"Just one more," she said as she poured another drink. This is the sixth time this week, and she can barely find the urge to eat. Five shots later, and her knees are weak she lies under the steaming hot shower with obessive thoughts invading her mind. If only this were a tub I would take a nose dive. Why? you may ask the love of her life is fighting for his life, and not the one that holds her at night. The one that calls her mama.
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