Dramatic Monologue- Alone ( a short story)

It was a lonely Friday night. The rain was pouring hard, thrashing against my dark window. It fit my mood perfectly. No one had even bothered to talk to me or call me. Alone.

I remember that moment I took my first sip. I regret it to this day. I wouldn’t have done it if I would have known that it would have ruined my life, my reputation, my family then I would have thought twice about doing it. But there I was, in my favourite old scruffy jumper and my worn out legging sat slumped on the sofa, wiping the tears from my eyes. I glanced up and it was sat there looking at me, whispering for me to take it. I took a deep breath and slowly walked over, my heart beating fast and thoughts racing through my head. I grabbed it, opened it and brought the bottle to my mouth, it burnt my lips. Nonetheless I took a gulp and instantly gagged at the taste. A strange sensation came over me and I felt this amazing feeling of being reborn. My lips were drawn to the bottle like a magnet, and I kept going until the whole bottle had gone- I felt blissfully dizzy. The important thing was the pain had gone. For now anyway.

Each day dragged until I was finally reunited with the luscious liquid. My best friend. She never judged me, she always made me feel good inside, unlike so many things…especially Alan. My stepdad. Awful Alan. My mum would never understand why I hate I hate him, I wouldn’t dare tell her anyway. Im too scared. Alan told me it was a secret between me and him. Have you got a secret that you couldn’t tell anyone? Not even your own dear mother?

Alan used to do things to me, terrible things. He told me I was no longer pure. No longer innocent. I had lost my childhood. I was forced against my own will. But what could I do? I was a helpless child forced to be a woman.

Every night he would take advantage, my mother would go to work and that’s when awful Alan would strike. I cried myself to sleep every night. My new friend in the bottle made me forget, made me feel happier, and made me feel alive.

A month had passed and just like every other alcoholic I didn’t think I had a problem, but of course I was hooked.

Saturday night, the smell of cooked pepperoni pizza filled the house- mum and Alan were having a night it on the sofa watching x factor, whilst I was in my room staring into space, feeling weighed down by the life I wasn’t living.  I was dead on the outside but on the inside a wicked smile appeared on my face because I knew they were there and not just one this time, oh no this time it was four bottles, 1 litre each. I cautiously but eagerly crawled along my bed when all of a sudden my mum rushed in, an emergency at the hospital, she told me Alan would take care of me. I felt a lump in my throat when you try and swallow a tablet without water. The tears were gushing from my eyes as she kissed my forehead and told me she loved me.

As the front door slammed I could hear the creak of the stairs as the vile pig approached my room, I hurriedly ran to lock my bedroom door.  Before I knew it the door had flung open with the gold lock swinging from side to side. After 20 minutes I felt dirty and sick to be alive, he left smiling. The tears were flooding from my eyes, I reached over and seized the bottles. One by one I guzzled the lot. My head felt strange and not a nice strange this was something I couldn’t understand. I could feel myself floating. I was looking down on myself. I could see my mother crying, Alan was nowhere to be seen, I could hear the steady beeps of the heart machine. The sound was fading as the beeps got slower and slower.

Once again I was alone.