A Rough Guide to a Melancholy World

Written for a 750 word competition

Loyal to the Life

I sat with my daughter in the garden; we had just lit the fire in the cast iron pit. 

It was a mild June evening; it was still light at 9pm. I had UB40 playing on my phone. We were both a bit tired, and the fire was cracking after the flames hit a few brown leaves. Our evenings in the garden had become a habit. The last time I had spent so long in the garden before was when I would drink and smoke myself into a coma.

Completely out of the blue, Izzy said, 

“Dad, do you ever regret drinking?”

“Never! Why would I? 

It gave me the best times of my life.”

Izzy looked a little shocked, after all, it was only three years ago that I spent three weeks in hospital. I was bright yellow with jaundice; I looked like a character in the Simpsons. I could barely keep my balance to walk to the toilet. I had drip after drip inserted into my right arm which was already black and blue with the nurses failed attempts to plug me in. 

I was taken by a squeaky wheelchair to various scans and X-rays. It was embarrassing and humiliating. I was forced to eat terrible food. I had to sleep in a sterile ward with five other men, all snoring through the night. I was the only one who showered everyday.

The worst thing was losing the respect of my children. I don’t think my relationship with them was ever the same. It was a shame. They were the most important thing in my life.

But I still had no regrets about drinking. Without drinking I would have left my wife, alcohol made my life tolerable, it gave me something to look forward to.

Poor Izzy looked a little shocked. She only visited me once and that was after I head-butted the hard cold floor whilst trying to close the curtain, I looked like the elephant man.

“What do you regret dad?”

“Stopping.”

“Dad, don’t be stupid.

Tell me everything?”

“I wish I could Izzy, but there’s something’s you shouldn’t know.

Maybe I’ll tell you a few things.”

Izzy nodded her head in an excitable but nervous manner. 

I put my cup of coffee on the garden table and looked at her. 

“Izzy, have you ever loved someone it drives you demented?

Have you met someone on a night out and become best friends, only to never see them again?”

“Have you related to a song so much, that it’s as though it was made for you?”

“Not really dad.”

“I started to drink tiny amounts with my friends from around thirteen. I loved it, we had such a laugh. The older we got the more we drank. 

Before we knew it, it was every weekend. It gave us this confidence to do anything. We would dance and chat girls up. Get into the odd fight, nothing too serious.”

“Wow dad, thirteen is young.”

“When we got to eighteen, we were clubbing every weekend, some of my friends started taking ecstasy and cocaine, but I just stayed on the

“At university I’d met a new bunch of friends, and it was chaos. I had some of the best times of my life. All nighters, falling in love, falling out of love, handovers and the reliving of the night before.”

“As I got older, we all began to settle down, I met your mum, I had a serious career, but I couldn’t stop wanting the buzz of meeting new people. Talking rubbish all night and just having the best times. 

By the time you and your brother came along I had to adapt. Life became really boring and the only way to enjoy myself was smoking and drinking. I loved you more than anything, but it went from sitting in pub gardens all day to changing nappies and taking you to children farms. It was a massive lifestyle change.”

Poppy listened, taking it all in, and said,

“I’ve had a few nights out which have been good.

What music did you like?”

“I liked hip hop and R&B, but also Indie. It was bands like The Streets and The 1975 that brought back the memories, especially The Streets. The 90’s was a different time to now. It has all gone a bit soft.”

“Are you going to drink again dad?”

“No Darling. It’s over.

I’ll be fifty next year, so I’m now ready to act my age.”

“I love you dad.”

“I love you too darling, come on, time for bed.”

The End.