The Craving

Chapter Five

5

            When I get back home from my hour and a half drive from the city, I toss my keys on the counter, grab the remote and turn the TV on along with the satellite. I started to think of what the doc had said, “Write it!” and six words pursue me, haunt me.

 

I am driven to the edge.

 

I don’t know why? It just seems to be hanging on to me, sticking to me, engraved like a bad tattoo. These words pop out from time to time, it’s making me think I’m going crazy, but I stop and think, maybe, maybe its something that wants to come out. I quickly look from my notes, my book, my pen or pencil, something, so that I can put it down on paper, in case… I’d forget. Which was unlikely to happen, these words formed in my head sometime ago, I can’t remember when, but I know they have been there a while.

I am driven to the edge,

I write these words down on a single piece of paper, and place it in the book I will soon write out my life, something that may lead me from my pain. My heart aches at times, and my stomach seemed to have dropped. I look into my fridge and there staring back at me, was cold frosty ones. My mouth waters at the site, the urge is in me, the craving, it’s like a starvation. My throat is dry, my body weakens and I close the fridge with my back resting against it. I look at my hands, they are shaking, and I clench them closed and pull them in toward me, my head tilted upward with my eyes closed, tears run away from them. Those words run in my head repeatedly, like a scratched record.

I try to resist, I even went to my room. The burning sensation was in the pit of my stomach, I yearned it like a man yearns for crack. The cold sweats made me shiver like a mad man, the twitching, and the itching…

It was driving me crazy, knowing… what lay in my fridge, and no one is stopping me from taking it. I can’t take it no more, I race toward the fridge and leap over furniture to get there. The door flings open and my cold clammy hands, grab the nice chilled beer. I pop the top off and chug it…

 

That cold liquid runs down my throat…

My insides explode with delight,

My throat burns, but it feels good.

The taste makes my mouth water,

The smell burns my nostrils.

One beer,

So quickly done.

My eyes slightly closed,

My body feels funny.

A liquid storm runs inside,

A liquid storm soothes me.

The sensation so good,

My knees wobble, oh so great.

The rush of it makes me feel faint.

 

I grab another and sit on my couch, but this one, isn’t as great as the first one. How I wanted it, how I needed it.

That’s funny… this is how I felt when I was having sex.

Maybe I need a women, maybe it’s all I need. To make me feel good, it’s been a while, since I can remember. I sit there, and suddenly realize, I’m naked. After I finish the second one, I jump in the shower.

Once I was out and dressed, I went for another beer, and saw my booklet on the counter, I stare at those words on paper, and that were etched into my brain. I think of what the doc had suggested, and so I sat there for a moment before on word comes to mind and I write it in my book,

Memories… Is as far as I get. But it’s a start. At least I’m trying to pen what I may be hiding, but maybe I’m not ready yet, even to myself. I’m not ready to pen that raging sea within.

I am a writer; I have published and sold my one screenplay that has made me a large sum of money. I’m not famous, not a millionaire, but a good writer, so I was told. Now look at me, I’m nothing but a has-been, a drunk, an alcoholic with way too much money. I think I was doing better poor… barely making ends meet, until I sold my one screenplay… maybe… that’s when my drinking became a problem, the more money I made, the more I flashed the dough, women wanted to be near me, and man I fucked women left and right, I had it made… and I forgot the one gem that meant a lot to me, she were at home with the kids, she stood by me in my troubled times, my struggling times…

Now, I’m as sorry as I can be, a wretched fool.

I need a drink…

Reviews

[Lily Mae]

Those words alone and in the bold send shivers up and down my arms.. very powerful if you can understand the depth and meaning of them..x

[Norma M Sutton]

I am driven to the edge. That pretty much says it all.

[deeps]

This is wonderful, I enjoyed your chapter. Very well written.

[Wicahpi]

ps. i liked the 'poem' embedded after the first chug.

[Wicahpi]

This reminds me of someone that was up all night on the edge, ready to call it quits, couldn't see above the black cloud hanging over his head...and I sat with him for hours, talking...until the idea came...write ONE word...just one...paste it on your door or wherever you will see it when you first open your eyes from sleep...
a word...like the "Memories" here, but only a ONE positive that would make a soul, that soul, smile and find (life) was worth another minute, two minutes (for sometimes that is all one can do; get through a minute at a time). It actually worked..and I was happy about that. Your entire story thus far is a mirror into what I see people face, everyday.
There are two edits: 2nd paragraph, first sentence should be (I don't Know why)
and same paragraph, 4th sentence (I quickly look For my notes). And I think the last paragraph from (I think I was doing better poor...) till the end should have some periods instead of one long drawn out sentence? That's totally your call.
So far so good!!