Chapter 219
Blake's POV
My head has been pounding for more than twenty four hours. I think it's a migraine. My eyes, as red as blood, are twitching every now and then and it's fucking annoying. My hands are shaking like weak tree branches, I can barely hold anything in my hands without dropping it. But I need alcohol, to calm myself down.
I haven't slept for weeks! I have been drinking excessively that sometimes I even forget where I am. This is the life that I have been living for the last two years.
One word to describe my life right now: Damaged.
Every single bottle of whatever that may keep me drunk, that crosses my eye, I down it without any hesitation. Gin, vodka, whiskey, rum, name them all. I started off with wine from my family's company but that didn't do it for me. Wine didn't make me feel drunk as I wanted to be. I needed something stronger and as a result, I became more aggressive, agitated and livid at no one in particular. But I am pretty sure I've been angry with myself. No doubt.
The other day when I saw Kyrah, I felt like my world was going to change, I thought that she was ready to come back to me. Seems like she was only just passing by. I recall vividly seeing her shocked but beautiful face when she saw me. It seemed like she's been doing better without me, the glow that she always possessed was still around her and her eyes were as gorgeous as I can remember. She seemed happy. Unlike me.
Even though she spoke to me calmly for a moment, I could tell that she was still mad at me, especially when she slapped the crap out of me. If only she had done that and ran into my arms. Unfortunately she didn't. Being without her has been horrible. My life has been trash. A huge pile of shit honestly.
As the memories cross my mind, I stare down at the glass of water my mom placed in front of me. It took me a while to call Carla 'mom', but I am used to it now. I bet she's more than disappointed with the way I have been acting for the last two years.
Slowly I push the glass of water across the top of the island to the direction she's standing at.
"I don't want any water," I say blankly and sniffle as I wink rapidly to try and moisturize my dry eyes. The veins on my temples are protruding and I can feel my pulse when I touch the spots.
She's staring at me with those eyes full of pity again.
"Blake, I beg you. Just drink it. Even if it's just one glass. Look at you, you're dehydrated. You could collapse any moment. You need to drink some water, please," she begs as she pushes the glass back to me and I sigh heavily.
"I'm not a child anymore. You can't force me to do what I don't want, okay? I'll be going out for a couple of drinks tonight, I'll be back later, don't wait up for me," I say as I begin walking out of the kitchen but she runs and stands in front of me.
"But you said you'd spend some time with me today and atleast not have anything alcoholic," she says. I can see the hurt written all over her lovely face.
"I was drunk when I told you that," I say and walk past her. Seconds later, I hear her sobbing and I stop on my tracks and turn around.
"Why can't you just be a good son to me? I have always treated you right but these days you don't even look at me twice in a day–" I angrily cut her off.
"It's because I am ashamed! I am ashamed of who I have become. I am not the same Blake you knew. You know very well that I haven't been the same man ever since..."
"Since Kyrah left you. I know. But you have to let go. It's been two years and counting and you still go to bed and sulk over it like a little boy. I hate seeing you like this. Why can't you understand that there's more to life than just one girl, huh? There are plenty of girls out there dying to be with a young man like you," she blurts out and her words sting like a bee.
"Well that's because you'll never understand what I am going through and you have no idea what the hell is going on deep within me. You may pour out all the drinks in this house but you can't stop me from going to get a couple of drinks at the bar," I speak rather harshly than intended and she takes a step back. Her hands covering her mouth when she gasps.
"You don't even respect me anymore. I just don't get it." She sniffles.
"Maybe if you had told me that you were my mother when I was still young, we wouldn't be here right now. But you chose otherwise, so you better swallow the bitter pill," I find myself saying and since I know she'll start sobbing again, I rush to the front door and slam it shut and leave.
"Fuck!" I curse as I brush a hand over my face and stand arms akimbo outside the door.
I need to get drunk. Very fucking drunk. Abso-fucking-lutely hammered!
I jump into my car and drive off knowing that Bill, my new bartender friend, will drive me home in the wee hours of the night when I can barely feel my body or see anything at all.
***
The familiar barely lit bar, full of cigarette smoke all over and the sweet smell of liquor, is where I am right now. As I enter the place, my eyes scan from corner to corner as I spot people enjoying their drinks, others are playing pool, the staff are walking around doing what they're supposed to do and other people are having fun on the dance floor, ladies shaking their derrieres like their lives depend on it.
The booming music is so loud that I can barely hear myself clear my throat. People are busy trying to talk over the loud music so that they can hear each other. From afar, I can already smell stale beer and body oduor.
From the very first day I came to this joint, nothing changes. People are always here to make merry, others end up in fights. As of now, a lady rushes past me crying like a toddler while her boyfriend runs after her. When I finally find an empty bar stool at the counter, Bill appears while he's cleaning a glass with a white towel. His oddly long hair is sliding down his shoulders as usual.
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