He clutched the nearly-empty bottle in his hands as he sat, slumped on the couch. He just couldn’t seem to drink enough to get her out of his head. His world swirled around him. If you would have asked him his name right now, he wasn’t sure he could tell you. But she… he remembered. The alcohol did nothing to wash the memories of her out or him. Man did he try. And failed.
Images of how it happened flashed through his mind. Her screams, shattered glass, screaming sirens-
Squeezing his eyes shut against the memory, he stared at the bottle in his hands. At the dreaded poison that aided in killing her. The thought was enough to make him want to hurl the bottle against the wall. Watch it shatter like his life did when he was sober enough to register that she was gone.
That’s when he drowned himself in his alcohol. He needed to numb his emotions. To forget her existence. And most of, to forget his existence. God, he hated himself. He loved her so much. And because of him, she was gone. All because of the poison he had-IS- consuming, that replaced the blood in his veins. The poison that he still continued to welcome into his body. It ended her life and it was working on his too. It ate him alive. Yet not as much as his guilt did. His regret consumed him, more powerful than the alcohol, preventing him from forgetting about her.
God what a sore sight he must be to his daughter. Oh my God, his daughter! He had one right? Where was she?
He struggled to think of the last time he had talked to her. The last time he’s even seen her. He could slightly remember her saying something to him. He never responded to her. Or any of the times she tried to talk to him after that.
He vaguely remembered her trying to take the bottle out of his hands. He could remember her tears and the agony on his face. He hadn’t realized them then. How had he respond to her doing that?
Oh God! Horrified, he remembered striking her. In his memory, he remembered her falling, looking up at him with wide eyes and terror etched across her face.
How long ago was this? Where was she? He had to find her…
He struggled to his feet, before collapsing onto the ground. His thoughts clouded. Amy…He had to get to her…
He tried to stand again. He swayed, vision blackening, before ending up, once again, on the floor.
He fell on top of his nearly empty bottle. It shattered beneath him. He lay there in a pool of beer and his own poison. He slowly drifted into unconsciousness.
Fortunately, he never got a chance to remember the day he lost his daughter too.