[ti]Open[/ti]My luck, my love, my god Nov 7, 2017 21:07:55 GMT -7
Post by Jake R. Parker on Nov 7, 2017 21:07:55 GMT -7
Falling like ashes to the ground
Hoping my feelings, they would drown
There was something deep inside him that felt broken and irreparable. Jake's hands held the glass of whiskey loosely, his elbows on the counter of the bar and his body leaning. Some days were harder than others. He could go days without thinking about it, thinking about the way his parents both died in front of his eyes before he even turned sixteen. Thinking about the way Ingrid looked when he first saw her so badly beaten she would have died if she didn't get help. Thinking about the women and children who died inside the factory in District 8. Thinking about the little boy he tried to help, only to be shot in the abdomen by the boy who turned out to be rebel. Thinking about Aurelia and how no matter how much he loved her, she couldn't fix him. It wasn't her job, but he thought if he could just be happy with her, all the pain would go away.
Pain didn't work like that, he realized. He was full of self loathing, and took a swig of his drink. It didn't matter how happy he was, happiness doesn't erase pain. It just makes life a little bearable. But the pain is still there and it still creeps up right when he least expected it. He left Aurelia in bed, unable to fall asleep. Jake thought perhaps some fresh air could do him good, he could take a walk and after a few minutes, go back to bed before Aurelia even realized he'd left. But the minutes passed and so did the streets and somehow, Jake found himself at the bar.
He was three sheets to the wind within an hour, but he wasn't like some of these other drunks that got loud, or violent, or crazy. Jake was quiet, tending to his drink even though he didn't need anymore. If he tried to stand up, he'd probably fall straight down to the floor. Maybe if he drank enough, the pain would go away. He knew that wasn't true either. He'd gotten piss drunk before to where he had no recollection of the previous night. And still the pain was there, it always came back no matter what. He drank his way to the bottom of the bottle, whored his way through every woman he could charm. Nothing, no one, not even Aurelia could fix the broken thing inside him.