The Final Cut

Type Note: This story contains themes of alcohol abuse and emotional distress

First Drink

After the math exam, I went back to my room – a messy student den I never bothered to clean. And honestly, what was the point? A few minutes after I’d straighten something out, it would fall apart again. Entropy in real time.

It was hot. Really hot. By the time I got there, hauling myself up that steep hill, I was sweating through every inch of my skin. I got inside, peeled off my shirt, took off my watch – I couldn’t stand it sticking to my skin. It was hot, and I felt like shit.

I opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of vodka and a bottle of Coke. I poured some vodka into a glass, then topped it off with Coke. It fizzed up, spilling over a little, bubbles racing to the surface – then slowly settling down.

I drank it in small, slow sips, feeling how the vodka I’d poured kept trying to take over, pushing its bitter taste through the rest of the drink.

The cold liquid going down brought some relief to my overheated body. I wiped the sweat off my forehead and sat down on a chair by the table. I thought about the shitty exam I’d had that morning, and about the past few weeks in general, which had been especially depressing. A moment later, I was hot again.

Second Drink

I opened the vodka bottle again and poured a little into the glass. I Topped it off with Coke and started drinking. About halfway through, I lit a cigarette. Between drags, I kept sipping.

By the time the glass was empty, I had half a cigarette left. As I smoked it down, a soft dizziness started to settle in, swaying me gently. I smiled.

Third Drink

I poured the vodka - this time a little more than usual - and topped with Coke. I downed half the glass in one go, then lit another cigarette. I really needed to cut back on smoking. But today felt like an exception. Worse than usual. So I let myself.

After a few drags, I finished what was left in the glass. One more drag - maybe two - and the world started to slow down. The room shifted slightly.

I blinked once. Then again.

And I suddenly saw Dana.

She looked as beautiful as ever, dressed just like the day she left me. She moved around the kitchen, going on about how everything was filthy, how I should clean once in a while.

“Dana,” I said, my voice rough. “Please, stop moving around. You’re making my head spin.”

“That’s not me,” she said. “That’s the vodka.” But she sat down across from me anyway.

“You never drink,” she said. “What’s going on with you?”

“No, you’re wrong. I do drink,” I gave her a crooked smile. “I drink when things get really bad - or really good,” I looked at her. “Guess which one it is.”

“Yeah, I can see that. But honestly, it works out for me that you’re drinking, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

“What do you mean, ‘be here’? Are you… a hallucination?”

“Yes,” she said lightly. “What did you think? That I’m real? I’m made of vodka and coke.” She laughed - that same charming laugh of hers - and the moment it left her mouth, it turned into something sharp, stabbing straight through me.

“Stop laughing, that hurts,” I muttered.

“Whatever you say.” She went serious in an instant. “Listen - do me a favor. Drink more. It’s starting to wear off, and I’ve got a few things I need to clear up with you.”

And she was right. I could already see it - her edges softening, her body fading, as the vodka fog in my head began to thin.

Fourth Drink

I poured half a glass of vodka this time, just a splash of Coke for color. I downed it all in one go. Disgusting. Cheap vodka - the kind day laborers bought, because that was all they could afford. The kind you end up with when you don’t have a choice. Students, Workers… same thing.

I lit a cigarette. On the first drag, I felt it hit me – hard. Went straight to my head, kicking something loose inside. Dana sharpened into focus, brighter now, like she’d been plugged in.

“Good thing you went easy on the Coke,” she said. “It doesn’t mix well, you know.”

I just shrugged and she said, “Oh, well, you never had good taste anyway.”

My head felt so heavy I had to let it fall back against the wall behind the chair. After a moment, I realized I couldn’t lift it again. Not to look at her. That was fine. I could hear her just fine.

“Okay, listen,” she said. “I need to tell you a few things, and we don’t have much time. Soon you’ll be completely drunk and won’t understand anything.” I nodded, as much as I could. She went on. “I’m here because I feel like I hurt you.”

Oh, you’re so smart! You don’t have a clue how much you hurt me, you bitch.

