#26 Bottle

He had forgotten why he began living in the bottle in the first place. He felt like a message, written with purpose and a romantic dream, but have somehow lost his way in the vast seas. Perhaps he was never meant to be found, to be left floating along the dips and bobs of the waves. Maybe this is what freedom tasted like.

He was forcibly dragged outside of his bottle — his warm, honey-liquid bottle that burned as it made its way down his throat — on her birthday, by the blaring honking of a car. That was also when he noticed her swollen lips, black eye, and purpled and splotchy red bruises on her arms and legs. She was trying to free herself from his grip on her wrist, crying as she held on tight to a large duffel bag in her other hand.

“Please let me go,” she whispered, her voice choked up.

*****
Has anyone else watched Maid on Netflix? My mother made me watch it for educational purposes (ie. if anything bad happens, always file a police report, because all bureaucratic systems that were meant to help you are fucked up and can’t do jack shit unless you have records.) and I loved it.