Daily Prompt: Proclivity
Megan’s daily practice, a ritual developed to make it from one day to the next, had become her only solace. An escape from what she couldn’t face in the faces of everyone she knew, and many that she didn’t. Now, the very thing she felt was holding every molecule of her shattered being together, threatened to destroy her completely. Her greatest fear, that of letting go and having each small piece of herself scatter to the edge of an uncontrollable madness, was a madness she knew she would not recover from. And so she drank to ease the pain, and she drank to forget.
She knew real comfort could only be found when her shaking hands were wrapped around a full glass, as the smooth, familiar liquid touched her lips and slid down her throat. She didn’t taste it anymore. It may as well have been water and she drank it like it was. Her proclivity to lose herself in the bottom of a class of vodka at the end of each day, had turned into a bottle throughout the day and then two. And now they were hidden all over the house.
There were half empty bottles under the good towels at the back of the linen press, behind the kitty litter in the laundry cupboard and to her embarrassment, no to her deepest self loathing, in a shoebox in the bottom of her small daughters toy box. The madness bought on by fear, rejection and humiliation was encroaching on her sanity and she knew if she didn’t get her shit together they would take her baby.
He had moved in with Claire, his wealthy, educated and perfectly put together boss, while Megan was pregnant with their child. The humiliation of being the only one in town who didn’t know about their affair, was devastating. Now they wanted her baby. She had only forgotten to pick Lotti up one time from their perfect little house with the white picket fence, one time in five years, and she would never forgive herself. They were going to fight her for custody and they were going to win.