“Stop that,” she said. “I can hear your thoughts, you know.”

“Good for you,” I replied.

“You still love me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I said. I had imagined this moment so many times. “Yeah, I do.”

“That’s not good,” she said.

“Then why are you here?” I snapped. “What is this? You came back to finish the job? Thought maybe you missed a spot?” I let out a dry laugh. “Take a look,” I said, tapping my chest. “There’s nothing left. It’s all broken. Smashed. Run over. That was you. You did a great job. Really. Didn’t leave anything behind!”

“What do you want from me?” she said. “What did you expect - that I’d love you forever? That I’d always be yours? Enough. Just let it go. it’s over!”

She sighed. I lit another cigarette.

“I’m here because I care about you,” she said more quietly. “I don’t love you anymore. There’s nothing I can do about that. But I do care. And I can’t stand watching you do this to yourself.”

The smoke curled up and stung my eyes.

“Look at yourself,” she said. “You think about me all the time. You keep having imaginary conversations with me, still thinking I might come back. But I won’t! You need to get that through your head already. It’s over. That doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world. Snap out of it. Shave, for God’s sake. Go to parties, meet people – you can’t bury yourself forever!”

Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw her starting to fade. “Wait,” I said. “You need another drink.”

Whatever Drink This Was

I poured half a glass of vodka. No Coke this time. I downed it in a second. The whole world spun. Fireworks burst inside my head, and Dana came back into focus – clear, bright, almost painfully real.

“Thanks, honey,” she said softly. “But I’m done. I have to go”. She looked at me for a moment. “I need you to promise me something. Stop loving me. Move on with your life. Promise.”

“Danny,” I whispered, struggling to get the words out. “I don’t feel so good…. I think I’m gonna throw up. And I need to piss…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” she said. “Soon I’ll be gone, and then you can throw up all you need.”

“But I hate throwing up, I really do,” I said, almost crying. “Danny, please, I don’t want to...”

“I know,” she smiled sadly. “But you have to.” She leaned closer. “You’ll throw all of it up. You’ll get this love out of your system. Then you’ll fall asleep like a baby and sweat it out through your pores.”

Her voice softened. “You’ll piss the rest of it into the toilet, right where it belongs. And when you wake up, your life will start moving again.”

My bladder was pressing so hard I thought it was about to explode. I thought I was an idiot. I could’ve just drunk a full glass of vodka straight and gotten the same effect, without having to piss out all that Coke. My bladder ached. My stomach twisted. I felt the love inside me, pounding against every possible opening in my body, screaming to get out.

“Dana… I hate you,” I whispered.

That seemed to sting her a little, but she still smiled. “Good,” she said. “As long as you stop loving me.”

She looked around the room. The walls had shifted from white to green with yellow stripes. The table kept changing size – big, small, big again - and the floor had turned soft beneath me, like a sponge.

“Look at what’s happening to your world,” she sighed. “You’re getting completely drunk, and soon I’ll disappear. But before I go, I need you to promise me something.” She looked straight at me. “You’re going to live normally again. You’re going to stop loving me, okay?”

“Okay, Danny, I’ll stop. Will you help me get to the toilet?”

“Can’t do it, honey, it’s something you’ll have to do on your own,” she smiled faintly. “I’m just an illusion, no physical abilities.” She started to fade.

“Dana!” I called out - or maybe just thought it - “You know… I loved you more than anything in the world.”

“I know,” she said softly. “And I loved you too. But it’s over now, right?”

Right

“Goodbye, sweetie, take care.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “I will…”

Then she was gone.

The world split in two. The refrigerator turned purple. The lamp started playing cheerful waltz, and the table galloped across the kitchen like a horse.

For a moment, I thought maybe I could hold it in. Fight the nausea and keep myself from throwing, because I really, really hated vomiting. But pretty quickly I realized there was no chance. No way I was making it all the way to the toilet. I’d have to throw up right here, on the kitchen floor. Probably piss myself too.

But it was okay. Tomorrow I’d clean the place.