Just the sober nights. I'd still skip those. I was 24 this time. Nearly 8 years have passed, and I still thought of her often. I managed to tear apart the pictures, most of them I did when I was under the effect of drugs or alcohol, just to regret that the next day, but I still had one. The last one. I kept it in my bedside cabinet, but I tried not to watch it too often.
She was 16 at that time when I took this picture of her. She wore a reddish plaid shirt, its sleeves were pulled up to her elbows, she had ripped jeans on and she wore a cowboy hat and boots. She was sitting on Ivy. Her blonde hair waved down on her shoulders and she smiled happily. It was my favourite picture of her.
When I was sober, I often wondered what she was doing, what she became. Did she marry some bastard from
