“..When you truly love someone, the liver pays the price after it's all over...” a drawling voice hiccoughed. Damon drank another portion of whiskey as the setting sun dimmed the drawing room where the two boys were sitting. “I louf er mahn...”, the drunken voice of Stanley continued. “ I know.”, Damon whispered, a heartbroken, hopeless whisper. He reminisced the days when his evenings would expire in her company, when she would hold his hand whilst walking the streets, when evenings did not mean whiskey with another heartbroken friend. This friend, however had another not-an-happy-ending-love story, and Damon had confided some facts about his tragic heart break to Stanley, but not all. Damon knew, he would never confide in anyone. This however, was not to hold true in the near future, but Damon knew so little then.
“Go home Stan. It’s already dark.”
“I louf er so mush.”
Damon had to stumble over to Stanley to shake him awake to the real world. “Go home. It’s been 3 hours since the game ended and mom must be on her way back. Go. I’ll see you at the party.”
Stumbling and murmuring deliriously, Stanley made his way back home, as Damon piled the empty bottles of liquor in the locality dustbin. He had made up his mind, and nothing, or no one for that matter, was going to stop him tonight.
No comments:
Post a Comment