It's just a drink

“It’s just a drink,” he tries to convince me, but it’s really bottled hatred. Bubbling over with anger and pain. It can capture your mind and push you over the cliff of destruction. As you hit the ground, reality rushes over you and you start to remember things. Things you have done to people that you never thought you would do. Things people you trusted have done. Things you never wanted to relive. I take the drink.