Chapter 7

              Jason Pov

I walk through the door and see Kimberly sitting there on the couch with her legs folded underneath her.

She looks over at me as I walk past her, going to my room to change clothes. 

I take off the jeans and slide on a pair of shorts. I look into the mirror, looking at myself. I reach up, running my hand through my hair. I can barely recognize myself. I guess my looks match the way I feel inside because I no longer feel like myself inside either.

I leave the room going into the kitchen to put my signature stamp on my day. I grab a bottle of Remy Martin out of the cupboard and head back into the living room. I look at Kimberly sitting on the other end of the couch with her legs folded under her. I take a seat on the couch, putting my legs up on the table, looking over at the tv, not really caring what movie it's is that's playing. I never really pay much attention to the tv while I drink. I just use the sound of the tv to help push away the depressing silence.

I twist the cap off the bottle and take a gulp, patiently waiting for everything to fade away. 

Before all of this, I wasn't a fan of drinking. I never understood why someone would put this disgusting poison into them, but now I understand, it helps. It helps make your everyday problems disappear. You become an emotionless shell. No pain, no anger, no worries, just nothing. And that's what I want. I want to feel nothing.

I take another gulp of the liquor, feeling the liquid burn the back of my throat as it makes its way down. I sit here looking at the tv, taking sip after sip. I take short pauses before bringing the bottle back to my mouth for another sip.

As I drink from the bottle, out the corner of my eye I see Kimberly keep looking over at me. 

"If you have something to say then say it, otherwise stop staring upside my head." I continue to look at the tv, taking another sip from the bottle, not looking over at her.

"You shouldn't drink that stuff so fast." She says.

I let out a sigh. "Keep your opinions to yourself." I look over at her, taking another sip from the bottle in my hand. She needs to worry about herself and just watch tv like she did yesterday night while I drank.

"You're the one who just told me to say what I had to say, otherwise stop staring upside your head, so I did." I guess I did tell her to say what she had to say, but I didn't really mean for her to say anything. I just wanted her to stop looking upside my damn head every time I drink from the bottle. 

"Well, your opinion isn't wanted or needed." I have enough people telling me what they think and I don't care. They all can take their opinion and shove it up their ass.

"Fine, I was just saying." She frowns a little looking back over at the tv.

"And I'm just saying keep your opinion to yourself because you don't know anything about me to tell me what I shouldn't and should do." I take another sip from the bottle, starting to feel the effects of the liquor a little. 

I hear a sound come from her as if she got something else to say. "What does that little hmph sound suppose to mean?" I ask looking over at her, frowning a little.

She looks over at me for a second. "Nothing." She shakes her head, looking back over at the tv. I could see that she was about to say something, but decided against it.

I take another sip from the bottle, looking over at her. She doesn't know me at all so what could she possibly have to say. "If you have something to say then say it," I say curious to know what she could have to say since she doesn't know anything about me. As she said, I could be a psycho rapist for all she knows.

 "You tell me to say what I have to say, then turn around and tell me to keep my opinions to myself. So it's nothing." She says shaking her head a little as she continues to watch the tv.

"You don't know me so what could you have to say?" I want to hear what she has to say, but honestly, I could care less.

"You're right, I don't know anything about you. But being a psychology major it's not hard for me to see that you're using that as a coping mechanism." She looks at the bottle, before looking back at me. 

I frown a little, looking at her. "Just because I'm drinking that means I have to be using it as a coping mechanism? Yeah, fucking right." Just because she took some stupid class doesn't mean she knows anything about me. I don't need alcohol to cope. I choose to drink because I want to, not because I have to. "Is there anything else you think you know about me just because you took some stupid class?" I asked taking another sip, feeling everything slowly starting to fade away. 

She just looks at me for a second as if she's think of what to say. "You have this I don't care about anything attitude. You drank last night at a fast pace and now you're doing it again, drinking at a fast pace as if you're trying to rush the effects of the liquor, maybe to wash your problems away." 

I hold back a growl, not liking the way she just picked me apart. "You don't know shit about me." I glare over at her sitting on the other end of the couch.

"You're the one who asked and told me to say what I had to say, so don't go getting pissed at me." She glares back at me, not submitting under my glare as a she-wolf would.

I take in a breath, calming myself. "I'm not pissed. You don't know anything about me so what you say really don't matter." I take another sip from the bottle, not caring about what she thinks she knows. "Why don't you use those psychology skills and solve your own damn problems, because it's clear that you have some." I don't need to be a psychology major to see that she have problems of her own. "So don't sit here judging me when you have problems yourself. For all I know you probably need this bottle way more than me." I say looking back over at the tv. 

How the fuck is she going to call out my problems when she has problems herself. But unlike her, I don't go around worrying about other people and their problems. Maybe I shouldn't have asked her what she had to say. Maybe I should've never even brought her here, to begin with. 

She let out a sigh. "I'm sorry if I came off as judgmental, that wasn't my intention. I wasn't judging you, Jason. I was just saying you shouldn't drink so fast. But you're right I don't know you and I probably shouldn't have said anything. I tend to talk too much even when I know I shouldn't say anything." She pauses for a few seconds. "Can I try some?" She asks.

I frown a little seeing her looking at the bottle in my hand. I look at the bottle for a second before holding it out to her and watch her lean forward, taking it from my hand. She takes a sip from the bottle and starts to cough. She gasps a little, holding the bottle out for me to take. I remember reacting the same way when I first had a drink.

She shakes her head. "That stuff is freaking disgusting. My freaking throat is burning." She says once she stops coughing. She sticks her tongue out as she rubs her throat, trying to get rid of the burning. "How do you drink that?" She asks frowning.

"I don't drink it for the taste, but for the feeling. I guess you get used to it after a while." I look at the bottle in my hand for a second before taking another sip from the bottle, feeling myself slowly becoming numb to the world.

"How does it make you feel?" She asks with a raised brow. It's clear that she doesn't drink. She probably never had a drink a day in her life until now.

I look at her for a second. I never talked to anyone about this. I normally sit here alone and drink until I feel nothing. "Empty I guess." I don't know if it affects everyone the same, but after I've had enough I feel nothing. The effects of the liquor only last about an hour or so before my high body temperature burns it off, but by that time I'm passed out drunk, then wake up in the morning like I never had a drink.

She looks at the bottle in my hand with a raised brow. "Can I try some more?" She asks.

I hand her the bottle again and watch as she takes a sip and starts to cough again. "That's horrible and strong." She frowns, swallowing, looking at the bottle in her hand, shaking her head, not wanting anymore. "I don't think I can get used to that." She hands me back the bottle, frowning at the burning sensation from the liquor.

I take the bottle from her hand, taking a sip, enjoying the burning in the back of my throat as the liquor makes it's way down. I lean my head back resting it against the couch, watching tv, sipping from the bottle, feeling empty.