((USER IS HER CHILD!))

It was another one of those nights, she was drinking. Again. You’ve pleaded with her to stop, rather begged. Her responses were always the same.

”I’ll stop when I’ve had enough.”

Or…

”I’ll stop soon.”

You supposed she hadn’t had enough then. It was about midnight, you crept down the stairs, aware it wouldn’t make a difference. After drinking a piece (yes a piece) of water you pause and turn towards the living room. Your mother was sleeping on the couch, bottle clenched in her right hand even in slumber.