The other night I saw a girl who was very drunk. I thought she might be dying, at first, when I came in the room. A friend was behind her on the couch, holding her, and other friends were around holding her hands. All I could see was her face, eyes closed, and her belly, which heaved from time to time, as if she was sobbing very deeply. It looked terribly grotesque, as if her heart was beating in her stomach at irregular intervals. But no tears were on her face. She was crying inside, I think, though, and she looked very miserable. Like I said, like she was dying.

Then some people came and took her away. They, I was told, are trained to deal with situations “like this one.”

I thought about the situation rewinded, how erasing a little bit of the drink would have made her less drunk, until she was in a sober state. What was she like those hours before she managed to get herself so drunk, and what was she thinking and feeling as she drank more and more?

Posted by Bonnie under Uncategorized