(R-18 WARNING!!)

With nearly no success, I had found myself still at an uneasy crossroads. My mind within full dismay and disbelief. The burial of my grandmother – which was meant to bring comfort and reassurance, brought neither.

Michael now being more lost than ever, without the guidance of any experienced guardians – instead, stuck with me. Barely able to manage my own troubles and habits, I found it close to impossible to manage him as well as these misfortunes.

Thankfully, the guardian angel – Sarah, was more than willing to help in the bearing of weight and responsibility.

Sat, clueless and dazed it became apparent that steps had to be taken to improve the situation that we found ourselves in. it was not only unsustainable to live the way I had but damaging for those around me.

Alcohol had to take a backseat, a last resort by any means. Sarah needed a strong-willed boyfriend, that she could depend on and Michael needed a brother and guardian to guide and protect him.

The self-destructive mindset and patterns had to end if I had any future, or if my family would be allowed to prosper.

Struggles and coping mechanisms are intertwined, sometimes the coping mechanism is a result of the struggles one has suffered, and even the same thing.

I am more than aware of my situation and how I ended up where I did, the bitch of irony I suppose.

Is it worse to be completely self-aware, and persistently do the same shit that hurts you? Or is it worse to be completely unaware of the fuck up you have become and why?

Cap of the bottle fully twisted close; the glass bottle full of regrets now placed within a cupboard at the back of my mind. I will not return to the man I was. I will stop the cycle that my father's father had started.

Without the alcohol and narcotics, I found myself suffering from headaches and dizziness on a daily basis. Head pounding while the world spun around me; centre of gravity being shifted with every turn.

The safe haven of my house was the furthest I could venture before feeling seasick. The floorboards curving – contracting and vibrating, while the motion situated in front of my eyes blurred, becoming a shady haze.

Without an alcohol and drug imbued damn preventing my emotions and memories from saturating my synapses, I was left open and vulnerable to my past, present and passions.

Corralling ceilings and walls warped my perturbing perception of the glass garage I found myself managed within.

Claustrophobic in nature, seemingly exacerbated by the intent of withdrawal, with the underlying positive influence of Sarah as my one true light. Arm outreaching, holding my heartbeat steady, slowing the rotation of my body while easing the pain originating from my cranium.

A stable, fixed schedule kept my mind at ease during the difficult time at the beginning of our relationship.

Michael arriving at my house every day allowed for a regular routine to mould. His attendance was more than appreciated, it also permitted a relationship between us to be maintained.

"hey, Michael do you wanna perhaps, do something today?"

Michaels head tilted as his index finger raised towards his lips.

"Give me a second yeah. Let me finish this text."

"Oh. Who is it? you got a girl on the go?"

Michael's eyes narrowed, either concentrating on the 'important' text he was writing, or with disappointment at the intent of the questioning.

"Michael did you hear me?"

With seemingly frustrated resolve Michael's head slanted toward the left, away from my direction.

"Yes, David I heard you."

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The sigh that rolled from his breath not only confused me but gave the distinct feeling he was annoyed somehow.

I could feel an underlying tension; hopes of burying it seemingly manageable with the expectations I had now set for myself. Either addressing these problems or burying them deeper would be the optimum solution.

The choice of ignoring the issue seemed appropriate with the matters at hand.

Stations upon stations of channels in constant rotation, neither of us able to select a programme to break the tension.

Background noise from a collage of channels being the ambience of predilection, giving a disjointed feel to the atmosphere. Broken up choruses, mashed with headline news stories and police dramas were the assortment of daytime mumble nestling in my eardrum.

"Why not just pick something Michael?"

His face disgruntled, displacing the grin that was originally on his face.

"You pick something then."

Black plastic covered in buttons summersaulted across the living room, originally perched in the palm of Michael's hand. Making its way upon my lap, the channel had changed.

"With A record of seventeen rapes, four hundred assaults, and four murders."

Second glances were needed to identify what was on the screen. Eminem's song 'Crack a Bottle'.

Finally, an improvement could be seen on my brothers' face; a smile accompanied with a cruising of his head gave me an uplifted feeling. Gentle nodding and tapping of feet soon became synchronised – both my brother and I had found common ground again.

