Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Message in a Bottle

Custom User Avatar
More by this author
She couldn’t believe it. How had she got herself into this state again? It was the middle of the night, not that she knew it, each minute rolled into an hour, everyday seemed to blur into one horrendous mess. A scalding tear rolled down her face as she took yet another swig from the virtually empty bottle that lurked close beside her. She clumsily wiped away the salty ocean rivers that stalked her face. Although the bottle was nearly empty, this was not enough to numb the pain that pulsated within her. It was as if with every beat of her heart that the toxic feelings spread round her body and invaded her defenceless soul. There was a deep ruthless ache that no amount of alcohol seemed to be able to touch. There was the intense struggle of the war between her head and her heart that was relentless and unforgiving. She wasn't living anymore, she was existing was barely even able to contend with that. She was drowning in a world of hate and poison and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

She rolled over restlessly as she tried to sleep only to meet the other side of her tear sodden pillow. Her arch enemy insomnia was awakened and sneered as it festered within her. Gemma didn’t have to sleep to have a nightmare, she was living in one. Her days had been darkened ever since her heart was taken hostage by the hold of another. Imprisoned within her own mind she was condemned to forever lie awake with constant turmoil and thoughts of the one who had captured her soul. She was an empty shell of her former self, nothing but a void, it was as if he had come into her world and caged all the life that she had within her never to return it. Night after night and day after day she would search hopelessly in any bottle she could find for the person she used to be. There was no way out for Gemma, she was trapped in the never ending cycle of pain and numbness which would sometimes happen at once in a chaotic collision. The voice in her head would tell her that she wasn’t worth it, that there was no point to anything anymore. Every single night without fail in the same routine it would taunt her with the same old chant. Give up. Give up. You know what you need to do, no one loves you. Give up. Give up.

At first the vodka would burn as it trickled down her throat, she didn’t mind the pain, but after a while she didn’t even notice. She would drink anything that she could get her hands on in the hope that it would ease the pain even a little but there was never enough. All she had ever felt was the pain that infested her bleeding heart and with every beat this agony would circulate through her veins. She would cry until it felt like her heart would burst and the mascara would blacken her sheet white face like innocence corrupted by unthinkable evil. She was trapped in the deafening silence that was her life, nobody knew and nobody cared. Every inch of her being would call out for help but no sound would ever come out, there was nothing left, she was empty. Whenever Gemma looked in the mirror, which wasn’t often, she couldn’t recognise what had become of herself. This reflection was a stranger; this monster didn’t even look human. The space where her eyes should be had been replaced by glassy and soulless pits. Her gaunt ghost-like face startled her every time she saw it. Day by day things would get worse, she was in a downward spiral with no hope of return.

She needed help, she knew that. There was nowhere to run and no escape from the living nightmare. There was no answer in the any of the bottles that she had tried. She hadn't found her antidote; she was running out of time as the poison overtook her. Gemma had reached a point of desperation that she had hoped she’d never meet.



Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback