This War Of Mine

Chapter X

"Sasha."

"Sasha. I'm sorry."

"I should have told you."

"Shut up." Sasha demanded the silence of the disembodied. "Shut the fuck up, Lance. Your dead. You're just an illusion. This. This is why I drink. This is why I can't bring myself to tell the truth to Michael. It's because of all of this. What am I supposed to say? That I hear you because of my grief over you? That medications alone can't stop. Fuck."

Sasha began sobbing through her self talk. "You lied to me. You lied to me that you were fine. All I have are theories. Theories only why you never told me about the importance of your fucking cancer. I knew you all my life." The great amount of intoxication wasn't allowing her peace of mind at this point. "You could have told me you selfish bastard."

"You were never about yourself, were you Sasha? You were always about those around you. That's why I always loved you."

"Still not going away this time?" Sasha questioned herself grabbing another bottle. Staring at herself through the shattered bar mirror. Swig after swig. Nothing was eliminating what her inner torment was reminding her like a broken record on cycle. "How about you fuck off, Lance. There's a reason why I have the medications in the first place."

Sasha had shuffled through the broken glass, wanting escape. "Fuck this. Fuck all of this." She had continued fighting with herself. "I have to get the fuck out of here. I don't want to stay here." She needed escape.

Departing her Diamond Casino Penthouse. Leaving her phone and just wanting to distance herself from those who might notice her. Heading down East Vinewood, Sasha was sprinting. Not watching where she was going, there were a few she had collided with.

"What's your damn problem lady? Drunks. I swear."

"Sorry about that. Sorry." Sasha's response being delayed, but were most uncertain. Had she be able to reciprocate to those around her?

Sasha knew she couldn't talk straight through her stumbling, but all she wanted was to get to a more isolated placed so that being within public view wasn't of question. Continuing in the direction of East Vinewood, everything seemed to blur. The passage of time almost becoming irrelevant. Reality blacked out around her.

"You always been stranded haven't you?" The voice in her head kept rambling. "I always questioned if I only worsened your state of mind. Your condition. Your overall mental state."

"Hearing your voice in my head isn't helping." Sasha spoke more loudly to herself. "Get out of my fucking head. Get out, get out, get out!"

"Any louder and you're going to cause a scene. Relax." A different voice. One that was recently familiar. "I was wondering why you weren't answering your damn phone. Are you all right?"

Sasha had zoned back into reality. More tears streamed down her face. There was no way that she was already hallucinating him. She quickly became more confused and disoriented. "Mich... Michael."

"You're drunk."

"When...?"

"Relax, Sasha. I'm here. Why aren't you monitoring your drinking? You promised."

"I've been hearing his voice."

"What? Whose voice?" Michael kept talking to try and sober her thoughts. He observed her struggling to gain back to senses. As if traumatized. "Sasha. Please. Talk to me."

"Ever since Lance's death. My grief for him has cause hallucinations. It's why I'm on medications. Medications that don't do jack shit." Sasha's barriers were breaking down. There wasn't much else that could explain such vile behavior. This included promising Michael himself that she would moderate her drinking.