Chapter 1

A little intro into Jason's life. Nothing exiting yet.

Beer. Wine. Whisky. Rum. Brandy. Gin. Heineken, Guinness, Bud Light, Corona. Alamos, Cupcake Vineyard, Apothic, 14 Hands. Jack Daniel's, Jim Bean, Wild Turkey, Four Roses. Bacardi, Captain Morgan, Sailor Jerry, Mount Gay. Hennessy, Martell, Three Barrels, KWV. Hendrick's, Gordon's, Plymouth.

 

Jason stare at the bottles dumbfounded. Alcoholic, he reminded himself. She's an alcoholic. There's no need to be surprised. Or disappointed.

 

His mother. Jason's mom wasn't someone one could really call a mother. She didn't act much like one, and she certainly didn’t like Jason. Jason's father, Mark, was okay, though. At least he cared about Jason, in some warped way. He thought Jason was crazy, completely nuts, just like Brittney and the rest of the world, but instead of shunning him, Mark tried to help him. Granted, Jason didn't need help, but at least this meant the Mark loved him, or at the very least, acknowledged him.

 

At that moment, Brittney stumbled through the door. Jason moved to the corner of the room and silently observed his mother. She was once beautiful, with flushed cheeks and tan, smooth skin, luxurious silky hair and twinkling eyes. Now, she was pale and her face and was drawn down with creases. Her once shiny hair had become dull and limp, and Jason could see the thick grease weighing it down. Brittney was wearing a short silver dress made of shiny sequins and 4 inch silver heels. Her purse, also silver, was slung over her shoulder, and Brittney was rummaging through it. Finally, finding what she was looking for, she withdrew her hand, and to Jason's dismay, he could see it was most definitely not a cigar, or a bottle of alcohol. No, it was a plastic bag filled with a fine white powder and sloppily rolled cigarettes. Brittney began to insistently scratch at her arm, and Jason knew. Meth. Cocaine. Marijuana. His mother was not an alcoholic. She was a drug addict.

 

Brittney stumbled out of the room, her eyes glazed over, without a glance at her son. Soon after she left, Mark came in.

 

Mark was not someone people who consider "handsome", per say. He had a tan, square shaped face and jet black, gelled back hair. He had a strong jaw line and green, lush eyes. However, that was where the good looks stopped. His forehead had wrinkles of worry worked permanently in and his mouth was set into a frown. His lips were chopped and puffy (naturally) and his face was chubby. His stomach was quite apparent, and almost impossible to hide, and his hair was quite thick everywhere but his head.

 

"Hello, Jason," he said, turning to look at Jason. "How are you today?"

 

"Good," came his reply.

 

Mark's forehead creased as he nodded hastily and walked out of the room with his cell phone in hand.

 

"Yes, impersonal…" Jason heard as Mark turned and left the kitchen.

 

Jason shook his head. There was nothing he could do. Once again, the therapist was going to come, and Jason would just have to endure it.

 

Jason turned, heading up to his room.

Author's Note

Hope you like! The first paragraph took a little Googling...I don't drink, so I'm not sure if all does are legit, or popular or whatever. Let me know if I made a mistake any where.

Reviews

[elektra373]

Intiruguing