It was the first thought that flashed through his mind as he came to. It was a thought he knew well. The room was dark but the television was on and the woman on it was crying. That was what had stirred him. Her crying.
His head pounded fiercely and his tongue was in desperate need of a shave. He shifted up from his half-reclined position on the couch and realized he was holding onto an empty bottle of vodka. He blinked in confusion; he’d been drinking beer. Where did the vodka come from? The woman on the television was still crying.
The screen cuts to a picture of a young blond boy on a bike. He’s wearing a green baseball uniform and ball cap. Cut back to the crying woman. A crowd has gathered. They carry candles and teddy bears. Where did the vodka come from? He started to look around the room but the stabbing pain in his head stopped him cold. He groaned and rose cautiously, still gripping the empty bottle.
What did I do?
The thought persisted. Last night was a blur; he wasn’t even sure it was last night. How long had he blacked out for this time? He slogged across the room towards the bathroom when he noticed the door to the garage was ajar and the light was on. He stretched out his free hand to push open the door and was surprised when it resisted. He stepped forward and nearly tripped.
A small hand was poked through the doorway, laying across the threshold, unmoving. He stared in horror, recognizing the green sleeve of a baseball uniform. The empty bottle slips from his fingers. On the television, the woman continues to cry.
Oh, dear God, what did I do?
Welcome to Day 5 of the Second Third Annual 30 Minus 2 Days of Writing. Today’s prompt was The Empty Bottle and it was brought to you by the deliciously charming Southern belle, Malisa. Please click on the links below to visit the other people participating in this challenge. Oh, and speak softly. They probably have some empty bottles of their own lying around.