My Moment / / H.S.✔

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT

Moment POV:

The lights. The blaring noises. The screaming and yells curdling throughout my brain as my death approaches my essence. The blood was too much. Too much for me to live and too little for me to die. My physical physique continued to be flawed as the red fluid ran out of my hurting frame.

Yet, as I was reaching what I thought was the end, a light came to view.  Illuminating the darkness and gleaming through every corner of murkiness, extreme, bright, shining brilliance made its entrance as it began to find me.

I wanted to understand. Comprehend what this was or if I was really at my breaking point. Was I really dead? Or close to it? And if I was, why would my best friend pull the trigger to break and diminish my existence? Questions of the hundred roam my dead brain as my body remains motionless.

Luminosity sustained its bright color as my eyes close from the relentless light. Squeezing my sight shut, the glow faded and when I regained my vision, my surroundings were made clear.

Here I was, back to where all this hell began. Where my life took a turn for the worse and where my existence soon began to unworthy. The bar was just as I remembered. Dim lights, crowded space, and the putrid smell of alcohol. Colors of black and gray beam from the walls as tall bar stools sit across the long, wooden counter. This was my beginning and my end. This was the day and hour, my life turned to shit. This was the year I fell in love with Evan William Peters.

My weightless body fell behind the dark shadows of the room as I witnessed my past unravel into my future. The clock relentlessly tocked as I soon saw the skinny, drunk, me from years ago. This memory consumed the happiness in my dying heart, but there was nothing I could do or undo. All I could do was watch and witness myself make the worst decision of my life.

3rd Person POV:

"I'll take another, bartender." Moment states, a beer shoved in front of her seconds later. Chugging the thick, viscous liquid, Moment knew her veins were begging for more of that sinful drink. She knew what her mind and her conscious wanted. Moment craved for attention and some love from somebody. Hell, anybody.

"So, what brings you here, love?" The man smoothy says behind Moment, taking a seat next to her.

"My dad's dead." Moment slurs, chugging down another beer and knocking it over.
"Yeah me too." The handsome british man says, asking for a beer from the bartender.

"Oh, yeah? Well, I guess we're both gonna get wasted and drunk tonight." Moment says, clinking her beer with his.

"Cheers to that. And cheers to greater and a happier days after this." He claims, the two of them drinking there alcoholic beverages together. "You know what I think?" The british guy continues, Moment extremely intrigued to his words.

"What?" Moment asks, scooting her stool closer to his.

"I think we were destined for greater and better things than just getting drunk at a bar."

"Fuck that. You know what I was born to do? To screw everything up. To mess up my path and others. My dad and mom are dead, my friends are gone, and my love life is non existent. If anything, this drink is doing me a bloody favor. All I want is to forget." Her words were slurred, but he knew just by looking at her that she was greater and far more talented than what she believed. She was one of a kind and was not born to just get by. She was born to live a life through and for herself.

"You don't see it, do you?" He asks, withdrawing the drink from her grasp and throwing it in the trash. Shaking her head no, she grew more and more anxious and nervous for what his words were about to be said. "You are one of a kind. You're not a drunk or a slut. You are you. Be real to yourself and to others. You were meant to live a life for you and yes your beauty is a common factor of your perfection, but I can tell that your talent and your soul will help you go far one day."