.
"I think I definitely need to get some sleep." I mumble and lay back on the couch, trying to close my eyes but they just won't listen to me as they stay glued onto the man that is just staying up in thin air while almost glowing white.
"You've had a rough couple of years." He smiles as he flies over to me, strangely I don't want to move back away from him but I stay right where I am and just wait to see what he'll do next.
"You're still going to be here when I wake up?" I find myself asking.
"I'm always just a couple of steps away." He smiles and leaves a soothing kiss on my forehead which strangely makes me even more tired and feel as though my body is falling asleep but my brain is trailing behind.
"Just rest sweetheart, I'll always be here for you." Were the words I hear him whisper before I give in to the weird pull and close my eyes.
"Good night Ariel, I love you my angel." Are words that I don't know if I dreamt off or were gently whispered in my ear, but I welcome them anyway.