chapter 8

Elizabeth

I open my eyes. It’s pitch black in the room, the only light coming from a small red dot of a TV on standby. I’m confused, because I don’t have a TV in my room at home. The red display on the alarm clock on the bedside table reads 03:11.

I lift my head and groan as the room spins. Ahhh… why do I do this to myself? I love alcohol, but I detest this part of being drunk.

My stomach churns, and I groan again and push myself up to a sitting position. I recognize the layout of the room—I’m in one of the suites at Huxley’s. I’m shoeless but fully dressed, and lying on top of the covers.

Nausea rises inside me, and I get up and stumble into the bathroom, where I vomit into the toilet. When I’m done, I lurch back into the bedroom, taking off my jacket, trousers, and shirt as I go, leaving them where they drop. In just my underwear, I pull back the duvet, collapse into bed, pull the duvet over my head, and fall asleep.

At 04:16, and again at 05:27, I rise and vomit again. The third ti