Whiskey Lullaby Alison Krauss Lyrics の小説・ストーリー

His words help me settle down for a brief second. “What’s the point, Lucas?” I ask him through gritted teeth. “Huh? What is the point of anything anymore?” I shrug him off me and make my way to the one thing I didn’t completely destroy- the bar. I grab a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. I fill them both up to the rim and hand one to Lucas. He hesitantly takes the glass, clearly not in a drinking mood. Fuck it all. I bring my glass to my lips and down it all in two gulps. The liquor burns the back of my throat and I feel my body wanting to reject it, but I need to numb myself from the inside out.

"It's alright....I'm here..." "Y-you yelled at me..." Hollis blurted, crying harder. "I want to help you....don't you get it!? You never...yelled like that before..." The words began tripping over themselves as her vision blurred considerably. Big, fat tears kept rolling down Hollis' flushed face. Burning their agony into her skin. "It hurts...it hurts...give me back my alcohol!" The blonde whined, trying to lean forward so she could yank the glass bottle from Dalton. Whitney held her in place as best she could and glanced up at the two bewildered adults with fear shining in her honey brown eyes. The disabled man shook his head and quietly handed what was left of it to Nina. "Dump it."

“ Meara!” The whispers started again, soft but notable. I tensed, my eyes snapping open. I scanned the field, but there was no one in sight. The sound seemed to come from the tree itself, from the rustling of its leaves. I pressed my palms against the rough bark and closed my eyes, focusing on the whispers. " Come... find... me..." The words were faint but distinct. My heart raced. Was I losing my mind, or was there something more to these whispers? I stood up, brushing the dirt off my jeans, and took a few steps back. The whispers grew louder, more insistent.

(DOLL’S LULLABY) “LA, LA, LA, LA, LA, LA, LA.” She started to sing, humming her favorite lullaby that always marks with the tone of eeriness and dread. Somewhat fulfilling the ambiance of the quiet night under the shade of the bright full moon from outside the chamber of the Crown Princess. Winona stares at its beautiful glow as her mind wonders, pin along and over and over again to the words that made her wish for a thing.

I pressed my lips to Daisy’s hair, rocking until her tremors eased, until her lashes fluttered closed. She slept at last, fever easing to a glow. Relief hit so hard my knees nearly gave. I curled beside her crib, body sagging, eyelids finally too heavy to fight. My last thought, as sleep dragged me under, was one I didn’t dare speak aloud. Why does it still feel like you’re here? --- POV: Luther The whiskey burned, but never enough. I hurled the glass into the hearth. Firelight swallowed it, shards glittering like broken teeth. The bottle followed, amber pooling across the stone floor, the scent sharp as rot.

The whiskey seemed to be playing tricks on his mind, bringing forth the one person he couldn't shake off his thoughts—Lily. The silence in the room was now oppressive, with only the sound of Lewis's breathing and the clinking of the glass breaking the stillness. He took another sip, the liquor burning his throat, but he welcomed the distraction. For a moment, it numbed the pain and the loneliness that had been haunting him.

And that lullaby, he had only heard Arla hum it, once, in that brief window of calm during their short acquaintance. Why would a mountain folk song from Country L, supposedly “taught by a grandmother”, sound identical to Arla’s? Is it her? His mind churned with confusion. And guilt. He remembered how he had tossed her aside, handed her a pill and a black card, not even sparing her dignity. It had been cruel, cold, and inexcusable.

And she couldn’t. Not with a baby on the way. Not with Layla’s name still echoing in town like a goddamn wedding bell. Not after giving him everything and slipping out before morning. “Whiskey Coke and two Buds,” barked a regular, slapping a twenty on the counter. “You got it, Jake,” Alli replied, pouring without missing a beat. The bar top was sticky, her feet ached, and sweat slicked the back of her neck from the busted AC unit behind the bar. But she preferred it this way.

And he'll drink, he'll fall, get up and start drinking again Only with a lot of sacrifice he gets home in the morning Until then, it's okay, but it's every day, yes, another one too And all this is the fault of the Devil Woman Who pursues me at night everywhere But if it wasn't for the horn and the tail I wouldn't be able to stand it She walks away leaving the drunks behind And the trail of chaos, of destruction You look at this boy, devastated, unable To think of any other solution And he'll drink, he'll fall, get up and start drinking again Only with a lot of sacrifice he gets home in the morning Until then, it's okay, but it's every day, yes, another one too And all this is the fault of t

I just lay there, heavy and warm, letting the alcohol pull me under. I heard a small sound maybe a gasp but it felt far away. Probably nothing. Just the whiskey playing tricks. I turned my head slightly, cheek pressed against the pillow. “Julian…” I whispered, voice rough and dark, almost too quiet to hear. Then everything went black.