a broken resolution, a new resolve

[Fiction] Friday Challenge for January 2, 2009:

Take a favorite character you have created. Pick a New Year’s Resolution that they truly intended to keep. Now, why did they break it within 24 hours?

[this piece is also my participation in the 1000 words meme, the black&white picture...]

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Sheila groaned and forced her eyes open, despite the bright light beating down on her lids, throbbing, it seemed, in time with the pounding in her head, behind her eyes, just above her right ear. Squinting, she caught sight of Shimbu sprawled on the floor, watching her with sad brown eyes, with new year party paraphernalia making for a blurry buffer between herself and her dog.

Her hungover dog.

Shimbu's eyes continued to watch her woefully as Sheila pulled herself up to a sitting position, again moaning at the thumping of her head's innards even as the room began to spin. "I think I'll just like back down again, Shimbu," she whispered, cringing even at that soft sound.

This time it was bad. Really bad.

There was only one upright bottle of champagne. The others were on the floor, empty. They weren't sitting in pools of their own juices, though. Shimbu had seen to it. She had always seen to it that no open bottle of alcohol would remain upright more than ten minutes, before she took it upon herself to knock it down, knock it over, and proceed to sample the bottle's contents.

At first, it was funny.

Then, it started getting annoying.

A waste of good alcohol, for one. Carl was particularly annoyed about that. And the vet had remarked on Shimbu's liver, the last time Sheila had dragged her for the annual visit. Sheila had looked surprised and puzzled, although inside she had known it was from all that drinking Shimbu insisted on doing.

So her one and only New Year resolution had been to make sure Shimbu would not have access to anymore alcohol.

Then Carl had called, insisting that she host a New Year party at her apartment. It turned out he had planned it with his buddies for months, he just hadn't told her until half an hour before people showed up. "Your apartment has such a great view of the fireworks, Sheila!" he had explained as he rolled a keg into the kitchen, "it's the perfect place for us to ring in the new year."

Sheila had been annoyed at the invasion of her home, yet felt obligated as the forced host to not turn the unwanted guests away. Her solution? Passive-aggressively drown herself in booze - after all, it wasn't her booze, even if it was her apartment getting trashed that night.

So much booze did she imbibe, that she forgot all about Shimbu and the problem of open bottles.

The dog loved parties.

They both did.

And so they both partied.

And now, Shimbu lay there, whining quietly, looking at Sheila with those sad sad eyes.

Sheila closed her eyes, and eased herself onto her back. She would deal with Shimbu later. Right now, she had to get her own self in order. Last night had proven yet again that Carl was bad news.

"Hey Shimbu," she whispered. "We'll start all over today, all right? No more drinking for you, and no more Carl for me. Okay?" Shimbu whined a little louder in response, and crawled to Sheila, licking her hand gently.

A good thing about hitting rock bottom is the only direction left to you is up. And up they went, Sheila and Shimbu. Up they went.