Just About Healing
By- Victoria Escobar
Genre- NA Contemporary
My sister was my lifeline, my beacon, my North Star. I could rely on her, depend on her, turn to her when the world was just too hard to face. She could depend on me for the same.
I laughed with her; cried with her; rejoiced her success; and part of me died with her too. I lived for her, loved no one greater than her. Without Savannah, I had no one to turn to, no one to share my soul with. My other half, closer than twins we were, was just gone.
Grief broke my soul and crushed my heart to dust. I didn’t know how to put the pieces back together. I wasn’t sure I even want to without her. How could I live knowing she would never share anything with me again?
Time, supposedly, heals all wounds. I don't believe that. But I do know there are other ways to heal. I just had to find them.
And now an Excerpt from Just About Healing
I lifted myself off the floor and the liquor cabinet in the corner caught my eye. I didn’t drink as a rule, but my self-pity party seemed to call for it and in Scotland it was legal. I stood and crossed to the cabinet and opened it up. I picked up the first bottle to catch my eye. It was a red, sherry like color. And not yet opened. I’d have to ask Mr. McKenna later how much it would cost to repay him, no, I’d just replace the bottle myself.
I pulled a shot glass from the shelf, unsealed the bottle, and poured my first glass. That burned like hell fire going down. I coughed and my eyes watered badly. I wasn’t going to piss out at one glass. I poured a second and tossed that back too.
More than half the bottle of scotch later found me sitting on top of the castle wall via the stairs this time. Although I couldn’t quite tell anyone how I managed to get up there. I vaguely recall stumbling across my back yard. Didn’t matter really, I was wedged in good and tight. There was no way for me to fall. The cool air felt good on my too hot skin.
“Evelyn? Is that you up there?”
I carefully looked down. “Aye. It’s me. And who would you be?” I laughed drunkenly at my own words. I think I saw Tristan, Kyle, and Malcolm coming out of the dark.
“Gads. You’re buggering blootered aren’t you?” Tristan asked. If I had half a mind left I would have noticed – possibly - his hesitation at approaching the wall and wondered on it. As the current situation stood, the only thing I noticed was an interruption to my pity party.
“How did you get up there?”
“Watch the liquid in the bottle shrink. Oh, what fun to drink a drink.” I toasted him with the bottle and took another swig then I gestured in the general vicinity of the stairs. “Stairs are there around the wall. Take close care, else you’ll fall.” I snickered at myself and took another swig. It was hilarious that I was a better poet than I was a painter at the moment.
About the Author-
Born in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, but with the ability to claim eight states as home; Victoria Escobar writes fiction from her current home in New York. She writes whatever comes to mind and because of such has a variety of genres written including Young Adult, New Adult, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy, and Contemporary Fiction.
In spare time if not with family, and friends Victoria enjoys curling up with a book from a favorite author with music playing. If not reading or writing she spends time drawing, sketching, crocheting, or some other random art project. She enjoys staying busy, but most of all enjoys staying creative.
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