The Drazen World: Color Me Wicked (Kindle Worlds Novella) by A. R. Hadley

Author:A. R. Hadley [Hadley, A. R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B06WW9YKPJ
Publisher: Kindle Worlds
Published: 2017-02-22T00:00:00+00:00

NINE

I picked at the dirt under my fingernails. It may have been there for days. Or was it paint? He had left me, but I could still smell him, taste him.

I needed a drink.

I was on the couch, and the drink was on the floor — in the form of a 1.5-liter bottle of vodka.

I hadn't really started drinking as much as I had given in.

The reasons I kept opening another bottle didn't wash with me anymore. But it had become habit even if it was an undesirable one. Like meeting up with an enemy after years of not speaking as though a day had not passed, and the bottle and I could continue exactly where we had left off … in misery and in pain.

I looked for an answer at the bottom of my frenemy and felt pleased I could be myself without regard or worry for others. I refused to be a quitter even when what I did meant my destruction. Even if my soul would burn in hell.

I drank to stop the sacrifice, or maybe I drank to continue with the retribution.

I had been five or six or maybe seven days not sober since Jeremiah had left. And, in addition to being in a constant state of landing myself in an alcohol-induced coma, otherwise known as bliss, I also suffered — if I’d had the unfortunate horror of being born with a dick — from the worst case of blue balls known to man. With a glorious hard-on to match.

I had turned into Fiona. Pre-Elliot Fiona. I masturbated perpetually and drank straight from the bottle. Didn't need to hide it from myself or shield it from the fucking canvases leaning against my walls — the ones he had left behind. The colorful squares were everywhere, staring at me, making fun of me. The eyeballs on some of them, mine, could go fuck the hell off.

Work had phoned and phoned and phoned — in the beginning. They could all fuck the hell off too. Pierce hadn't called. It was Jimmy or Donna or Zax. Maybe the asshole had taken my advice. Maybe Pierce was gone, on an express train back to Prickville.

I raised the neck to my lips and tipped salvation into my mouth. It didn't burn anymore. It tasted like each year of my life I had spent before they’d all ganged up on me and begged me to turn over a new leaf.

The intervention, the retreats, had all been a waste of Daddy's precious money. A waste of existing in this town. They would all be calling me soon. My eldest sister, Margie, would be first. Then Sheila. Jonathan would call just to see why I wasn't running the bike shop he had invested in last June. Fuck him and his beautiful, one-life-number-two wife. I wore the cross. I dragged it along.

Me. Not him.

I had stood by my brother’s ex-wife, Jessica, and by Daddy, too.

Me. Not him.

Where had my painter gone? Where was he staying?

“Jeremiah,” I mumbled, thinking I heard a key in the lock.

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