I remember when I first became addicted to her. She came into my life when I was at a particularly low point. I had just lost a high-paying job as a magazine editor, I was on the verge of eviction, and my girlfriend of a year and a half had left me for one of my friends. Needless to say, I was craving an escape. An outlet. Something to take my mind off the pain. I was in a bar when I first met her. She was everything that I was looking for. She made me feel carefree, like the rules of life didn't apply to me. I felt braver, I felt stronger. I felt like for the first time in awhile I was having fun. She begged me to come back and see her at the same time I had that night. In the morning, I felt a little sick, but in the end it was worth it. I felt better for the first time in months. I went to the bar again the next night, and there she was, waiting for me like always. I was thirsty, and she was a tall glass of water. She was refreshing. Again, I felt the effects immediately in her presence. After that night, I knew that I had to keep going back. I met the same girl in the bar almost every night. Pretty soon, I stopped caring about my needs and everyone else. I didn't care about working anymore, she was my priority. It didn't matter where I lived; I practically lived in the bar with her. That was where I started to hit rock bottom. My family found me and they told me how worried they were about the path that I was taking. How I was ruining my life by being with her. I became angry. They had no idea what kind of hell I had been going through. How did they know what was good for me. All I needed was her. I knew that she would always be there when I needed her, unlike so many people in my life. I told them to leave me alone, that I knew what was good for me. They eventually stopped coming around, but I didn't mind. I still had her. I would do anything to get a chance to see her. I started to lose my memory, my sense of time, and everything else that came along with her. I stumbled my way into the bathroom of the bar and looked at myself for a long time in the mirror. I hardly recognized myself. The man in the mirror had a beard and hair that was messy and unkempt, he had put on a massive amount of weight around the stomach, and he smelt horrible. I couldn't believe what I saw. It was at that moment that I had to get rid of her. I didn't want her to be the death of me. I decided to stop coming around the bar to see her. I told her that we had to stop this, that this would only lead to more hurt and destruction. She was clearly upset, saying that I couldn't live without her. She said that I would come running back to her to get away from the pain soon enough. I left soon after, called up my family, and told them that I was finally done messing around with her and I was ready to get help. The first few weeks without her were horrible. I felt really sick. I would throw up, cry, and fall asleep. When I woke up, the same cycle would repeat itself. My head throbbed and I felt hot and cold at the same time. I wanted so badly to run back to her, to take the pain away. But my family was there, and they were my rock while I was getting over her. In the end, their love and support finally helped me move on from her. I was able to think clearly and see that the relationship we had was toxic and nothing good would have come out of it if I had continued on the path I was on. Today, I'm happy to say that it's been two years since I have had anything to do with her and I have found a new purpose in writing, and I have a beautiful home, with a supportive wife and a child on the way. The last time I saw her was at a bar with my friends a month ago, who were celebrating my book getting published. I simply smiled and continued chatting and laughing with my friends. At the end of the night, as I turned to leave, I gave her one last look and smiled. With a sigh, I turned back around and, as the lights turned off, shut the door behind me.

#addiction #shortstory #alcohol #writer #writers #fiction #longstory #longstories #long #writing #prose #prosechallenge #challenge #stories #newwriter

Dear Journal,

I never thought in a million years that it would happen. I had always been careful to make sure tht she didn't take any extra, because it would mean a higher chance of her getting selected. I had been so careful. I had sacrificed my chances in order to protect her. I broke laws to make sure that my family was fed, but it hadn't been enough. With one entry, she had been selected, and I had no choice but to throw myself into the lion's den instead of her. I had to, there was no way she would have survived. After all, this was the same girl who, when we were hunting, cried and tried to bring a squirrel back to life after I had killed it for food once. Now I am risking never seeing her again. I know I won't. After all, some of the most vicious Careers are coming in and the only advantage I have is my skill with a bow and arrow. I'm worried sick about my sister, and I'm worried sick about my mom. What if she shuts herself away from the world again? I won't be there to pick up the slack. Hopefully, my best friend will be able to support them as well as his own family. It's alot to ask, but he says he doesn't mind. The only thing he asked is that I come back alive. I can only hope. I think the weirdest thing that happened today, was when the boy tribute came up. I hope he doesn't remember, but the way he shook my hand says otherwise. He held on a little longer than I would have liked before letting go and turning to face the crowd. I thought he would say something, considering I owe him so much for saving me from starving to death. Maybe he will be useful to me in the arena, or maybe he's just trying to gain sympathy from me. Either way, I will keep my friends close and enemies closer. I'll have to if I want to get home to my mother and my sister. I just hope I won't have to stay long. I have to go now. I have to meet my mentor and fellow tribute to discuss how to stay alive in the arena.

Sincerely,

Katniss E.

#hungergames #catchingfire #mockingjay #dystopian #fantasy #teenfiction #fiction #suzannecollins #alternateuniverse #journalentry #diaryentry

I'd had a long day. After sitting through eight hours of class and four hours of work, I was dead tired. You wouldn't believe the amount of BS that I had been put through. From getting an F on my Chemistry exam to getting screamed at by my boss for putting more than six olives on a customer's Subway sandwich, I was pretty damn tired, to say the least. I decided that after the day I had, I was going to find some happiness. Happiness being watching Netflix. As I drove home, I couldn't think of anything better than watching a new episode of Black Mirror, or rewatching the season four finale of Orange is the New Black. Which is why as I threw open the door of my house, I was happy to sit back on my couch and open my laptop, barely stopping to take off my jacket and shoes. I quickly typed in my email and password, sat back, and waited for the home page to load. When I opened my eyes, I was shocked by a message:

"Email and/or password do not match our records." What?

I retyped my email and password slower, and clicked 'Enter'. Nothing. I retyped it AGAIN, this time even slower. Nothing. I continue this for ten minutes until I come to the bitter realization that I have to reset my password. It is then that I realize: there's nothing more painful than having to reset your Netflix password.

#netflix #humor