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Post by Administrator on Dec 6, 2011 15:46:09 GMT -5
Pull up a chair at the tables!
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Post by Christina Mathers on Jan 19, 2012 15:17:29 GMT -5
It's been awhile since she'd felt like this. The pub was loud and lively, but to her there was only cold silence. And though the place was very much crowded, she felt alone. The tall glass in front of her was still full of the sweet brown liquid. Sarsaparilla. She didn't want alcohol. She didn't want to be numb. She wanted to believe she hadn't lost anything; that she was still capable of feeling something, anything. But the more she sipped, the more she craved the familiar feeling of being on top where nothing or no one could touch her. She thrived off of that feeling and it consumed her. Now, the only thing she felt was miserable. Being sober sucked.
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