She locked the door from the inside,And sat herself on the edge of the bed.The surface of her palm sweated profusely under the grip of the tiny bottle she was holding.The dark yet the transperant liquid within didnt look tasty.But does taste matter at this moment.
Looking back on her life, She could see only scars. Scars of pain ripped open very too often.
"I hope its all over soon", She mumbled to herself and gulped the contents of the bottle in one draught..
At first, She didnt feel a thing...then with a pang of pain , her throat burnt and her eyes watered as she frantically supressed the urge to throw up...It was the servant maid who was the first to see in the morning..There she lay sprawled on the floor with drools from her mouth as an empty bottle lay rolling a little distance away from her reach..
The previous night was the first time she boozed,... the first shot of tequila.....the finest brand there is . :)