All her life Mary had sought to quench her thirst. But she could never find satiety. It was quite elusive. Ever since that first time, when she was nowhere near an adult. When she had her first drink.
Ever since he gave her, her first sip, Mary felt broken and worthless.
As twisted as it sounded, she felt she could control the self-loathing, to some degree, by drinking on her own terms.
To regain a bit of her self-worth, she drank. Drank of men. Of young couples. Of rowdy bikers and proper businessmen.
But Mary still couldn’t find her fill.