She gazed towards a brilliant ocean, fingers outlining the rim of her vessel of euphoria.
To her lips – the chalice was lifted. It glimmered in the morning sunlight, dazzling her eyes before the moisture enveloped her tongue.
She moans deep in her throat as liquid fire ignites her chest; drowning her endless anguish in the glass.
“Once more to my lips, I feel the heat.” She choked out hoarsely, ill with misuse. “I’m playing a game with Bacchus. A game I yearn to win.”
She poured another… another once more.
The Golden Ocean drowned her distress; it flared in flames, burning her lungs. Inducing chemicals to dull her fragile mind.
She remembered his cruel red eyes, shining at her from the darkness. He had ruined all her chances of being normal. Of loving someone normal. Now she was a broken creature. Nobody would ever want her again.
She took another – took another shot. Her balance was swaying, her sanity wavered, and the pain still lay heavily in her heart.
Drown it, drown it, she drowned it out. Tossed back the shots and inhaled the smoke.
She noticed she had collapsed to the floor, her body was unresponsive.
Glassy stared. Bottle in hand. Tears in eyes. Chest on fire.
“Bacchus’ game.” She croaked. A game she played a long time ago. It hadn’t helped then. She didn’t think it would help now. But people always fall back on past habits. Her especially. Bad things always seemed to follow her.
Her arm gathered strength to raise the bottle to her shuddering lips.
The Golden Ocean trickled its way down the canal of her throat. She spluttered and choked but persisted in drinking until the ocean was no more.
An abrupt pain focused her eyes on him.
The bottle dropped shattering at her side. Her skin was scattered with tiny pinnacles of colour.
She mused. ‘Such pretty shards of glass.’
His reflection was eminent in them.
She reached to him as sudden shots of pain surged through her. If only she could reach just a little more… Her arm failed her.
‘Pretty shards of glass.’ Her mind repeated.
She saw oceans of gold, and seas of red.
Drowning her body and never her pain.
She reached again for him, strength evaporated.
Tears glistened in her red rimmed eyes, mind full of memories of the time spent with the man before her. He had seemed so sincere. Why had she been so stupid?
Hands fell dejectedly to her side.
Her head rolled to the side. Eyes closed.
He sneered at the small girl who he had spent the last month tearing apart. Grey eyes shone in the morning light. His platinum hair shook with undisguised rage at her behavior. How could one sink so low?
He spoke, teeth clenched in disgust at the girl who had made his life shine with happiness for such a brief time of his life.
He turned and walked away, blonde hair swaying with every step.
“Bacchus always wins.”