Sober On A Drunk Planet Novels & Stories

Instead, I was thinking about how much fun I was going to have with Sabrina and the girls. Sabrina isn’t drinking tonight because of her pregnancy, and I’ve decided to follow her lead. Sure, the temptation is there. A part of me wants to drown my sorrows in a glass of something strong, to forget about everything for a few hours. But what’s the point? If I drink tonight, I’ll just wake up tomorrow with a pounding headache and the same problems waiting for me. And worse, I’ll probably end up thinking about him again. No, I’m better off staying sober. At least this way, I can enjoy the moment without the added regret. And honestly? I’m having a good time without it. For the first time in weeks,

"Sure. Good deal." "Jimmy, you gotta be sober. That going to be an issue?" "No. I haven't touched anything in more than three weeks and I'm going to keep that up. But maybe we should start Monday. That'll give me a month dry. Sort of a nice, round number. It's not too bad. I just need to sorta get my head straight. I don't want to be flipping out on people here because I want a drink." "Okay. If that's an issue, Big Mike can help. He's my sponsor."

"Remember, there's a thin line between finding solace and drowning in despair." Ignoring his cautionary words, I took another sip, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through my veins. Glass after glass, I continued to drink, seeking oblivion in the haze of intoxication. The world around me became blurred, the voices of other people blending into an indistinguishable murmur. Hours passed, and the effects of the alcohol intensified. My inhibitions dissolved, and I found myself engaging in conversations with strangers, laughter mingling with slurred words. The Sinema Club had transformed into a realm of reckless abandonment, a place where troubles were temporarily forgotten.

I would reject him, find someone else who could give me a normal life, and move on. A pang of hurt rushes through me. I gave up Todd for him, my fated mate. I don’t know what I was thinking … he has me so twisted that I can’t even think straight anymore. The scent of alcohol and sweat hits me like a ton of bricks, making my head spin. I push through the sea of bodies until I reach the bar. My chest is heaving. “5 shots please and another ice tea,” I order from the barman. I tap my fingers on the side as I try to focus on anything else. The bar man brings over the shots as I eye them for a moment before picking up the first one and knocking it back. It’s not a good idea but us wolves need a l

“I want to do this while I’m drunk.” “Why?” “Because I can’t fucking face this while I'm sober.” “So, okay,” I say, thinking that I’m coming up with a brilliant plan. “What about I sober up, and tomorrow night you get drunk and we come back here.” “I’m leaving at sunrise. And I try not to come here if I can help it.”

He tried to send me to some rehab centres but I didn’t want to be admitted because I was too hard-headed thinking that I was fine on my own. I was a complete mess. Until I came to this island, sobered up and tried to clean myself. So far, I am holding up. These past few days in LUAHU, I loved how my mind is at peace and how my body no longer feel that heavy feeling every single time I am high and intoxicated. I no longer felt the need to do drugs because I almost felt like a different person now that I have sobered up.

It was obvious that he was trying to make light of the situation, but I could tell he was hurting, judging by his tight grip on the glass. His reply hit me hard like a ton of bricks, I didn't know what to say. I kept quiet, not because I had suddenly gone dumb, but because I was so shocked someone as great as Dixon would think he was been useless. Dixon filled his glass for the fourth time, he lifted the glass to his lips, but before he could take a sip, he froze. “I shouldn't be drinking,” he muttered, his gaze fixed on the amber liquid. “If I want to do well at the arena tomorrow, I shouldn't be drinking tonight. I don't want to make a fool of myself again tomorrow.” I could hear the confl

My knees were starting to get sore and red and when I was about to groan with discomfort, Samael cleared his throat. "Get up." He ordered loudly. Everybody stood again. I avoided his eyes, trying to keep a low profile, and took a drink to calm my nerves. I felt the intensity of his gaze on me, but I refused to look back. I had drank so much already, my blood would taste more like alcohol than blood. Could you get drunk off that? Drinking someone's blood if they were intoxicated? Did that work like that? Would if they had taken drugs? Oh my God. What if they had taken Viagra? That would be so funny. I'd have to try that.

SAMATHA’S POV. My head hurts lightly, i wasn’t really drunk last night; it was just my normal emotional rush. I did drink, though, but it would take a million barrels of alcohol to get me drunk and a billion to knock me out. I must have exaggerated a bit, but I feel that way every day. I have slowly fallen into depression, and I think I am becoming suicidal too. No one knows about my new identity, but they are treating me like sh*t already. What will they do when they know? I met some of my friends at the bar, and the humiliation was bizarre.

I have a chance at something fucking real in my life and I'm not going to fuck it up over anyone. "Scott, please..." she whispered. I blinked hard, I needed to get my act straight, I needed to get my fucking shit together. I needed to be sober. I walked inside her home and slammed the door behind us. I massaged my temples, "Get me some water, Cindy." She nodded as she made her way to the kitchen and came back with a bottle of cold water. I snatched it from her and drank it. Fuck, I shouldn't have drunk this much.