Half Empty (689 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesRating: 1.64 on 12 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Grownasskid (View user info) at 2005-09-07 14:07:50 EDT
There is a glass in front of me. The glass is half empty of a brown liquid, two ice cubes float in the mix, waiting to melt and become part of the whole. I lift the glass and lean my head back, determined to never let those ice cubes become part of the poison that I am so readily pouring down my throat. As I feel the burn and feel the fire scorch a path down my neck, memories come flying back to me, the kind of memories that ride on the back of a glass of bourbon, the kind of memories that ride on a glass half empty. A glass half empty.....
I am back in college. My professor is walking around the room, holding a glass. The glass is half full of water, and the teacher wastes no time in pointing this out to us. "This glass is either half full or half empty" the professor says to us, making some point about how the glass is a metaphor for how we see our lives. I roll my eyes and scoff at this professor for using some old cliché as a tool to teach us about the human psyche. "Maybe next he'll tell us a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush" I mutter under my breath to no one in particular. I hear a soft giggle coming from the person next to me. I turn my head to see who was intruding on my silent sarcasm. The girl next to me is smiling at me, still laughing softly at my remark.....
I take the now empty glass (save the two ice cubes) and throw it against the wall. The sound of what was a once whole thing breaking into a thousand pieces is Beethoven. The memories that came with the rest of the bourbon are replaced almost instantly by my anger. I don't want to go for a walk down memory lane; that is not why I'm here. I look over at the clock (11:45 pm) and at the half empty bottle of bourbon on my coffee table. "There are still a few slugs in there" I think to myself as my mind drifts in a swamp of alcohol induced memories. I look at the revolver next to the bottle, and think to myself "There's only one slug in there that I'm going to need."
The room is spinning. I need to calk down, I need to breathe. I lay my head back as I sit in my recliner, my big green overstuffed recliner that I have had for a million years. I close my eyes. I open my eyes. The room is spinning out of my control. Memories begin to drift back into foreground of my mind. I try to push them out, too dizzy. I try to stand. I am sitting again. Memories come like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Like fireworks...
I am 12 years old. It is the fourth of July and I am at a family reunion. The sun has just set. I see my cousins playing with sparklers, my uncles and aunts sitting at picnic tables. Each of the adults has a beer. I want to taste some. I see my father by himself, standing away from the tables and the children playing. Fireworks begin to go off. My family stops and looks at the sky, adults and children looking at the sky with the same look of wonder and amusement on their faces. My father does not look. I go to my father, ask him what is wrong. He looks at me. He has a beer in hand; there are tears in his eyes. He looks down to me and smiles. He speaks slowly, like each of his words is covered in syrup. "One day Nick, you're going to break the cycle. You're going to be the one, and I am going to be so proud of you." I do not know what he means, I tell him. He smiles, and walks to the picnic tables. I see him take a new beer from a cooler at one of the tables. He looks to the sky....
I snap back to the present just in time to run to the bathroom. I rush to the toilet and throw up 2 hours of pain and remorse. Once the fire in my throat is gone, I try to stand, only to find that I am able to. The room has set itself straight again, I feel much better. I walk back to the living room, and sit in my chair. In front of me, there is a gun and a bottle. The bottle is half empty, and so is the gun, but I don't think I'll need much more than one shot for what I need to do. I pick up the bottle and finish it in three big swallows. I pick up the gun and feel its weight in my hand. My mind, which was moments ago racing with a thousand little thoughts a moment ago, is now suddenly clear with the one big thought I have in my hand. Memories start to flow back into my head. I let them come; knowing that remembering is all I can do now. Memories of the girl from class, and the dates we went on, memories of smiles and kisses and lovemaking. I remember it all with the gun in my hand. I remember....
....going back to her room after the party. I remember the laughing, the touching. I remember the kisses, her skin, soft and smooth, against mine. She says to me "we'd better stop" but I don't stop. I keep kissing her, taking off her pants. She tells me to stop, I can't. I remember her yelling, hitting me begging me to stop, to leave. I don't stop, I keep going, unaware of the hitting, the yelling, the act. My body is not under my mind's control. My mind isn't even in the room. My mind is drowned somewhere in the gallons of alcohol I drank at the party. All that remains is my body, doing what it wants. There are no more screams now, only tears, only pain. She asks why, and cries....
...I slam the gun to my temple and close my eyes. The word of my father come flying back to me. "One day Nick, you're going to break the cycle." You were right dad. I pull the trigger.
...Police report that the suicide victim, Nicholas Jefferson, was to be tried for the rape of a former classmate. Reports say that the only things in Jefferson's apartment were an empty bottle of bourbon and a note that read "I'm sorry, and I hope I made you proud."
User Reviews
Submitted by MrSparkle847 (user info) at 2005-09-08 08:59:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
The
Submitted by Merlina (user info) at 2005-09-08 08:47:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
you wouldn't have pulled the trigger if the glass had been half full..
Submitted by sinna (user info) at 2005-09-08 03:19:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice.
Submitted by JustPassingBy (user info) at 2005-09-07 16:02:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Loved it
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2005-09-07 15:23:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Grownasskid (user info) at 2005-09-07 15:09:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
i love the link
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-09-07 15:07:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
http://www.despair.com/pessimistmug.html
Submitted by WildcatMcGee (user info) at 2005-09-07 14:46:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I liked it. Reminded me of things I've written before. Well done.
http://www.ubersite.com/m/57752
http://www.ubersite.com/m/57147
http://www.ubersite.com/m/62855
Submitted by sideshow (user info) at 2005-09-07 14:31:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Very good. I liked it.
Submitted by DudeThatsBOSH (user info) at 2005-09-07 14:30:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Punching someone in the neck is a good way to start a conversation or seal a deal.
That said, this was good.
Submitted by leilani (user info) at 2005-09-07 14:21:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
pretty awesome.
Submitted by c1ndy (user info) at 2005-09-07 14:19:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment