[b][u]Drinking to Forget[/u][/b]
Jack sits at the bar on his twelfth bottle of Whiskey. He's not drunk, he can't get drunk. His mask is on the table. He stares at it like its an entire different person. Soldier: 76 and Jack Morrison. The vigilante and the dead man. He sighs and ruffles his hair. He stares at the bottle of Whiskey and twirls the liquid around in the glass cup. "Drinking to forget" people say. He wish he could forget what he saw. But he couldn't. It was permanently engraved, branded, into his mind. He wanted to forget, but at the same time, he didn't want to.
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