A Better Life

I'm never getting drunk again

I'm never getting drunk again.

I've never felt this terrible in my entire life – head pounding, vision blurry, nausea and confusion.

I groan, trying to get up, but failing miserably. I don't know what time it is, but the sun is already peeking through the curtains, throwing some light on the untouched bed.

My head is spinning so badly.

Somewhere in the house I hear children screaming. Or was it a bird? Maybe a chair squeaking? I don't know anymore. All I know is that I want to crawl into bed and sleep this terrible feeling away.

"Jany, Jany, Jany!!"

I groan, but squint my eyes open none the less. A few kids are standing over me. I see their mouths moving but only make out some of the words thrown at me. "Melissa" "you" "breakfast" and then the last word "blood" that makes me sit upright, ignoring the vomit trying to come up and the light trying to fade.

"Wait, wait, wait... what?" I ask, concern nudging at my heart.

"Melissa was trying to make breakfast because you weren't up yet, and we didn't wanna wake you. But the plate fell out of her hands, and it cut her." One of the kids rush out.

"And now she's bleeding, like a lot." Another adds.

"And we didn't know what to do, so we're sorry we had to wake you up."

"No, no. You should woke up." I try to talk sense, but the way they're looking at me tells me it's a fail. I slowly get up, trying to quicken everything I do, but also trying not to pass out or vomit – they don't need to see me like that, right now they need my help.

Descending the stairs and thankfully not bashing my head open, I finally make it to the kitchen. Blood on the counter. Blood on the floor. Blood in the sink. Blood on Melissa. Blood everywhere. Usually, blood doesn't make me queasy, but this time it does. Or maybe it's still the alcohol?

"Alright, no leaves the house. Hospital... Yeah" With that, we're out the door. One of the kids, I think her name is Taffy? Tiffy? Something like that, follows us out the house, arguing that I'm not in the right state of mind to walk Melissa to the hospital by myself.

We finally make it to the hospital – I don't know how many wrong turns we took or how long it took us, I'm just glad she hasn't bled out yet. Can you still stand and maybe be dead already. Oh no, I should check her pulse. Where do you check for a pulse again? In the heart? No, yes, I don't know. Can I even feel her heart beating? How do you feel a heart beating if it's not your own. I don't feel my heart beating. AM I DEAD?! No, Jany, focus.

I try to channel all my focus onto the one word I speak towards the nurse. Or is it a doctor? Anywaysssss, here goes. "Injured." There, I did it. The person looks up to me and then to Melissa and suddenly jumps into action. I think she's asking me a question, but I don't know anymore. The girl whose name starts with a "T" starts doing all the talking for me, probably explaining how this happened and blah, blah, blah. All I know is the alcohol is trying to find it's way back up and out of me and I don't intend for that to happen in front of a... whatever person they are.

Melissa gets taken away by some people in white jackets. Coats? Things? T-girl follows closely behind, and I plop down onto the ground at the reception, having outdone myself. I just want to crawl somewhere far away and sleep this feeling away.

"Jany?"

Maybe if I ignore the voice, it'll go away.

"Jany."

Shut up.

"Hey" And now someone is shaking me.

I squint my eyes open to see two identical people in front of me. Hey, they're twins. I always wanted a twin. No, I didn't. Did I?