drabble: spirit
Title: Everyday
Author: stttmsbwa
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 300
Challenge/Theme: drabble123; Spirit
Disclaimer: If only, if only.
Summary: Drake can't forget.
A/N: And I'm just warning you. Prepare for 300 words of angsty sadness. And, also? My drabble table is finished. Whoot!
As he tips his head back and downs his shot, Drake clenches his eyes shut and tries his best to stifle the voice whispering in his head.
The one that tells him that getting drunk on a Tuesday night in a seedy bar is probably not a good idea.
But after almost ten years of perfecting the art of disregarding said voice, Drake merely shakes his head and asks for another.
It was one of those nights.
Not one of those nights in specific. Not one where Drake has the date marked on his calendar, has alerts set up to remind him that today is that day that he will never forget.
Because Drake honestly can’t even remember what that specific day is anymore. Because to him, every other day (if not every single one) is the specific day. Because nearly everything reminds Drake of that day.
Everyday is the anniversary. Over and over again.
And then there’s that voice again, mumbling in Drake’s ear about moving on and getting better and hey! it’s not like you didn’t crank out an award winning album filled with songs that are supposed to’ve been therapeutic and emotionally venting, right?
But it doesn’t change the fact that Drake’s still drowning himself in shots of vodka. And that today reminds him of that day. And that there’s still that voice - that spirit - haunting him. And that he’s still only hearing, still not listening.
Sighing heavily, Drake presses the heel of his hand against his forehead and tries to hold back the tears.
Two years and five months and six days ago.
Everyday feels like the day Josh died.
Everyday Drake can feel himself weighed down with the memories and the thoughts and the pain.
He can’t let go. He just fucking can’t.
Author: stttmsbwa
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 300
Challenge/Theme: drabble123; Spirit
Disclaimer: If only, if only.
Summary: Drake can't forget.
A/N: And I'm just warning you. Prepare for 300 words of angsty sadness. And, also? My drabble table is finished. Whoot!
As he tips his head back and downs his shot, Drake clenches his eyes shut and tries his best to stifle the voice whispering in his head.
The one that tells him that getting drunk on a Tuesday night in a seedy bar is probably not a good idea.
But after almost ten years of perfecting the art of disregarding said voice, Drake merely shakes his head and asks for another.
It was one of those nights.
Not one of those nights in specific. Not one where Drake has the date marked on his calendar, has alerts set up to remind him that today is that day that he will never forget.
Because Drake honestly can’t even remember what that specific day is anymore. Because to him, every other day (if not every single one) is the specific day. Because nearly everything reminds Drake of that day.
Everyday is the anniversary. Over and over again.
And then there’s that voice again, mumbling in Drake’s ear about moving on and getting better and hey! it’s not like you didn’t crank out an award winning album filled with songs that are supposed to’ve been therapeutic and emotionally venting, right?
But it doesn’t change the fact that Drake’s still drowning himself in shots of vodka. And that today reminds him of that day. And that there’s still that voice - that spirit - haunting him. And that he’s still only hearing, still not listening.
Sighing heavily, Drake presses the heel of his hand against his forehead and tries to hold back the tears.
Two years and five months and six days ago.
Everyday feels like the day Josh died.
Everyday Drake can feel himself weighed down with the memories and the thoughts and the pain.
He can’t let go. He just fucking can’t.