On the rocks [Open]

It has been raining for an entire day in District Ten- and Shiloh mumbled complaints as he took sanctuary in a bar not far from the fields he worked in. I hate the rain he thought to himself as he slung his mud drenched coat over a hanger and stamped his boot on the bare welcome mat; which didn’t even read welcome anymore because of the mud that smothered it. The bar was lively and chatty, people were already drinking and having a good time- despite being a poor district, those of District 10 did love their booze; the men in particular all gathered in the bars and kitchens of friends on a Friday night to drink to their hearts content. Mind you, the alcohol was almost pure Ethanol and a lot of the older men who had been drinking it had gone blind by 50- a worrying thought for an alcoholic like Shiloh. Shiloh would always say to those who told him drinking was bad for him, he would nearly always chuckle and smile before telling them “I wouldn’t mind being blind, mean I wouldn’t have to see you again”; this comment often lead to a laugh or too and sometimes a fight.

As Shiloh crossed to the bar, he dodged couples upon couples upon couples- for some reason the bar was full of them tonight. He was pretty sure half of them weren’t real, that some may be the local prostitute giving some poor sod the ‘Girlfriend’ experience; while others were so drunk, that Shiloh was sure they just fell together. As for Shiloh, he had no one to go to the pubs with- he wasn’t very popular at work so had no friends there, he didn’t have any brothers or sisters or even a girlfriend to drink with- he was alone, and that was life for him. The rich smell of alcohol was always too tempting for Shiloh; the thick fumes of liquor and ethanol was choking Shiloh, like a snake it wrapped itself round him until he could bear no more. He needed a glass or two to calm his nerves, to stop the insistent nagging in the back of his mind to drink more- it would nullify the pain of being alive.

Shiloh sat on the bar stool, leaning against the bar. It wouldn’t take the bar man long to see him and pour the exact drink he needed- he’d been working in his Aunts fields all day, the time had passed slowly and put pressure on his damaged brain; his back ached from carrying the sacks of hay from one barn to another, then bringing in coal to warm the house. He had thought of going back to the house for a bath before he came here to the bar; but the voice inside his head was kicking and screaming- desperate for that first drop of alcohol. He heard the glass being placed down in front of him, before he nodded thanks towards the bar keeper; his hand already clasping round the metallic cup; no fancy glass cups here. Shiloh swirled the whiskey for one moment before taking a large swig of it- letting the warm liquid run down his throat and warm his body.