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A Way Out
I look at the pile of tablets on the table. It’s so much smaller now. Mind you, the bottle is also half empty. Or should that be half full? I can’t decide. I didn’t plan this. I don’t know that I even knew it was on the cards this morning.
I usually just get on with things, keep quiet, and try to be strong. I guess it all got too much, cause the next thing I know, I’m sat here, chasing pills with vodka. I don’t even like vodka. I suppose I just couldn’t face another day like today.
I feel a bit woozy now, but nowhere near woozy enough. I know that because I can still hear his voice in my head. He left five hours ago. I should be asleep, but I can’t. He might come back. How am I supposed to relax when I’m not safe.
I don’t remember when I last had a full, decent night’s sleep. I don’t know that I deserve it anyway. He told me that I didn’t, but I don’t know if I should believe him or not.
The pile’s getting smaller now…. The bottle’s emptier.. Nearly done.. Just a few more to go. Then he won’t come anymore, and I won’t have to deal with any of it..
Mum thinks I’m being a drama queen. She keeps telling me to be nicer to ‘Uncle Dave’, but she’s blind to it. She doesn’t see it how I do. She just doesn’t know…
