Her weapon of choice is not what you think, its not some metaphorical blade or a toilet or a sink. A bottle of tequila and whatever else she can think, makes a good girl go bad and her breath start to reek. Shes become an addict before the age of 21 because when her lips touch the bottle and she throws her head back shes not thinking of others when the liquid pours down her throat nearly drowning her. Shes grown fond of the warm feeling it brings that no one else seemed to do, its made her feel alive. And without this magic concoction her insides are like antartica, there is no heartbeat, no simple treatmentto make her come back alive from years of damage and scar tissue. Another night alone shes let her friend convince her that she needs more of this juice of life and shes lying on the floor now, barely able to breathe the liquids filling her lungs like an hour glass slowly losing time, her sense of reality is gone, the sirens are going off now the men cant save her because after all the alcohol percentage in her blood is more than her body can take."Another girl taken by a simple mistake" no one will come to her funeral because no one ever got the chance to love her like he did before he left. The bottle controlled her to the very end