She skipped a chance to get free alcohol at an acquaintance's party. She felt she would have felt more awkward than entertained. She had dinner out instead. But she felt old and felt the need to take in something other than her regular soda or juice to confirm her youth. She had two glasses of Margarita - one frozen, one on the rocks. Before that night she didn't even know the difference between the two kinds... actually, before that night she didn't even know that there were kinds. But she chugged that bitter-sour drink and found herself enjoying it. Before that night, she had never went out of her way to get a drink. But she knew she would be having more nights like that... with more empty glasses.

She screamed and cried on the way home. She said almost everything... everything she had kept inside her  for the past months. She didn't think twice about what she was saying. She just said it. Although she cried every time she spoke, she felt relieved. Her eyes started to swell, her eyelids grew heavier, she could hardly open her eyes. What little she could see was blurred by the tears that tried not to fall down her already wet cheeks. She continued to cry. She continued to speak. She did keep one thing to herself though. The alcohol wasn't enough to totally let her guard down. She held back one thing. And when she woke up the next day... sober... she regretted missing out on the chance to finally rid herself of the baggage she had been carrying around for so long. She needed alcohol again... and soon... before that last thought left inside grows into something bigger... something more crippling... something more damaging. 

She is fictional. She wanted you to know that. 

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