The drink had its claws in me.
I knew that.
But I didn’t care.
I didn’t care that it was digging deeper and deeper into my skin.
The drink was killing me and I didn’t care.
I didn’t care about myself.
I didn’t care about those around me.
All I cared about was the drink.
I knew the drink was going to take my life one day.
And I didn’t care.
How could I have been that stupid?
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Categories: flash fiction