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Post by Jason Irving on Feb 3, 2010 10:55:11 GMT -6
 Sitting on the chair in front of the rather messy desk in the study, Jason was staring intently at the two notebooks in front of him, carefully copying everything from the first into the second, making sure his hand writing was neater than it had ever been in his life. If one was to catch a glimpse of him, they might think that he had a difficult test coming up in one of his tough classes, when in reality he had no tests for at least two weeks. He was simply doing what he could to keep his mind busy because he had found out the busier his mind was, the less he had time to think about the events of the past week, therefore, he spent as much time as possible trying his best to keep himself occupied. At his classes, though he never looked his best anymore, he would pay full attention to the lecture, feeling a slight stabbing sensation in his chest anytime the lecture was about children. When he wasn’t in class, he was interning at the hospital, avoiding the floor with all the newborns, a smile forced onto his face when he went to visit a patient, not letting the parents see how much looking at their children hurt. When he wasn’t putting his all into class or work, he was at home, studying intently, as he was now, or sitting on the couch, completely zoned out. He had found out that when he needed a break from his work, letting his mind simply go blank worked for a little while, at least until it realized it was free to wander. When that happened, he’d go for a run, pushing himself to the point of complete exhaustion, to when he got home, he was literally unable to do anything but sink into the couch or his bed and pass out. And when none of that worked, he’d find himself at the local club, drowning his sorrows in what he thought to be the most disgusting way possible.
And yet he did it. No matter how much he believed that drinking was one of the worst things a person could do, he did it. He had found out once before that there was a point when it came to drinking, where absolutely nothing seemed to sit in his mind for very long and for a little while, he could feel nothing. That point was right on the edge of oblivion, but if he could get there, he would sleep a dreamless sleep that night. That utter numbness was what he aimed for when nothing else worked on getting his mind off of the death of Noah. He would just stay at the house and drink, but he didn’t want to make Ana watch that. She had seen him drink once, and he didn’t really want her to see that again. What sort of example would he be setting for her? Oh, he knew she, too, was drinking; he had seen the wine bottle in the fridge magically refill itself, but he didn’t say anything. Even though she was underage, he understood. Besides, even if he said something, he would be being hypocritical, though regardless, he still was. He hated drinking and the things people did because of it and yet he had managed to get addicted to alcohol once before in his life and when he had gone back to it, it had been like a craving he didn’t know he had that had been satisfied. His addiction was still there, he had just managed to overcome it before with just a few words from Ana, whom at the time, had been his ex.
Looking over at his original notebook, he realized he had actually caught up in copying his notes and he let out a little sigh. With it being a Saturday, he had no class and he had finished up his shift at the hospital earlier that day. All of his homework was finished almost immediately after he got home from class, giving him more of a distraction, and after his two hour run the day before, he was quite sore. He felt like going to look for Ana, but it felt like every time she looked at him, she hurt, and the last thing he wanted to do was make her hurt more than she already was. It looked like the conversation he had had with Widow had been pretty accurate; she had made it rather clear she was completely against marriage and she brought up the possibility of them losing a child and Ana hurting more every time she looked at him. And he had known that that was possible, but it was one of those things he thought would never happen to him, but wasn’t that the way everyone thought about the awful things in life? Shaking his head, he stood up slowly, stretching out of habit and letting his back pop a few times, a slightly bitter look crossing his face as he shuffled out of the study, shutting the door quietly behind him. Hearing the clicking of a dog’s toenails on the floor, he looked down the hall to see his little Australian shepherd trotting up to meet him. “Hey Dash,” he murmured quietly, his voice a bit raspy from not using it for the last few hours. Reaching down, he stroked her little head for a moment before walking down the hall into the living room, Dash on his heels. Glancing around, he saw that Ana was missing, at least from this part of the house and he made his way over to the couch, sinking down into it and letting his dog hop on the leather sofa with him, sighing again as she curled up against him, wagging her fuzzy tail. He couldn’t help but wonder for a moment where Ana’s Great Dane was until he saw a large, black and white blur jump into the pool from where he was sitting on the couch. With that question answered, he let himself zone out, already feeling exhausted, but he knew if he went to bed before midnight, he’d have too much time to think.
It didn’t take long for his mind to start working and with a sigh, the twenty-three year old stood up slowly, careful not to knock Dash off of him. Like most animals, it was like she knew something was wrong and ever since he arrived home from the hospital, she had been extra cuddly, ready to snuggle up with him whenever the chance arrived. Running his hands through his messy hair, he let out a little sigh and walked into his bedroom, rummaging around for his plain black beanie to cover up the hair he hadn’t been taking great care of lately, picking up his wallet and stuffing it into his back pocket on the way out. He headed to the garage, knowing where he was heading and already hating himself for it as he slipped on a pair of black converse. His outfits had lacked their usual spark of personality for the past week and had been rather dull, much like the one he had on now. Walking out the side door instead of climbing into his car, he made sure he had his house keys as he headed down the streets to one of the local clubs; the only one he found appealing. The Mexican themed club seemed like a place to go when one was in higher spirits and the other club that didn’t have half naked women serving beer or strippers wasn’t his type. Not that any of the clubs really were, but it was the only one he would really be seen in. That was one good thing about the location of his house - it wasn’t too far away from the club so he didn’t have the temptation of driving to the club. He had never been one to drink and drive and after he was nearly killed by a drunk driver, that only made his opinion on it even stronger.
When he finally did arrive and walk through the door, he was met with the stench of alcohol. Seating himself on one of the bar stools, he nodded his handsome head at the all-too-familiar bar tender. Every time he stepped foot in here, he hated himself even more as he knew he was doing nothing to help Ana with the loss of their son, but being here fed his addiction and for a little while, let him go completely numb. A relieved little sigh slipped from him as a shot of whiskey was placed in front of him and he let the liquid burn down the back of his throat, ready for the effects of the alcohol to hit him.
____________________( TAGGED ) open! ( WORD COUNT ) 1,474 ( OUTFIT ) click( CAR ) Mercedes Benz( LYRIC CREDIT ) Nick Jonas & The Administration
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