Tumbling Down ā Self Para
The party hadnāt been successful to say the least. Just hours after returning home Finn started to sober up a little. But what was he to expect? The last party heād had did end in disaster and this one he didnāt even want to be at. First there was Chloe, who didnāt show - as far as he was aware. At this very moment as he sat on his bed, spare hand attached to his banging head, he sent Chloe a message stating it was over. His bottom lip quivered as he read it back to himself, but forced tears back. A girlfriend who was never there, wasnāt a real girlfriend. He had to remind himself. Everybody else confirmed the way heād been feeling was acceptable.
Then there was kissing his friend when he got home. He was drunk with no clue in the world what was going on. But he remembered and felt guilty. What if she reacted in the same way May had? Following on from that, May was the next thing. Finn didnāt know what he felt for her, but whatever he did feel was clouded by her dishonesty and the feeling of being betrayed. He still struggled with being who he was, and nobody. not even she seemed to understand. Knowing sheād moved straight on and kissed somebody else made it worse. Especially when knowing if she knew heād done the same, heād be in the shit. It was impossible to be happy and have others happy at the same time. Usually he chose the others, but that was perhaps why he felt so low himself all the time.
Then there was Summer. An event he shouldāve expected but didn't. Death seemed frequent. Haileyās was still on his mind. It was what had started his bad mood, when heād remembered and he wasnāt coping with it in the slightest so handled it with alcohol. More-so than when heād originally found out nearly a year ago. He didnāt know Summer well; didnāt really like her due to her brother, but he felt it was his fault, what with it being at his party. For once he found an ounce of respect for Stephen knowing heād be dealing with it and how hard itād be. Heād never cope with losing Mila.
Then finally, heād gone and spent all his money in one night. On the most part on people heād never met, or didnāt recognise. All of his money heād saved up and got from his job, all of the money his Nan had left him. It was meant to go on his first house, but heād thrown it all away. Now partially sober-though not entirely- he realised what heād done. It broke his heart; scattered it into pieces. What would she think of him if she could see what heād done? What would his Mum who he barely knew think of him? She wouldnāt be proud and Mila would be sure to tell her when she found out. He knew Mila wouldnāt be happy with it.
And there it was. He definitely didnāt have enough money left to survive, or to pay the rent. He couldnāt bear to face any of his friends or family, or any of the others in town. Rubbing his hands down his wet cheeks he reached for the bottle of vodka sat besides him. And he downed it. All the pain was gathering and it was so harsh, beating down on him like a pile of rocks. It was the only way to stop it. And he couldnāt stay in the flat, so he didnāt. He only felt hate for everything in the town. Maybe somewhere else would feel better. Finn grabbed only the bottle and headed out into the darkness of the early morning. He stumbled along the footpaths with no destination in sight. Past and across roads and roundabouts. Through trees and into the mist.
Eventually he found himself on an incredibly busy road, even for that time of the morning. There was no footpath beside the road, just a patch of grass...and a ditch. Slipping on the wet mud, Finn went flying. His whole body thumped down into the large, long hole in the ground. Stinging nettles surrounded his body and his bottle of vodka fell on him, causing cuts on his shoulder and the sides of his cheeks. But he was too drunk to get up. This is what life was for him now; a night in a ditch, knocked out by the bottle of his own alcohol.
