the bottle of death

One phone call. One deathley phone. literaly. One cry. A cry i shall never ever forget. He was walking to visit his brothers grave. He use to walk everywhere. I think he just enjoyed the fresh air. He had crossed that highway many times before. He had known those streets by the back of his hand. Past tense. It's all past tense. I guess the driver didn't see him. He was on the median. He hadn't even yet touched the road. It was so many years ago but yet i can still remember so clearly each and every time one of my friends says they picked up that bottle.
Those lights. They where so bright. Many years before that phone call i saw those lights down my driveway coming home from chruch one wednesday night. You'd think those things would be forgotten, but some just never leave your mind. We knew how he got. We knew that sometimes he just went to far, but this time my grandma had seen him from up the street and came to see what was going on. She was innocent. He was out of it. She survived, but he came back still. I dont know why but he always seemed to be forgiven.
Drunks.
I have seen many affects of drinking in my life. I have never picked up that bottle. Never will. I have vowed it. See one thing someone who lives with you can do is warp your mind. You become so confused. One day they are so nice talking about how they are going to build a tree house in the backyard, and the next day they go out with some friends. Come home, and only their face is something you can recognize. Such a simple thing. Easily distructable, can't do much damage if just thrown at someone, but yet it causes so much distruction.
We entered highschool. I hadn't really thought about all of that much since elementary school. Then it all started back. I had thought all my friends had understood. I had told them how much i cared. Yet, the parties must have seemed more appealing. I have quite a few of those phone calls. You try to stay strong, but as soon as that dialtone ends the tears drops that fall are no way in your control.
Im not quite sure why it is so appealing. Is it the people your with? The thought that it will take away pain? The feelings it gives you? I'm not quite sure why alternatives can't be seen, but when that bottle is offered. It seems to be right for them.
My friends will joke around. They will say "oh yeah i can see you being abusive," because im so weak they thinks it's funny. In any other circumstance that line would be funny, but with that bottle, the last thing you will hear slip from my mouth is a laugh.
Im talking to a friend at this very moment who is drunk. He is on aim. At least he's is safe at home i guess, but he doesn't think straight when he is drunk. He is telling me jokes. I can't find any form of laughing.
Would you drink arsenic? Then why is that bottle so appealing?