The glass that never emptied

The glass felt heavy with each sip, though it hadn’t emptied. My fingers slipped slightly against the condensation, but I didn’t set it down. I kept drinking.

The first taste had been familiar, something I’d craved. But it faded too quickly, dissolving into nothing.

I tipped the glass again. Coldness slid down my throat. X was supposed to be comforting, nostalgic. But the flavor was simply out of reach, teasing me as I tightened my grip.

Across the table, a man stared into his own drink. His lips twitched upward, like he was enjoying himself. I wanted to slap the glass out of his hand, demand he tell me what he tasted. But I stayed still.

The bar was crowded but quiet in the way places get when people are trying not to listen to one another. The bartender glanced my way, In her eyes held familiarity, she looked past me to the next order. I raised my hand, hesitant.

“I think that’s enough. I’m cutting you o-“

“NO. GIVE ME SOMETHING STRONGER DAMNIT.” I said with frustration. People stared at me with disgust and amusement. Why wasn’t anyone feeling the same as me?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout. Please give me something stronger. I’m having a hard time here. What’s the problem? I’ll pay it all.”

She sighed as she poured. I drank. The same result.

I was getting angry now, though I didn’t know why. The man across from me smirked. I wanted to punch him. My knuckles ached just imagining it.

“What do you taste?” I asked.

He leaned back, rolling the glass between his palms. “What do you taste?”

“Nothing.”

He began to double over in laughter. Giving into my urges, I punched the man and shook him forcefully. “What the fuck is your problem? What is going on and what is so GODDAMN funny to you??” My blood was boiling and it felt like everyone had their eyes on me. I was surrounded and the center of attention and couldn’t figure out what was going on.

The bartender began frantically sobbing. I felt a bit of sympathy for her considering she looks quite familiar. Those eyes…she has her mother’s eyes.

Just as that thought washed over me, I was no longer in a bar. I was outside on the sidewalk. Surrounded by people in front of a school and the man I was shaking….was my own son. The bartender was no longer the bartender. She was my daughter. I’m embarrassing myself and them in front of their school.

I had an episode. I thought maybe just one time I could do something for them. Be a father that they deserved. I thought the medicine was going to help me. A failure, the medicine and myself, failures.

I began to slowly back away, feeling panicked and completely ashamed of myself and my illness. I just wanted on day of peace.

“I’m so sorry Jeremy, don’t cry Brianna, I’m so so sorry.” I hopped into the car and sped home. I should have known, there was no normal for a man like me. My son made a mockery of me with his friends, my daughter was probably embarrassed as all hell. I paced through the house, grabbed the whiskey and gulped it down. Chuckling at myself, at least I can taste it this time. I made my way to the garage.

All the tools are in here, I began searching for the rope and tying it to the garage door. I used a broom stick to push the open button and I began losing air. This didn’t hurt as much as me failing to be a father did. They’ll be better off without me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brianna

School was a nightmare today. Dad had an episode in front of everyone. Jeremy made him the laughing stock of the school, while I cried for the man who was at war with his own mind.

Walking into the driveway I notice the garage door is open. “Jeremy go check on dad and tell him he left the door open.” I yelled so he could hear me. “Don’t worry, I’m sure the coocoo for coacoa puffs man didn’t notice.” He said with laughter in his voice. I would have to have a conversation about this with him later.

As soon as I walked into the garage, I saw it. A rope hanging from the cieling, a rope tied for hang. Dad laying on the ground with a whiskey bottle in hand. He had tried to hang himself, but had an episode that saved him. Or maybe the first episode never ended.

“…oh dad.”