Bottom of the Bottle

I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before gripping the cool glass and throwing the liquid into the back of my throat. The vodka burned, leaving a hot trail as it washed down. The warmth spread into my chest. It comforted me like a hot bath or a cozy fireside. I barely flinched anymore, even licking my lips as I chased the shot down with an ice cold beer. 

I signaled to the bartender for another shot. He eyed me warily but poured another double without hesitation. I reached for it as soon as he ended its flow, quickly gulping it down before the warmth left me.

He raised an eyebrow. “Everything alright, Sammy? It's only 8:30 and you’re already on your fourth shot.”

I placed the glass down, the resounding clink ringing in my ears. It was supposed to be our anniversary. Stella and I. It would've been two years today. “Long day. Another one?” 

He hesitated, before shrugging and pouring another shot. I immediately noticed that he had only poured a shot and a half instead of a true double, but I downed it anyway. He was only looking out for me, which is nice. But at the end of the day, he’d take my tip and wouldn’t give me any thought. It was better that way.

The clock’s hands hadn’t budged much, but the bartender slid the check to me anyway. “I’m closing up, Sammy. It’s dead and you’re gonna end up drinking us out of  business,” he smirked.

I half heartedly chuckled as I fished out my card, and waited patiently for him to run it through. I chugged the rest of my beer and waved as I left the bar. My car was the only one in the parking lot. I hurried in, the cold nipping away at the buzz in my head.

I checked the floor of the passenger seat, running my fingers over open bottles. Sighing, I realized there weren't any live soldiers to help me face the drive home. 

The buzz slowly dissipated. I was itching to get home, thoughts and memories slowly invading my brain, shadows that threatened to cast in its crevices. I floored it.

As I neatly parked the car in the driveway, I noticed an additional car in front of the apartment and groaned. I stumbled up the stairs, playing with the key until it finally opened the door. Muffled laughter greeted me. I tuned it out as I immediately spotted the leftover bottle of tequila I left on the table. I grabbed it and settled on the couch, switching channels until I found reruns of some 90s show. More laughter and squealing as I popped the cork out and took a long swig, the tequila biting at my stomach.

My roommate, Craig,  emerged from his room. I felt his presence as he entered the living room, and I slightly tensed. He passed me and I kept my eyes trained on the TV. He stopped in the doorway of the bathroom before turning to me. “Hey, how you doing, Sammy?”

“I’m good, how are you? I hear Lily is over.” I kept my eyes on the TV. My finger twitched on the bottle.

He rubbed his neck. “I’m good. And yeah, she’s gonna be here for a couple days. Are you sure you’re alright? Don’t you work tomorrow?”

“Yup.” I didn’t specify which question I was answering. Craig paused for a beat, and I willed for him to just leave and go back to Lily.

“Okay…I’m here if you want to talk.” I knew he was trying to be nice too, and at some point those words would’ve been reassuring. But after everything, they fell flat, meaningless and empty. 

We had been best friends. Always talking, always together, always having fun. But as Lily entered the picture, I felt his absence grow and grow. Plans fell through, stress went untalked about. I took another swig, hardly tasting the tequila and only feeling the burn. It filled the void and I could peacefully slide my eyes shut, dozing off with the TV drowning out the silence.

My phone ringing brought me out of my slumber. I felt around for it, feeling a wetness on the couch. I recoiled and opened my eyes, noticing the half empty bottle of tequila laying on the couch and pooling onto the fabric. I groaned and found my phone. I answered it as I picked up the bottle. “Hello?”

“Oh good, you’re awake. I presume that means you’re on your way here?” Dana’s voice was icy and sweet, sending a jolt through my body as I checked the time.

“Oh, yes! I’m on my way right now, I’m so, so sorry Dana, I’ll be right there.” I blabbered, rushing into my room and grabbing at the first clothes I could grab.

“We’ll talk when you get in. See you soon.” The loud click as she hung up was final. I threw on a jacket and practically ran out the door, brushing past Craig and Lily as they walked up the stairs. I felt their stares as I quickly got into the car and booked it to the office. My mind raced and I tapped my fingers anxiously on the wheel.

