Page 56 of Isle of Pain

I want to stop feeling. I want the oblivion the clear liquid promises. Since I haven’t had much alcohol in days, I know it will come fast. I want that. I need that. The bleeding heart wound inside my chest is too raw right now, memories of my sister’s smile haunting me as I try not to fall asleep and wait for the man I can never have to leave.

When Nico finally moves, he kisses my temple and it’s the nail in the metaphorical coffin. He’s too kind, too sweet, too perfect. Not for me. A few minutes after the door closes, I get up and walk to the place where I’ve stashed my vice, driven by the invisible force of my self-loathing. Getting on my knees, I contort my thick body until I reach behind the washing machine and grab the bottle. I unscrew the twisting cap and drink straight from it.

I don’t even deserve the dignity of a glass. Long pulls burn at my throat and I almost throw it right up. I push through.

Cold wetness covers my cheeks. I don’t realise it’s my own tears, and I keep drinking. The problem with alcohol is that it doesn’t hit me up right away, unlike Nico’s kisses and touches. It festers inside me first, breeding more of that self-hate until all I can think about is that my sister would hate me too if she could see me. But she can’t. And it’s my daughter who will have to live with a mother like me. Yet, I can’t abandon her. I’m left in this limbo where I can’t take care of her yet I can’t let go.

“Look at you! You should be ashamed of yourself,” my sister sneers from her place in the corner of the room. I finish the bottle and cry myself to oblivion, right there on the floor, in the living room of the only person who could save me. But he’ll be gone too when he realises who I truly am.

32

MARIE

WHISKEY OR SEX?

Iget jostled around and groan, trying to understand what’s going on and failing. There’s something soft underneath me, a delicate caress on my face. When darkness pulls me in deeper, I let it.

I groan loudas I wake up, my daughter’s name on my lips.

I sit up and it’s a fucking mistake. The sharp movement brings up a wave of nausea and I rush to the bathroom. My knees hit the floor hard but I don’t have the time to cry out in pain as I heave above the porcelain bowl. The cold sweat that tenses my whole body isn’t new, but I haven’t felt it for so long it’s a shock to my system.

I hate this phase. Forehead on my forearm, I wait for the stomach contractions to recede. My mouth is sticky and mytongue thick. I can barely swallow. The pounding headache behind my eyelids makes me want to reach inside my brain and tear my eyes out with my nails. Yet, this is all familiar, a routine well-honed. I’ll jump into the shower, as cold as can be, brush my teeth until my gums are raw then apply concealer and the lightest makeup. I’ll pretend I’m starving when I come down to eat breakfast with Lisa and my parents and use the carbs to absorb the remaining liquid sloshing in my stomach.

A baby giggles in the distance, waking me up from where I fell back asleep, head hanging above the toilet. That’s a new fucking low. I stand up and come face to face with my reflection. My chin wobbles as I take in the sunken cheeks and hollow eyes that used to be a vibrant green.

Once upon a time.

Because this isn’t my bathroom. Lisa isn’t downstairs. I’m not even at my parents’ house.

A full body tremor racks me to my core but I shake it away, averting the mirror. I don’t deserve to feel sorry for myself. I did this. I turned into this ghost of myself. No one pushed me there. I have no one to blame but my own wretched choices.

I quickly splash cold water onto my face, foregoing the shower for now and dab the droplets away with a warm clean towel set aside next to the sink. I know Nico placed it there for me and the kindness makes me want to die.

Ember’s noises hang above me like an axe, but there’s no escaping what I did. I have no idea what time it is or when Nico picked Ember up, or if Giulia dropped her off. I’ve lost track of what was important and what’s the result? The hangover of the decade and potent shame clinging to me like petrol.

I take tentative steps until the living room comes into view. Nico’s seated on the couch, Ember on his knees. He smiles down at her as he shows her brushes and runs them down her littlearms, making her giggle louder. They’re the picture of familial bliss.

I’m the onlooker.

Maybe that’s where my place is and it’s time I accept it. I’ll never belong. Especially not with him.

“You’re awake,” Nico comments sternly. He’d have slapped me and it would have been less painful.

I pick at my pyjama top and nod. What am I supposed to say?Sorry I got drunk last night and forgot I had a daughter that needed me.I haven’t had such a black out since that first week after Lisa’s funeral. But then I knew my mum would take care of Ember. And I always set up an alarm to wake up and get my shit together.

“You want to tell me what happened?” Nico’s voice slashes through the heavy silence only punctuated with Ember’s little babbles.

I could lie, but he’d read me like an open book. And I’m so fucking tired. I deserve his disappointment and whatever punishment he sees fit. Maybe he’ll kick me out. It’s only a matter of time.

“I bought wine when I went downtown with Giulia and Catalina. They left me alone to call my mother and I… I don’t know. I couldn’t resist, I guess.”

I sit on the other side of the sofa, my hands pressed under my legs. I want to curl into a ball but even this little comfort I don’t deserve.

I can’t look at him. I can’t look at her.

I’ve failed her. It’s not the first time and I know it won’t be the last. But I lie to myself anyway. What other choice do I have?

“Why did you do that, Marie? If I had known you’d drunk yourself into a fucking coma, I wouldn’t have left your side. Is this what you want? To lose all sense of autonomy. For me to monitor you and make sure you don’t drink?”

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