Shadows of Temptation

This story contains multiple sensitive content: mental health, substance abuse, and physical violence.

Jack is pacing back and forth in his small studio apartment. He has lived here for almost four weeks, yet it still does not feel like a home. I'm not too fond of this place, Jack thinks. But that's not what's important right now. He has just received news that he hoped would never come, news that could make the hard work of these last three weeks shatter into millions of pieces. Jack, unsure of what to do, grabs his coat and keys and walks out of his apartment building and into the cold, eerie streets, looking for an answer to his worries or a distraction. 

Not knowing where he is going, he walks and walks and walks. His legs and feet control where he goes as his mind wanders into oblivion. What am I going to do? He thinks to himself. I do not need this right now. I've been trying to get my life fixed. I've been trying to be happy again. As he keeps walking through these cold, wintery January streets, Jack stops and notices where he is walking. A place he was hoping never to see again. 

In front is the warm, welcoming view of Bingo's Bar. Jack starts to feel anxious. He hadn't been here since December, since the last time he had seen his wife, the last time he laid guilty hands on her. Jack remembers the following day, waking up in a jail cell, walking home hungover to where his family should be, but instead is left alone in this empty house, with divorce papers waiting for him on a lonely table. He knows deep down that this is what he deserves. His drinking choices are what his actions led to. And yet, why can't he change? Why can't he be a better person for his family, for himself? He decides his life must change, and what's better than to start that change in the New Year? 

With shaking hands, Jack opens the doors and is hit with many different aromas of alcohol and many lonely conversations of other patrons with nothing else better to do. Leave Jack. Please, he begs himself, walking slowly and cautiously to the bar stool. As he sits here, in this mediocre bar with mediocre people, unable to control his thoughts, feelings, or actions, Jack calls the bartender and orders a Whiskey and Coke, his signature drink, ready to help him forget his worries. Not today, Jack thinks to himself. Please, not today. I have been sober for three weeks. Please do not let this day be the end of my successes.

 Jack watches the bartender prepare his drink. As he pours in the whiskey, Jack begins to sweat with stress, anxiety, embarrassment, and an eagerness to place his dry lips and taste the rich, smooth, and carbonated drink being prepared only for him. Jack looks away from the bartender and turns to face the crowd. He feels as if everyone in this small, musty room is staring at him, judging him. Jack feels like he is performing a show, and everyone is watching, waiting to see what he will do. He thinks that they know that he shouldn't be here. He feels everyone thinks he is a quitter, a stupid, brainless quitter.  

Jack looks up, reddened in the face, and decides to leave, but sees a welcoming and yet, at the same time, a rejecting sight. The bartender places his drink in front of him. "Enjoy", the bartender says. Jack felt the world spinning, and he hadn't even drunk yet. He feels nauseous and wants to scream and run the hell out of this threatening place. Just one sip. One sip won't do anything. No one will know, he thinks to himself, trying to make this situation better. I already paid for the damn thing. The least I can do is try one small, refreshing taste. 

Jack brings the cold, icy glass to his lips. He pauses and thinks to himself of everything that he has accomplished over the last three weeks from being sober. Jack hasn't been hungover in 3 weeks. He can think more clearly than ever. But most importantly, Jack has finally been able to see his boys again with supervision, and things can get better from here if he just puts the damn glass down. But then he remembers this dreadful, awful day. Today is the day when the hospital called and told him that his father is still unresponsive, and it may be time to consider pulling the plug. How am I supposed to make a decision based on this? How can I stay sober now?

His father was never kind to him and beat the crap out of him when he was younger, but still, it's his father. His father was a drunk, too, a mean, cold-hearted drunk who would beat him and his mother senselessly. One day, his father had beaten his mother so severely that she was unconscious for three days. Jack thought she was dead, and his father seemed not to care. Until one morning, Jack's mother woke up, limply walked into the living room, where Jack and his father sat. His father looked at her, then looked back at the television. With a drink in his hand, he said to her, "Next time, do what I say, or else you may not wake up." His father is probably the reason why Jack became a drunk himself. But Jack can't blame his father for the things that he has done as an adult. That was all Jack.  

With the icy cup in his hand, he can feel the condensation move onto his lips. The sweet smell of the drink wafts him. His body throbbing for the warm, welcoming sip, eager for what it feels like. His tongue is waiting for that first drop. And when all hope is lost, and Jack feels this is the end, he places the glass down, leaves the bar, and calls his sponsor.