I pulled into the parking lot and bolted towards the door, past the receptionist’s questioning gaze, and collapsed into my desk chair. My hands shook as I caught my breath, panting. I really needed water.

One of my coworkers approached me, popping his head over my cubicle wall. “Wow, you look like a mess. Did you even brush your hair? Too much partying last night?”

I bit my tongue and tried my best to contain my rage. “Something like that.”

He whistled, irritating me and causing a headache. “I think Dana is looking for you.”

I seethed, rubbing my temples as I slowly rose onto shaky legs. I trudged towards Dana’s office, bracing myself for the conversation about my third late this month. I knocked on her door and entered.

“Dana, I just want to say, I’m so sorry again, I promise this won’t happen again-”

“Sit.” She didn’t even look up, too focused on shuffling paperwork in front of her. I sank into the seat in front of her, playing with my hands and bouncing my leg. 

She placed the papers down, and pushed her glasses up her nose. She examined me, and I could feel the self-consciousness burying into my pale skin and messy hair. 

“Sammy, what’s going on with you? Are you drinking again?” Dana asked, surprisingly gentle. I kept my eyes trained to a spot on the floor, tracing the carpet patterns.

“Talk to me. What’s going on with you? What’s wrong?”

I bit my lip. How do you say all of it? I’m at a dead end job, my girlfriend Stella broke my heart a year ago, my best friend barely wants to talk to me, and that there’s no reason to living anymore?

Dana sighs. “This is your third late this month, Sammy. You keep it up, and I will fire you. Do you understand?”

I nodded, wanting nothing more than to escape back to my cubicle, with my walls hiding me from view. Dana waved me away dismissively and I scrambled to my feet, rushing towards my cubicle.

I pulled myself to my computer, opening up the program to start working. And stared. I stared at the blinking cursor waiting for me. I couldn’t bring my hands forward and couldn’t move my eyes. I was stuck, staring at the cursor. Dana’s words echoed in my ears. Truth be told, I didn’t care about this job anymore. It paid my rent but left me as just a cog in a machine. It wouldn’t miss me. Flashes of Stella, Craig, old friends. I shut my eyes and opened them, pushing myself off the desk and rolling to one of my cabinets in the corner. I poked my head out, observing that everyone in my vicinity was busy working or socializing. 

I pulled the cabinet out as quietly as possible, and reached in, feeling for the familiar flask I kept hidden. I unscrewed the top and paused. Was I really going to drink during work hours after just getting yelled at?

I hung my head, the disappointment washing over me in waves. I couldn’t take it, the voices getting louder. I gripped the flask tighter and downed it, gulp after gulp calming the crashing waves. I shook the flask over my lips, ensuring not a drop was wasted, before dejectedly dropping it back into the drawer.

My fingers drummed on the desk, as my eyes trailed the hands of the clock moving slowly towards 5. As soon as I noticed my coworkers gathering their things, I quickly walked towards the exit. Dana called something out after me, but I was already gone, turning the key into the engine and speeding away.

My hands still shook as I shifted lanes. I fought to keep them still and to keep my eyes open. I just needed to get home, I just needed a buzz.

Stella crawled into my head, and I sped even faster, trying to escape her clutches. Her smile burned bright in my head. Craig and Lily laughed at me, and I squinted my eyes to focus on the road. I slowed the car to a crawl and parked in front of the apartment.

I jogged up to the door and slowly let myself in, my hands threatening to drop my keys. My head was pounding and I went to the bathroom for ibuprofen. I caught sight of my reflection and froze.

A stranger stared back at me, with bloodshot eyes that quivered. His hair was disheveled, and his clothes wrinkled. His skin was sickly pale, and I touched my hand to my face, shocked. The man did the same, mocking me.

I turned away. I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t stand him. I walked to the couch and felt for the spot of spilt tequila. It smelled like cleaning supplies; Craig must’ve cleaned it up. I sighed and fell onto the couch, face first. I wanted a drink. I needed a drink. But that stranger…

I reached for the bottle, wrapping my hands around its neck. I couldn’t lift it, not knowing if I was simply too weak, or my mind was blocking me.

I clenched it. I shakily sat up. I lifted it towards my lips. I felt the stranger smirking at me as I took a drink. I let him.