AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I was planning to share today, okay?” I pull a folded sheet of paper out of my pocket. “I wrote a fucking speech and everything.”
“You’re joking.”
“Unfortunately not. I want to share today, unless you’d rather stand here and berate me for the rest of the afternoon.”
He smiles and gestures for me to walk into the room first.
As usual, everyone grabs their Starbucks and takes their place in the circle.
We go through our affirmations, and just when we’re preparing to write in our “What I’ve Learned This Week” journals, Tim stands up.
“Wait,” he says. “We’re going to do things a little differently tonight. As you all know, today is our Starbucks supplier’s last day and she has something she wants to say.”
“What?”
“Go ahead.” He motions for me to stand as he takes his seat.
I sigh and stand up, looking all around the circle. “Um...First of all, I would like to apologize for laughing at all of you over the past ninety days.
“We never heard you laughing.” “Yeah, you didn’t laugh.” “When was this?”
“I laughed at all of you.” I sigh and look over at my main source of entertainment—the woman who brought her childhood blanket to every session. “Especially you. You just cry so fucking much, you know? You cried when it wasn’t even your turn to talk, when we were discussing simple shit like what we did over the weekend, and you always—”
“Emerald...” Tim rolls his eyes. “Stay focused please.”
“Right...Um...” I shake my head and approach the center podium. “Let me start over.”
I notice everyone shifting in their seats. I’ve never stood at the podium before; standing up and talking is for simple chat, pleasantries. The podium is for the soul cleanse, the shit you want to vomit into the world with hopes of never eating again.
I take a deep breath and briefly close my eyes, telling myself that I can do this. When I open them again, I unfold my paper and start to read.
“My name is Emerald Anderson,” I pause, looking at how perfectly the words are written, how they get my point across, but they only paint half the picture.
I crumple it into a ball and sigh. “My name is Emerald Anderson and I’m not going to bullshit you...I just realized that I was alcoholic a few weeks ago, and I’m going to struggle with this for quite some time because I still wake up in the mornings wanting a drink—needing a drink. I’m tempted every day that I go to my current job and I’m honestly shocked that I haven’t snuck a sip yet because it’s way too easy...Way too fucking easy...”
The room is silent.
“I started drinking young, with my mom...She was my everything. Even when she did nothing for me, even when she forgot about the things that were important to me, I still thought she was my everything. I never thought twice about her teaching me how to roll blunts or take a perfect shot as a kid. I loved every second of it and was just grateful to have some of her attention.”
I consider stopping my words right here, right before it gets ugly, but I remember Carter saying that no one will judge me here so I continue.
“I can’t remember a time after I turned fourteen that I wasn’t drinking with her. When I first started, I only needed a shot or two to get me through the day—a quick glass of wine at the end of the night to listen to her discuss her problems, to make her listen to mine...”
Memories of her passed out on our couch flash through my mind—memories of me calling 9-1-1 time and time again because she wasn’t breathing, because her pulse was faint.
“I honestly can’t remember one time that she gave me her undivided attention just because, or a time when she wanted to hang out with me without alcohol. I never realized it before this summer, but alcohol is what kept us together. I’m sure she loved me, but...” I stop. I can’t even finish that sentence.
“When she died—I’m sorry, that’s not completely accurate. When she left me via suicide, that’s when I realized how lonely I was, when I realized that I literally had no one in my life. So, I drank myself into oblivion every chance that I could. Any chance that her face popped into my mind, I drank because that’s how she used to deal with her problems and I thought it would help mine disappear as well.”
The room is completely black now, and the only person in the room is Leah. She’s staring at me, expressionless, and I know my mind is playing tricks on me, but it seems as if she’s really here—as if she’s listening to my every word.
“She taught me that people were unreliable and untrustworthy, and that eight dollars for a bottle of numbness and painlessness was worth much more than any friendship I could ever build.”
