Labryrinth

    I couldn’t breathe. Every breath I was inhaling felt like frigid water was filling every inch of my lungs. My hands were trembling. I can’t believe it’s ending this way. I can’t believe it's ending this way. This was my nadir moment. But it wasn’t always this way, there was the time where I was considered the zealot. The one who seemed to edify others, and to be the one who had it all. But then it happened. The one aberration that made me falter, and lose it all. The worst part of it all was not that it came crashing down like the Hindenburg, but rather slowly deteriorated before my eyes.

    I had always been a maladroit person, and had stumbled around from time and time again, but I was never worse than when I would be stumbling from the alcohol the night before. I remember when I first started pressing my lips to the bottle instead of hers after she told me I needed to stop, and needed help. But I couldn’t. Soon it became a hackneyed thing and it came as naturally to me as a baby taking its first gasp of air. I wanted to stop because I knew the baleful effects it was having on me, but it was an addiction. Every morning I’d come to school and I would smuggle the bottle in my bag. Keeping still was the hardest. I couldn’t focus on anything but the burning in the back of my throat and mind, urging me to take just one sip. I was starting to become barren with everything. I used to be the captain of the football team, but I couldn’t focus on the plays that my coach would call to me, all I could focus on was the alcohol calling my name. I used to answer every question in class. I was always inquisitive, participative, and vociferous, but when it started to take over, I became obdurate to the teacher and didn’t even raise my hand anymore.

    When I’d come home, I’d make a mad dash for the hidden stash in my closet, and I’d relax my trepidation and thoughts with the cool liquor. When I first started drinking, the alcohol would burn my throat and send reverberations throughout my body, but soon, it started to feel like I was drinking water. I’d lie on my bed until my mother would announce that dinner was ready, and I would meet them in the kitchen. I used to tell my family about practice and how my calculus test went, but then I stopped. I used to sing songs with my sister after we were done cleaning the dishes, but soon everything she would say became irritating and I couldn’t help but be cacophonous towards her, my best friend. As I lay trying to fall asleep with the buzz being stimulated through every part of my body, I questioned why. Why did I let myself become this person? This haughty and obdurate person? Why did I let myself fall this far? This person caught in a mess. Why can’t I get out of this endless labyrinth? This was a typical day in my downward spiral, but that’s not where it’s ending. The beginning of the end began on a Friday night.

    Jason's party was guaranteed to have liquor so I decided that would be better than being at home shouting at Abigail. As soon as I got there I was drawn to the kitchen, like a moth is drawn to light. Everything was strategically stacked so everyone could freely take whatever was in the cornucopia of bottles. I had grabbed the largest bottle by the neck and instantly began chugging from the mouth of the clear glass. My mind kept telling me that the lips of the bottle were sweeter than hers ever were, but then I saw her there with her lips on some other guy. My mind was gone, I was spinning. I stumbled out the front doors and struggled to find my car. My heart was beating surprisingly fast considering how shredded it became after seeing her with him. I had put my keys in the ignition and I had started my car. I pulled away from the curb and struggled with placing my foot on the gas. My head was spinning and my car was swaying. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t think.

And then I saw it. I saw him. I tried to slam on my breaks, but I heard the smack of body against metal before I could stop. I fumbled for the door handle and fell out of my car. I tried running to the front where my smashed headlights were, but I couldn’t see where I was going. Not because of the alcohol, but because of my tears. I could barely see him, but I could tell he was no older than my ten year old sister. He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t breathing. I dropped to my knees and screamed for help. I felt it all at once. My emotions hit me harder than my car hit the boy. I no longer felt bad for myself after everything that happened to me, but I felt the weight of his dead body on my heart. I was always iconoclastic towards God, and thought that he always destroyed me from taking her away from me and giving her to someone else, but now all I want is for Him to forgive me for taking this boy away from someone else.

I’m still sobbing as I sit on the pavement. I can’t breathe. Every breath I’m inhaling feels like frigid water is filling every inch of my lungs. My hands are trembling. I can’t believe it’s ending this way. I can’t believe his life has to end this way.