My father didn't like watching me drunk.
On the contrary, every time I did it, he didn't let me enter home and forced me to spend the night in the garden.
But I didn't get mad at his attitude, also because in one way or another he made me realize that my mother had problems with alcohol.
But I haven't stopped drinking for my father. I did it only after I ended up in a hospital almost in a state of ethyl coma. It was the moment I realized that alcohol was starting to flow in my veins.
It has been years since I had this unbearable headache in the morning, so bad that I can't open my eyes quickly.
I let out a loud moan, rolling on the bed as if it could help me stop the headache, but instead of subsiding it becomes more and more pulsating, so much that I am forced to open my eyelids slowly, finding myself with a rebellious hedgehog in front of my eyes.
