Clarissa Copeland.
The last thing he had wanted to do that day was go to a meeting for alcoholics, but thatâs exactly where David had ended up being. While he had wanted to blame his parents or best friend or the night guard who had taken away his innocence for his addiction, he knew that it wasnât their fault, not completely. They hadnât forced him to start drinking, but at the time, he thought it was his only way to escape the crappy reality. It helped him a lot at first, but now, it only made him angry and lonely, which wasnât the best combination. Heâs known for years that he needed to stop, and while he had cut back a lot on his own, he would occasionally slip up. He wasnât as bad as he used to be, but he knew he would never be one hundred percent fixed if he didnât go to at least one stupid meeting. And he needed to at least try to control his limit, if not for him, then for the girl he was seeing and her son. David released a sigh as he walked into the room where the other addicts were, some already seated, and others in a conversation. The room was small and white, the only colors were the colored papers pinned on the bulletin board on one of the walls. They were forcing people to be stuck here for an hour to talk about their stories, and they couldnât have at least make the place a little bit more cheerful? It was like hell. As much as the brunette male wanted to turn around, walk back through the door like he had never been there in the first place, and go back home to play video games or something for the rest of the night, the voice in the back of his head reminded him why he was there in the first place. For Rora and Rixon, he thought to himself. At that same exact moment, a woman, who he assumed was their counselor, spoke up, telling everyone to take their seats. He took one last look over his shoulder at the door, almost cursing himself for coming here in the first place, before he forced his feet to drag him to the closest empty seat. Leaning against the chair, he crossed his arms as his eyes roamed to the faces all around him. Some of the people in the room surprised him; if he had walked past them in the street or if they were a random client at the law firm, he didnât think heâd ever guess they needed help. Others, though, seemed to fit in. David, while he didnât look like he belonged there right now, there were times when he got into his binging moods and constantly looked hungover. All David had to do was sit through an hour of this, and then heâd be free to leave, maybe after grabbing a few snacks to take home. His eyes moved to the table where a bunch of snacks and refreshments were laid out, and on cue, his stomach growled quietly. When the female began to talk again, his eyes shifted back ahead of him, watching as one guy had raised his hand to volunteer to start this off. Who even does that? David blocked out most of his story, his mind wandering off to other places. Davidâs attentioned was brought back shortly attention, hearing the word âmolestedâ. He stared at the girl, admiring the way that she just admitted that to everyone. Having been molested also when he was a teenager, he never spoke a word of it to anyone, not even his twin sister who knew the most about him. Though he didnât tell anyone, he never forgot about those sleepless nights, having nightmares about it ever since. There were still some nights where he couldnât bring himself to turn his bedroom light off. The dark haired woman sat down, and few a few moments, it was completely silent in the room, as everyone waited to see who would be brave enough to volunteer or if theyâd have to be picked randomly. Before he could process what was happening, David stood up, all eyes on him. âHi, uh, Iâm David. I got involved with the wrong crowd when I was younger, and things happened while I was involved with them, so now Iâm really messed up and alcohol is the only thing thatâs been there for me after all these years.â Shrugging his shoulders, he sat back down. He hadnât wanted to tell his entire life story like the two people before him had done - he didnât need all these people to know he had partaken in an activity that killed a guy, or that he had been sent away to a boys group home when he was younger and he lost his innocence during his days there. They didnât need to know about how he still has nightmares about those nights vividly, like he was there all over again. He shook his head, listening as to the next person went. When everyone had shared and they were dismissed, David got up, and, instead of going to the snack table like his original plan was, he found himself quickly heading in the direction of that molested girl. Tapping on her shoulder, he cleared his throat when she turned around to face him. âClarissa, right?â He asked, remembering that was what she introduced herself as. âDavid. I just wanted to say that I admire how you told everyone about what happened to you. Not everyone wouldâve done that.â














