1. It Was All a Dream

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Chapter One: It Was All a Dream

I shoot upward from my laying position, my body slick with a layer of sweat. My hair sticks to my forehead and I swing my legs out from under the covers, sighing as the cool air meets my extremely warm body.

I had dreamt of her again. It was our whole story; it was as if the vision was on a loop-playing over and over-in my head, leaving my head spinning and my breath shallow.

I stumble to the kitchen grabbing my bottle of vodka and taking a swig. My head pounds from a killer hangover, but as soon as the cool alcohol meets my tongue, it dims to a dull throb. I've gotten used to the hangovers, most nights I don't remember falling asleep, I just can't handle her being away from me.

With the bottle still grasped tightly in my hands I shuffle to the couch, however, I stop abruptly when a vision plays in my head: it was our first kiss. She was sitting on the couch, working diligently on some sort of homework and I was bored. I hit her gently with the pillow and it turned into a giant pillow fight.

Towards the end of the fight, she slipped on a pillow and fell, dragging me down on top of her. There, at that moment, we shared our first kiss.

I sigh at the recollection and take another swig of the liquor. Turning, my eyes set on other things that reminds me of her. Like every Sunday, I would make her breakfast. I would set alarms an hour earlier than she usually woke up just so that we could eat breakfast at the little, circular table.

I sink to my knees, letting the bottle fall and spill all over the floor, though my head is too numb to care. I place my head in my hands and sob. Why did she have to leave?

After I composed of myself, I call Jack and he picks up after a few rings.

"Hello?" I hear through the receiver. I almost jump at the sound of his voice. I haven't talked to him in weeks-I haven't spoken to anyone in weeks.

"Jack!" I shout. The line goes silent and I rub the back of my neck and rock on my heals. "Um...I haven't talked to you in a while." I explain, trying not to sound too needy for a friend right now.

"Yeah, it has." He chuckles awkwardly. "So, uh... How have you been?" I shrug.

"I could be better, but I guess I'm doing ok. How about yo-" His voice cracks through the line, interrupting me.

"Alex, cut to the chase. I know your still not okay-I can hear it in your voice. So tell me, why did you really call me?" I hang up. I may be quiet, but I am not weak. Tears well up in my eyes again and I frantically wipe them away. I don't even know why I called Jack in the first place. I knew he would worry; now I've got him on my tail.

I keep trying to distract myself from her by over drinking to the point of complete confusion. So many things are broken in this house-it's not home without her here.

Suddenly, thunder cracks in the sky shaking everything around and sending a shiver down my spine. Lighting comes through my window and I stagger up to my bedroom again with a new bottle of alcohol. Settling on my bed, I take a generous sip from the bottle and fall to sleep.
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     Four missed calls, seven text messages, and two voicemails from Jack. Why does he even care? With my mind still hazy from the alcohol, I pick up my phone and dial his number. He picks up within the first ring.

     "Alex!" Jack shouts. "Where the hell have you been?" I furrow my eyebrows, blinking slowly and breathing out heavily.

     "I fell asleep." I say and I can hear him sigh from the other line.

     "Do you even know what day it is?" He asks me. I open my mouth to say something, but I stop myself when I realize I have no clue what day it is, or the time. I run my fingers through my hair.

     "Uh..."

     "That's exactly what I thought." Jack says bitterly. "Alex, you're scaring me." I sigh.

     "That's what everyone keeps saying. I'm not doing anything." I explain.

     "Exactly, you're not doing anything. You haven't left your home-"  He says home and I almost break down right then; this isn't home, she is home- "in weeks, no one can get in touch with you, and God knows what you're doing in there." I think back to all the misses phone calls from friends and family and the frantic knocking on my front door I ignored. "For all we know you haven't eaten, you could be slowly killing yourself, and I know that you have been drinking yourself into oblivion." He's right, every detail is correct.

     "Jack..." I trail off.

     "What?" He snaps back at me.

     "I'm fine." My eyes get heavy and my words slur, this increases when I take another full swig in my mouth and swallow the fiery liquid.

     "Are you drunk?" He asks. I sigh and rub the back of my neck.

     "Yeah, a little." I admit chuckling a bit. He groans.

     "I'm coming over there," I sober up a bit and spring upwards. "And I don't care what you try to say or do to stop me. I'm coming."

     "Jack, no please." I plead. He can't see me; I can't see him.

     "Alex, you need help, and I'm going to help you."

     "No." I declare swinging my legs out from under the covers and attempting to stand. I lean against the desk in my room and drag myself to the door. "No, Jack. Please don't do this."

     It was too late. He had already hung up. I sigh and lean all my weight against the wall, putting my hand angrily on my forehead to lower the stress and the killer headache I've had. I don't need his help; I don't need anyone's help.
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so that's chapter one. i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i'm enjoying writing it.

     if you keep up with this story, i will continue writing it.

     ~Mick

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