Broken promise

Third person’s P.O.V

The luxurious room was dimly lit by various candles strewn all over in the candle bars and the majestic chandelier that was hung from the center of the ceiling.

Sitting on a heavy king-size bed, Sylvia was chugging a bottle of red wine, her anguished sobs reverberating the whole surroundings. She glanced at her reflection in a gigantic mirror decorated with the golden intricate designs and sniffled.

“Why is it always me?”

She then thrashed the bottle on the floor, it shattered against the hard surface, spilling over the golden smooth rug. The strong smell of alcohol filled the air as she banged her hands on the soft mattress.

“Why am I the only one to be defeated? What’s my fault?

Why is Heaven always siding with that wench when she doesn’t even deserve to be alive?”

Screaming at the top of her lungs, Sylvia rustled around the sheets to search for a new bottle. Her hand collided with a bundle of empty bottles; she threw them on the floor as well while adjus