THE CRAVE
JULY 6TH 2004
The crave had been on for days now; had been finding it a bit difficult to control it. I was longing for that bitter-sweet, ecstasy-giving, cloud-living taste. I had hoped I could wait until after the exams but the thirst had me cornered. The rush above all else was what I craved for. I tried to hold it back but my efforts failed me and then I caved in, convinced one of my friends at the house where I went to study before our examination that day to escort me so we could get it. She obliged and before I knew it, it was in my hand; she got one for herself as well. I sliced the sachet open with keen ferocity hoping not to be noticed; I squeezed the sachet and smiled when I felt the liquid flow down to my throat. I didn’t allow it a free pass just yet; I gaggled it making sure all its taste was everywhere in my mouth and then I let it go.
The alcohol was the sweetest thing I tasted that day. When my friends found out, they gave us the cold-shoulder treatment but it was easy to win back their hearts. What can I say, I love alcohol and it’s not entirely my fault. My dad always gave us a sip every now and then and whisky was is my specialty.
One day, I snuck into my dad’s wine cabinet and got full shot of his whisky and staggered off to bed. The taste was undeniably nourishing and the best part is that my brother got the blame for it instead of me.
The crave had been on for days now; had been finding it a bit difficult to control it. I was longing for that bitter-sweet, ecstasy-giving, cloud-living taste. I had hoped I could wait until after the exams but the thirst had me cornered. The rush above all else was what I craved for. I tried to hold it back but my efforts failed me and then I caved in, convinced one of my friends at the house where I went to study before our examination that day to escort me so we could get it. She obliged and before I knew it, it was in my hand; she got one for herself as well. I sliced the sachet open with keen ferocity hoping not to be noticed; I squeezed the sachet and smiled when I felt the liquid flow down to my throat. I didn’t allow it a free pass just yet; I gaggled it making sure all its taste was everywhere in my mouth and then I let it go.
The alcohol was the sweetest thing I tasted that day. When my friends found out, they gave us the cold-shoulder treatment but it was easy to win back their hearts. What can I say, I love alcohol and it’s not entirely my fault. My dad always gave us a sip every now and then and whisky was is my specialty.
One day, I snuck into my dad’s wine cabinet and got full shot of his whisky and staggered off to bed. The taste was undeniably nourishing and the best part is that my brother got the blame for it instead of me.
Comments
Post a Comment