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There's nothing Mary knows more than the bottom of a bottle.
Wether it be wine, scotch, or whiskey, she's always got something on hand. Hidden away in the stash she used to keep secret.
Joseph was long gone before she started drinking. She can't remember the last time she looked him in the eyes and actually saw him.
Mary always knew he wasn't happy-- sometimes she wonder if she ever was either --but here they were; married, kids, bake sales, PTA meetings, Youth meetings, church gathering, backyard gatherings, you name it.
The whole domestic act had attracted Mary in at the beginning. Lured her with its promises; its taunts.
Maybe it was okay at first; maybe they were okay, but something wasn't right from the start. This was a fact she always knew.
Joseph loved her in the beginning, and she loved him, but it was never enough for him. He was never there one hundred percent of the time. Some part of him was always off, wandering somewhere else.
She thought it was her, at first, something she must've been doing to put him off. The more time went on though, the more she wondered.
He was distant, so she was distant.
Somehow, through everything, they had kids. Maybe it was because of the constant pestering from both sides of their family and their neighbors. The questions from all sides flying at them like angry, swarming birds. Whatever it was, it worked because soon the house was full of the small humans. Running around, needing things, wanting things.
It was all a lie; Mary realized this after their first child. From the first date it had been a lie. They were never really together even when they were.
Joseph, the sweet Christian boy, the sailor. He had dropped his anchor into Mary's heart the moment she met him, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get away from him; she couldn't get enough.
The drinking started after the twins.
It was slow at first; just something to take the edge off.
The edge off what though? She didn't know. Life? Maybe. Things were easy enough. Wake up, make breakfast, take the kids to school, go home, tidy up, pick up the kids, go to church, and occasionally attend PTA meetings. Mary stuck to this routine for what seemed like an eternity before 'taking the edge off' turned into empty bottles and hazy memories.
Joseph didn't think she noticed the staring. How he would look at other people; at other men. She didn't care if he was gay, she didn't care if he was bi, if he was anything; it didn't matter. She just wanted to go back in time. To grab herself by the shoulders and say 'run, run and don't look back; you're making the biggest mistake of your life'. But there was no such thing as time machines, and so here she was.
Thoughts would race through her mind every night. She would wonder to herself if he was cheating on her, if he was in love with someone else, if he was lusting after someone else.
So she would go out to anywhere really, any bar, she would get drunk, and she would flirt. She would flirt with almost anything that moved. Most times she would get rejected; people would say things about how wasted she was, or they would just be understandably uncomfortable.
On rare occasion, though, Mary would be taken up by some younger man looking for a quick fuck, or some girl who was looking for an older woman to take bed.
Sometimes when she fought with Joseph, when she had drank a little more than recommended, Mary would yell loud enough for the kids to hear. Of course, they wouldn't remember now because of their age at the time, but it didn't stop Joseph from hissing at her to be quiet. Mary never listened though; she was too busy yelling.
She would scream at him to just go; to leave. If he was so dreadfully unhappy, if she was making him unhappy, to leave because she was unhappy too. Because neither of them were sailing anymore; they were drowning. Life jackets punctured by the splinters of wood that were once their ship. Destroyed by storms so violent they shook the earth.
Sometimes Joseph would say that he was going to leave, that he would take the kids and go.
Mary would laugh then, a dark laugh that would creep up her throat and escape through her lips. She would say 'take them, take them and go'.
Most times she meant it, but Joseph would just shake his head and apologize, make up some excuse for both of them, and then say that he would see her in bed once she had calmed down.
She would always calm down after a few more drinks.
Sinful,
sinful,
sinful,
demon.
They would whisper in her ears while she slept.
Neglectful,
abusive,
cruel,
disgusting,
cheater,
repent.
And she would beg:
'Please,
please,
forgive me.'
'Forgive me,
Father,
for I have sinned.'