They deserve it all.

Her

Hi, I hope the last chapter was okay. I would love to say that this chapter is better or nicer or whatever, but unfortunately it's not. This one always has quite the amount of TWs as well, such as: overdosing, alcohol useage, drugs, mentionings of self harm and suicide. I hope this helps.

16-10-22

The next day it was Saturday, my mother was passed out again, this time in the bathroom, she had vomited, not caused by wine, that bottle was empty already, but by another clearer drink. It seemed much more delicious, much more innocent, like intoxicating water, bottled in a mason jar, a glass next to it.

'Moonshine', it said, and only with the name did it lure itself right upon my lips. I took a sip, and an earthy taste entered my mouth, it ran over my tongue and down my throat. It burned a little at first, then it didn't.

I took another sip, this time it tasted more like spice and vanilla, like notes of oak with such a robust and rich flavor. The only reason I kept drinking, was because of the third sip, it then tastes like a breath of fresh air, it made me feel lighter than the wine did, made me feel without troubles, like I was swimming in a river filled with starlight and I could breathe under water, and every breath I took was better than the last.

I passed out that night, woke up in the hospital. Apparently I blacked out, something people do when they drink too much, I vomited and had a minor seizure. My mother awoke at the sight of me with an empty glass next to me,I had vomited on the couch, on the rug and on myself as the bathroom was taken.

I was laying there with my eyes open, my senses so dulled that I couldn't remember anything, even my breathing slowed. My hysterical mother took me to the hospital and they helped me.

I was then put under careful monitoring and they had to talk to my mother. She was crying, hangover and drowning in guilt. I could have possibly had brain damage, I could have died of alcohol poisoning, but they needed to see if I was safe to go home.

It was that day, the day I was finally set to rest, that I met someone. She had come in, smiling, walking next to the bed they rolled in. She got comfortable and sat upright on her bed as I laid down. I was staring at the TV, there were no good channels so I couldn't do much but count the pixels I saw as your senses are more heightened when born of Royal blood.

'We'll be roommates for the next week,' she said when the nurses left. Her voice was loud, her tone was chirpy and was she anyone else I would have ignored her or scolded her to shut up. 'We should get to know each other.'

I didn't know what to say, I also didn't understand how I didn't get angry because she had just interrupted my counting. I was at 3587 pixels, and now I had to start all over again.

'I'm Emmaline,' she said as she jumped out of her bed and walked up towards mine. She stuck her hand out, and as I was already interrupted, I looked at her. 'What's your name?'

I shook her hand lightly, seeing the bandages wrapped around her arms. I don't know why, but I was more careful with her, cared more for her injured arms than I did for my mother the 2 years I was with her.

'Willow.'

She jumped up on my bed, making a loud creaking noise.

'Willow!' She said excited. 'What a beautiful name.'

She asked why I was in here, when I told her I had alcohol poisoning, she slapped my hand playfully and squealed.

'Alright, we've got a bad bitch right here!'

She used the term 'bad bitch' in a more encouraging manner. I didn't understand how almost drinking yourself to death would make you a bad bitch, but maybe glorifying really bad stuff helped her. So I just nodded.