A/N: I do not own the copyright to Life or its characters, nor am I affiliated with anybody who does.
Trembling fingers swipe, then grasp at the bottle of liquor.
Pouring it out would be pointless because she knows that the bottle will be void of its contents by the morning.
Now that she's alone, she doesn't have to pretend to be civilised about her mistress.
Each sip is a further dive into the clutches of the inevitable annihilation of her body that will happen sooner rather than later.
She knows that.
What difference would it make when her psyche has long been destroyed?
When she's with her mistress, Dani doesn't think about what her father did and still does to her. How she has been stripped of her cultural identity and her vitality. The sleazy guys who she'll do anything with just to obtain her fix for the night. Or the bills that mount up because she is presently unable to work.
Awaking with a racing heartbeat, the detective promptly sits up.
It was just a dream. A stupid dream. She thinks to herself continuously during the day.
But it wasn't a dream that was a stretch from what used to be her reality.
How long until it becomes a reality again? She mentally asks herself until her head hurts.
It feels like it's just around the corner every day.
So she busies herself in an attempt to push her worries aside, filing them away for later.
It works... kind of.
Things are the best they have been for what feels like an eternity, but every once in a while, she slips away to visit her mistress again.