ANNIKA ELLIS - PROMISES

Annika Ellis is a student studying creative writing in Orlando, FL. In her free time, she enjoys playing video games and doing ballet in her living room. You can follow her on Twitter @Ink_Flavored.

PROMISES
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   When Gabriel turned the corner key and opened the door to his apartment, he saw exactly what he didn’t want to see.
    Immediately, the sickening scent of booze assaulted his senses, old and stale, and he kicked a beer bottle on the way in the house. It was empty, but the stain on the carpet suggested it hadn’t been. There were even more bottles when he made his way into the living room, along with open, half-empty wine bottles, an empty fifth of whiskey, and an unopened fifth of vodka that had rolled off the kitchen counter and onto the floor. The mess didn’t make him angry, as most people would be. It terrified him.
   Gabriel picked up the bottle and rushed into the living room, where he saw exactly what he was dreading. His girlfriend, Maggie, drunk out of her mind on the couch.
   Maggie was curled up on one corner of the couch, surrounded by used, crumpled up tissues, sniffling quietly, her head drunkenly lolling to one side. She held a highball glass in one hand and a nearly-full fifth of whiskey in the other. The glass didn’t look like it had been used at all, and Gabriel’s dread turned into horror as she took a swig right out of the bottle. She didn’t seem to notice him.
   “Maggie, what the hell happened?” Gabriel asked, and Maggie jumped.
   “Drinkin’,” she slurred, hiccuping loudly.
    “Why?” he asked, brushing away her tissues and sitting down next to her.
    “I dunno,” she mumbled and brought the bottle to her lips again.
    Gabriel snatched the whiskey out of her hands. “Absolutely not.”
    “G-give it back.”
    “No, I’m not going to give it back, Maggie. Weren’t you supposed to be at AA?”
    “S-supposed to.”
    “What happened? Where did all this booze come from?” Gabriel set the liquor on end of the coffee table furthest away from his girlfriend. Ever since he found out about Maggie’s drinking problem, he stripped the house of any and all booze, and made sure that she didn’t buy any. She’d been going to AA since then, and she promised she wouldn’t ever drink again.
    “When I was leavin’,” Maggie said, “Cindy came first.”
    Gabriel dragged a hand over his face. “Cindy? Is that where all this came from?”
    Maggie nodded and sniffed again.
    “Maggie, I thought you said you made her stay away from you?”
    Without warning, Maggie burst into drunken tears, gripping the front of his shirt and sobbing loudly.
   “Hey, hey, hey, Maggie. It’s okay. I’m not mad at you. I’m not angry, okay?” He wrapped his arms around her and rocked her back and forth. “Everything is okay. I promise. I promise. I’m not angry with you.”
   Either Maggie wasn’t paying attention, or she didn’t hear him. She kept crying into the front of his shirt, gripping it like a lifeline.
    “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”
    He tried to stand them both up, but Maggie wouldn’t budge.
    “Maggie, come on. Let’s get you to bed.”
    She still didn't move.
    Gabriel stood up and tugged her by the arms. “Come on, Mags. You're a mess.”
    Maggie shook her head.
    “You're being a child,” Gabriel said, getting irritated. He pulled her harder, but she still didn't move.
   “Seriously?” he asked. “You need to get cleaned up, and you need to go to bed. Come on.”
   Maggie wiped her eyes, still filled with tears, and pulled her hands from Gabriel’s grip. “No. Nothin’ matters anyway.”
    “Nothing matters?”
    “What’s the point? Why am I even here?”
    Gabriel sat down next to her again, guilty and silent. She’d never talked like this before.
   When he didn’t say anything, Maggie continued, “We all die anyway. Why’s it even worth it to try living happy? Everythin’ goes poof sooner or later.” She made her fingers look like an explosion and dropped her hand heavily.
   Gabriel was silent again, for a moment. Then: “You know why it’s worth it?”
   “Isn’t.”
    “It is. And it’s worth it because I love you.”
    “You die, too.”
    “We all die, Mags. Doesn’t that mean we should enjoy life while we have it?”
    “If we all die, we shouldn’t even try to live.”
    “Maggie.”
    “I don’ wanna live anymore.”
    Gabriel fell silent again. He pulled Maggie closer to him. She didn’t object.
   They sat in silence. Maggie’s sobs eventually coming to an end, replaced by occasional sniffling. Gabriel rubbed her arm, trying to think of something to say.
     “Cindy… didn’ come over,” Maggie mumbled.
     “What?”
    “When you went to work, I —” she coughed wetly “— went to th’ store… and bought these.”
    “It’s okay, Maggie.”
    “I’m s—”
    “No, don’t be sorry. It’s okay.”
     “Why?”
     “It’s okay because you’re not going to do it again.”
     “But—”
    “You’re not going to do it again, because I’m going to help you want to live. I promise.”
     “Okay…”
     “I will. One day, you’ll be happy, and you’ll want to live. And I’m going to help you get there. I promise.”
    Maggie didn’t say anything. Then, Gabriel heard a snore against his chest.
    “I promise,” he whispered into his girlfriend’s hair.
    The five o’clock sun drifted steadily downward, and the light through amber curtains on the living room window painted the couch in a hopeful, golden light.