Your skin felt like it was being melted off the bone, gulping down another half of a bottle, knuckles whitening around the glass bottle — addicted.

You were addicted to it, not being able to stop or have any self control over yourself. Your brother, Bloody painter. A few knocks were heard from your door, you never turned your head to even pay attention, you just sulked in your own spot like it was the end of the world.

More knocks, until he’d barge in. Quickly before things got out of control, he’d took the quarter empty bottle into his grasp.. a taughting hiss as he’d spoke.

“You maniac!, you’ve drinkin’ almost half of the bottle?!..”

Your head wobbled, just lingering a simple eye on his non-existence.