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Tequila: Drink Not

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I stopped in my tracks. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Right in front of me sat the evidence of betrayal. ‘How could they do this to me?’ futile thoughts flooded my mind. I stared at the entanglement of my two favourite people in the world—my boyfriend, Tony Wilks, and my best friend since kindergarten, Kat Jacobs. I felt a knife plunge itself into my heart.
Blood oozed internally.
I didn’t know what to do, how to react or how to feel at that moment. Tears automatically welled up in my eyes. I thought I knew those two people like the back of my hand. But I guess I didn’t. Tony?
Was this really the Tony I’ve been with for eleven months? The Tony who said he loved me? The Tony who…I loved back? Then why was he exchanging saliva with my best friend? And even more importantly, why was Kat making out with him?
I couldn’t contain myself anymore. Tears ran down my face and a cry escaped my lips. With guilt and regret on their faces, they spotted me.
I shook my head unbelievably. “This isn’t happening!” I sobbed, before turning around and running off.
“Tequila!” I heard Tony call after me. “Tequila, wait!”
But I was too angry to care if he was running after me or not. Too heartbroken to “try and understand”. He screwed up big time. What kind of messed up thing was that? What kind of messed up person does that? And then he had the nerve to call out my name…
I ran like a maniac all the way home, shrieking as if I was dying. The wind seemed to help me cry; its howls echoed against my eardrums as I raced through the night. I slammed my house door behind me and fell to the floor in tears. Now there were absolutely no good persons in my life.
No one that actually cared.
Officially no one.
Not my mother who got sent away to a rehabilitation centre. Not my dad who doesn’t want a daughter. Not Tony who promised he would never break my heart, and not Kat who stole my boyfriend.
I was just a hopeless piece of crap that no one cared about. I was someone who everyone took advantage of…
Someone who people used and then forgot about…
I was Tequila.
Ironic much?

I woke up the next morning to find myself lying on the couch in the living room. I had a splitting headache and my eyes felt swollen. Obviously, I had cried myself to sleep, not even bothering to go upstairs to my bed. I recalled last night’s incident and the heartbreak returned in a flash. I felt like trash—used, abused and refused. I felt rejected.
Thinking back on my life, I was used to this kind of pain and heartbreak. I was often disappointed and terribly hurt by my alcoholic mother and abusive father who disowned me. I used to find it hard to trust people. Not knowing if they would turn out like my parents and treat me like dirt once I developed the right amount of trust in them. I thought Tony and Kat were different; that I had finally found people who loved me and actually showed some interest, that my days of neglect and rejection were over, that I had good persons in my life to help me to forget about my past and move on.
But hey, I was wrong.
I was played with by my friends; deceived and forgotten.
And to think I actually trusted them.
Foolish me.
Foolish Tequila.
They must be out there somewhere now, laughing and making fun of how I reacted last night. Of how I screamed and cried in dismay. Of how I ran away like a lunatic with tears gushing down my face like a sad stream…
But that was then.
This is now.
Tequila is strong. Tequila will forget about their little “mistake”, if that’s what it was. Maybe they had been fooling around from before last night. Maybe that wasn’t their first make out session…
But Tequila is strong.
I got up and headed to the kitchen. My stomach growled but I doubted that my cupboards held anything edible. My social worker hadn’t brought my month’s groceries as yet and I was positive that I had already eaten absolutely everything. I opened the frail cupboard to find a half-eaten pack of crackers and sighed. That was the only thing I had left—crackers. I pulled it out hungrily though, and checked what my fridge had in store. The egg tray was empty; there was no milk, no bread, and no butter either. There was nothing but water. Awesome. The only thing I had was this nasty bag of crackers.
I took one of the little round tough things out of the bag and popped it into my mouth with disgust but desperation. After all, it was what I had, and it was better than nothing although the quantity was basically estimated to that of nothing.
If mama was here, I wouldn’t even have crackers. She always spent all her money on alcohol, not caring if I was passed out on the floor from starvation. If it wasn’t five bottles of Whiskey, it was a gallon of her favourite drink ever…
Tequila.
That explains my name right?
When my mother was in the hospital after giving birth to me, the nurse inquired a name for the tiny little girl whom she held in her arms. Without hesitation, she said the first thing which came to her mind—Tequila. She definitely wasn’t like normal mothers who would have chosen a name that was somewhere in their historical family line, or a name deemed as cute or even one which was original. Tequila, tequila, that was all my mother lived for. And I’m not talking about myself at all. My ma drank herself to sleep most nights; she drank until she was unconscious every other night. There was never a day that my mother hadn’t fainted. Not one day passed without me waking up to her passed out in the kitchen. Not one day passed without me going to bed after leaving her being intoxicated downstairs. Not one day passed without me yelling at her to stop the drinking.
Not one day…
I headed upstairs to my room. I had no intention of going to school today. I was in condition to do so anyway. My head still ached, my stomach still growled and my heart was still broken.
Sigh. But Tequila was strong.
The last time I had been in my room was last night before I left for the party. I wished I had just stayed home—everything would have been so much better if I had just chosen to be a bum and not attend the party of the century. Turns out I was hardly present there anyway. Did the two minutes I spent gaping at Tony and Kat count? Ugh. The thought of it made me sick.
I lied on my bed and stared up at the ceiling, contemplating upon my sad life. I no longer had anything in my life to look forward to. There would be no more girl nights with Kat, nor any movie dates with Tony. There would be no more laughs between neither of those traitors. My days with them were now over. My life was going to be a drag.
Mediocrity.
Nonsense.
I sat up in my bed quickly, as if an electric shock had just clasped my body. Anger flooded my mind, my heart, my system.
I began to think. I began to analyze. I began to warn my victims in my mind.
“It always takes a lot to know who you can trust the most, but it takes a lot more to trust Tequila after she had been used. In a split second, the tantalizing liquid in that bottle deceives you as it slides down your throat with a peppery undertone that burns your internals. And you look up, thinking sweet Tequila wouldn’t have done that to you. But every sip is even more surprising…so you use her even more, don’t you?
And when you’re through, you dispose of her with a wicked smile shot across your face due to the level of your intoxication.
And you think that Tequila won’t retaliate based on the degree of her usage. But Tequila waits until she’s most deadly to act. Bet you didn’t know that.
Mom, Dad, Tony, Kat. Prepare to be stunned by the effects of my venom. Tequila wasn’t named Tequila in vain.
Tequila is strong. So whatever you do to me…prepare to be moved.
Don’t expect to use Tequila and then live happily ever after…Tequila will destroy you.
For now Tequila knows your weakness.
So, drink up…if you dare.
But if you care…stop drinking.



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