Laughter and smiles soon ensued, as a topical conversation irradiated due to the lyrics being used.

Minutes soon formed hours, as the minute hand raced around the circumference chasing the slow-moving larger indicator. A relay race arose, each passing the next until soon the sun had become tired of the sport, passing the baton to the moon, who ascended in its stead.

Clinking of keys alerted us to the arrival of someone at the door. As the door handle dropped from its horizontal position, the door edged backwards granting Sarah entrance to the passageway.

"Hey boys."

Voice echoed to the sound of keys being placed back into the door and the lock twisting back into place.

"hey Babe, ho- how was your day?"

My nerves shaking as always, followed by Michaels body contorting in discomfort.

"Yeah not too bad, the bar was busy by the end. So, did yous do much?"

Her voice in a tone similar to an interrogation.

"We've just been chilling, discussing Eminem and his choice of lyrics."

"Oh nice. What song?"

"Crack a Bottle, was the song we listened to, but his lyrics in general."

"Well Michael are you doing okay?"

Her hand reaching toward his shoulder for comfort while her voice soothed the intent.

"Errm. Yeah. No, I'm good thank you."

Left shoulder shrugging her hand from it, leaving her perplexed after offering support.

"Anyway, best be going. I have work at one. Thanks for today David."

Michael's words trailing his body as he made it for the door. Confusion and bewildering thoughts slithered through the crevices and edgeways of my brain, making their way toward the temporal lobe - tickling the limbic system.

"Is he okay David?" Sarah insisted as she sat beside me, locking her arm around my shoulder blades, pulling me tightly into her.

"I have no idea; he was fine be-before. Maybe I said something?" puzzlement rattled my vocal cords.

"NO. No babe of course you didn't. It's an upsetting time for the both of you, it's expected to have unexpected behaviour."

Her choice of argument seemed very compelling, pulling me from the uncertain edge of the mystification filled abyss.

"Ye-yeah you're right. Of course. Thanks babe."

Her smile slipped higher, arising toward her cheek, producing a symmetrical curvaceous beam.

Eyes staring into one another, pupils locked in a hypnotising foxtrot, following each other's movements. Synchronicity peaking at optimal while her hand bordered higher upon my thigh.

Both heads creeping closer to each other, feeling locked in the moment and even transposed by it. Lips interlocking. Hands caressing the outline of each other's bodies.

Heavy breathing becoming more transparent as movement quickened.

Fingers unclipping the metal button fastening my jeans together, allowed for her hand to sneak past the barricade of my boxer's rim.

"Is this okay?" she whispered in my ear as her hand stroked my shaft.

"mmmhmm. Yesss."

"Is this okay?"

"Yes. Yes please."

The quicken of pace matched with the heaviness that my fingers pushed against her with, elevated her heartrate and breathing; deeply exhaling against my neck.

Gently gripped hand tugged downward at me, making us both shudder with the sensation of lust.

Movements becoming fluid as the desire lubricated our muscles, opening us both up to the eventuality of an erotic climax.

Pulling a condom from the lampshade table, she ripped the seam, exposing the slippery rubber shielding.

Thumb and index pinched the tip, as her left hand pulled the base over the tip of my penis. My eyes glaring at her in wonderment, completely astonished at the majestic woman before me.

Love in my eyes and lust coursing through my veins made for an ultimate high, greater than any drug could illicit.

Her lips opened, swallowing me whole; lost in her gaze as she moaned. Both naked bodies tangled within each other to such an extent that limbs had wrapped around the both of us, unable to recognise where I started, and Sarah ended.

Gentle thrusting soon turned into a deeper more aggressive shove as her hand covered my throat, trapping the air from escaping. Edging my climax, the loss of oxygen allowed for a strain of pulsating love to release. Kissing and biting her neck as our bodies tumbled upon the floor.

Nails ripping into our skin, scarring the tissue while blood dripped from the ridges. Sweat leaked from the two of us, oiling our forms resulting in the whole experience getting wetter.

Only fifteen to twenty minutes in, before my lust and adoration could no longer be controlled. My body violently shaking, gasping for her, my final breath - a moan.