Personal Narrative-The Murder Of Jose Cuervo
“Five more minutes,” she said, pulling the covers over her head. I will never drink again, I thought. Never again. I slid my legs across the bed, then downwards, gradually allowing the soles of my feet to touch the floor. Slowly and deliberately, I steadied myself, and shuffled into the bathroom. I reached between the shower curtain and wall, turned on the water, and then stepped into the shower to wash away the funk and formalities of the previous evening. Ohhh, headache. Still drunk and in the murderous grips of Jose Cuervo, I placed the palms of my hands on the wall and let the water cascade over my head. Movement meant pain and the water slammed into my head like tiny steel pellets, doling out punishment and reminding me of my overindulgence. …show more content…
Torture. Half asleep and on autopilot, Claudia stumbled out of bed, walked past the bathroom, and into the kitchen. Seconds later, she returned with my coffee and placed it next to the
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