FINN THOMPSON
“Ihave no idea what’s happened since last year and now, but this isn’t a paper up to the standard I was expecting, Finn,” my professor states as I stand at the edge of his desk.
My stomach twists painfully at his words. I thought I was catching up and finally bringing my grades to where they’re supposed to be. Now I feel like I’m back at square one.
“Can I redo it?” I ask desperately.
Everything inside my chest starts to crumble at his words. Everything I’ve been working so hard for. What has gone wrong? I don’t understand.
I lower my head in defeat, unable to hold his gaze for a second longer. “Alright.” I nod solemnly. “Thanks.”
Without another word, I turn and leave his office as fast as possible. He calls out my name, but I choose to ignore him. The conversation probably wasn’t over on his end, but it was on mine.
There’s not a single thing in this world I’m good at. So what’s the fucking point in anything?
Shit partner. Shit father. Shit future.
A burden. That’s what I am.
I’m a fucking burden to everything and everyone around me.
There’s a text from JJ on my phone, asking to meet up for lunch before my afternoon classes, but I decide I’m not going to those. I can’t bring myself to sit there when my head is overflowing, and I’m on the brink of a breakdown.
I’ll never be an academic. I’ll never get the top grades in class. I’ll never be anything good. How could I ever support my family?
I ignore his message and turn my phone off. For a long while, I sit in my car and stare at the wall ahead of me. I’m filled with a thousand emotions, but they make me feel numb.
My eyes close as my heart starts to pound aggressively.
Worthless. No one. Worthless. No one. Worthless. No one.
I drive around town with these thoughts lingering until I’m nearly screaming and tugging at my head for them to stop. But they don’t. They keep going and going and going until my ears are nearly bleeding. I could break down in tears and beg them to stop.
Everyone is better off without me.
All I’ll do is disappoint them.
God, I’d do anything to get these thoughts to evaporate. Even for five minutes. They’re loud and obnoxious and make everything turn fuzzy. I don’t know how long I drive for, all I know is I end up parked outside a pub on the other side of town.
My fingers flex on the steering wheel as I stare up at the building with hooded eyes. The breaths I start to inhale become raspy and desperate. For a split second, there’s a voice in the back of my head telling me not to do it and go home, but it’s not loud enough.
It’s stomped out by the intense need to drown these thoughts away. It’s the only thing that’ll help. It’s the only thing that’ll make it stop.
Without a second thought, I rip the keys from the ignition. I’m not thinking anymore, I’m letting my needs take over. I press my hand to the door of the pub and step inside.
It’s quiet, and the scent of beer floods my nostrils within moments. The guy behind the bar gives me a nod as I stand there scoping the place out. I should be screaming at myself to go home, but the pain is too much, and my resilience is too low.
My feet start to move until I take a seat at the bar and hop up onto one of the beaten stools.
“What can I get ya?” the bartender says as he slings a tea towel over his shoulder.
For a long moment, I stare back at him, fingers starting to itch as the hole in my heart grows hollower. I’m here now. I’ve already given up, and there’s no turning around.
He watches me and tilts his head, waiting for an answer.
“Jack Daniels, neat,” I murmur.
“Coming up.”
I fidget in my seat and study him eagerly as he makes my drink in a small glass with ice.
The second he places my drink down in front of me, I can smell it, which has my heart racing.
I pay and stare at the honey-coloured liquid inside.
My fingers wrap around the glass, and I twirl it around, listening to the sound of the ice.
It’ll make you feel better.
It’ll take away your pain.
It’ll make you forget.
I raise the glass to my lips and tilt it back an inch until it touches my tongue and my lips. My eyes close instantly at the first hint of how smooth yet smoky it tastes. Something happens in my brain, some kind of chemical reaction that has me humming and my shoulders drooping.
After a while, I lower the glass, realising what I’ve done.
I stare blankly at the wall. I’ve lost them now. I’ve lost everything.
So what’s the point of holding back? I’m a failure and always will be.
I knock back the rest of the drink as it burns the insides of my throat, slipping through my nervous system until I’m physically shaking. I drop the glass to the counter as my chest starts to heave.
Every vein inside me starts to hum as the alcohol passes through my blood. I lick my lips and drop my head into my hands as the tears start rolling.
Images of Maya and Skye flash in my head, and I flinch at the instant guilt that starts to wash through me. I did the one thing I said I wouldn’t for a second of relief.
That instant craving for more grows inside me. It’s in my system, and I need it.
“Fuck,” I curse.
I sniffle and wipe my hand over my face to find my palms stained with tears.
“Another?”
My eyes remain low as I clear my throat. I nod to the bartender and allow my life to slip away so I never feel this much again.