Sweet Cherry Life

I wake up on my couch at 2:30 again

A cycle that can’t stop, won’t stop.

Not for my children, my husband or my dog

The smell of bodily fluids stains the inners of my trailer

Not my children’s, they were trained better than that.

Not taught.

Trained.

Bribed with McDonalds and various other quick and easy foods

I don’t even know where the mop is amongst all this clutter

I wouldn’t know where to start

cleaning the kitchen

My children stay later and later every school night.

I’d leave too, If I found the will to escape.

I’m tired still.

It’s only 5:00 and the tv shows lack lustre.

My dog drools on the ground; he’s hungry again.

I never wanted this dog

Bought him when I still cared about my children.

I get up from the couch - my butt is stuck- indented in foam

And weave through the mountains of trash and garbage

My waypoint was set

My goal was set

My heart was set

I open my half-rusted fridge, stolen from the pavement

The milk has curdled; the veggies now unrecognisable

I find my alcohol

My sweet, sweet alcohol

I wouldn’t be here right now if it wasn’t for my lovely alcohol

My sweet, sweet saviour

My one and only happiness.

Time flies by, now it’s 8:00

My children come home, trying not to be spotted

Ashley! Rile!

They didn’t see me

They’ve never seen me

I lose count of the drinks I’ve consumed.

Sometimes I wander between my drunken episodes.

I pace around my tight fit trailer

I never should’ve picked up the drink

I’m forgetting everything.

Do I still want to forget everything?

Everything, everything and everything…

My children, my husband and my dog

This cruel, cruel world took away my life in the worst way

I’m a husk that only feels emotion with alcohol

I’m the lowest of the low

My family. My family of one.

I’m disappointed

I’m disgraced

I’m deranged

Slipped into an alcoholic in the name of my children

I look at the photos half falling off the walls

I was smiling

They were smiling

They were alive

I was alive

But now I’m dead

Dead, dead, dead

Nothing but a dead person walking

If only I was put into an early grave like them, with them

It’ll get better with one more drink, right?

Rachel Bell

Year 10