sick & tired

"I don't know, what--oh, stop. Stop!"

She flailed at her lover, who braked as she threw open the passenger door and hurled into the street. As well as the car, and her sleeve, and her hair.

"I'll walk."

She tumbled into a manicured front lawn trying to leap over the puddle of vomit.

"Leave me. LEAVE."

She slammed the door but kept her back turned as the car pulled away.

You are a sick girl, she told herself, struggling to stand up straight. Bastards got me drunk.

But she knew the truth. She knew how to drown her sorrows.

I'm playing 100 Word Song over at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog. This week's song is "Sick Girl" by Social Distortion.