Pain of Memory
by Aimless
Chapter 3
Many shot glasses later and still I sat rifling through my memories getting more morose by the minute. Where was the oblivion I craved? I sure hoped I’d find it the closer I got to the bottom of the bottle. True, some of my reminiscing was not too bad. The memories of Omi before everything went to shit were actually quite pleasant. I’m sure now that I probably drove him away too. I tended to do that… to push and push until everyone I cared about abandoned me. Fuzzily I poured myself another drink and managed to get most of it in the glass. I’d been here for several hours and the bar was getting a bit crowded. I was glad now that I’d picked a back booth and was left primarily alone. I got the odd stare every once in a while but that was all.
I knew that my actions the past several days had been somewhat irrational and moody. But I couldn’t shake the specters of my past. The last mission had brought them all frighteningly close to the surface and I did not have the strength to shove them back. I should just leave now and go home. I should just tell Aya and Chloe what was bothering me. But damn it I was tired of being the weak whiny one. Aya was so strong and he had to get tired of me leaning on him all the time. Chloe, for the most part, just shrugged and talked out his fears with Aya as well. He did not confide in me so much and that kinda hurt. Not that I’d be any help anyway. I’m just a dumb jock who thinks running from his problems is a great way to solve them. God… listen to me. When did I become so pathetic? Maybe it was the alcohol after all? Maybe I was just tired of dealing with all this crap my life had handed me.
I knocked back the full glass and hissed as the liquid burned a path down to my already churning stomach. It was totally irresponsible of me and I shrugged away the guilt as I steadily did my best to get my money’s worth of the alcohol I’d bought. I had just slopped vodka all over the table top in an attempt to get it into the glass when a hand on my shoulder caused me to jump rather badly. Shit I must be wasted to not have noticed and let someone get so close to me.
“Care for some company Honey?” a slightly nasally feminine voice grated on my ears.
Blearily I looked over my shoulder and squinted at the blond leaning against the corner of my booth. She was heavily made up in a desperate attempt to hide her age and I guessed she was on the downhill side of 35. She wore skin tight jeans and a slightly oversized t-shirt that she had knotted in the middle to expose part of her stomach. A gaudy heart shaped charm hung from her pierced navel which she practically had shoved in my face. The only thing that saved her from being boney was a rather impressive chest. She ran her red tipped nails down my arm and leaned closer. I could smell her cheap floral perfume and the reek of old cigarettes.
“Buy a girl a drink? It’s a shame to see someone as hot as you alone. Scoot over and I’ll pay attention to you.” She didn’t even give me a chance to refuse before she was sliding in the end of the booth. I shied away as her hip brushed mine.
“Look I’m really not in the mood for company. Just leave.” The blond merely looked at me a bit confused. It was then that I realized I’d answered her in Japanese. I must be plastered to not have realized. I repeated myself in English this time, somewhat slurred but understandable.
“Oh Honey you don’t mean that. My name is Cheryl and could use a friend. Besides no one likes to drink alone right?” Then to my disgust she picked up my glass and licked the rim before taking a large drink.
Short of bodily removing her from the booth I was trapped. I scooted further away and damned if she didn’t follow me. There was no way I was going to drink out of that glass again and I watched as she drained it and poured herself another. The bottle was mostly empty now and I sighed. My new “friend” was chattering non-stop and my fuzzy brain was trying to keep up. Her accent was a bit thick and I did not understand half of what she was telling me.
“So this bottle is shot should I order another or do you want to go somewhere more private?” I jumped again as her hand landed on my crotch.
I was not so far gone that I was going to let her touch me. She frowned when I lifted the offending hand and dropped it back into her own lap.
“Really I just want to be alone. I’m trying not to be rude here but you don’t want me to lose my temper. Just leave.” I had to concentrate to say it in English and that was making my head throb.
She smiled and her lipstick had smudged onto her front teeth. She was becoming more and more unattractive by the moment. I thought alcohol made a person more attractive? This was not the case with the clingy woman inching her way closer to me. I had retreated about as far as I could across the booth and really needed her to get the hell away from me.
“C’mon now honey don’t be like that. You could use some company and I really think you’re the hottest guy in here.” I tried to climb out of my skin as she wormed her way onto my lap.
I gritted my teeth and tried not to breathe in her stale flowery scent. How did I get myself into these messes? All I wanted was to be alone and damned if I did not attract a bar leech.
“Listen I’m giving you to the count of three to get the hell off of me before I dump you on your ass.” My voice was a bit harsher then I intended but I really just wanted to leave. This bar had lost its appeal.
“Well at least give a girl a hug and thanks for the drinks. But if you ever want a good time...” Before I could pull away she had one arm around my neck and the other dangerously close to my ass.
If her hand dipped lower I was going to go ballistic. I tensed as she groped my butt and was just about to rudely shove her to the floor when she planted her dry, chapped lips on my cheek near my mouth. I also felt her hand stealthily slide into my pocket, the one that contained my wallet. Damn it she was trying to treat herself to my money. The skank probably thought I’d be too distracted to notice. Truthfully I cringed when she touched me and I’d had enough. There are a lot of reasons not to drink and my temper was one of them. My hand clamped on to hers hard enough to hurt and I hissed from between clenched teeth.
“Get your fucking hands off my wallet and get out of my sight before I forget you’re female and do something we’ll both regret.” Her eyes widened as she looked into mine and I wondered for a fleeting second what she saw there. Perhaps it was one predator recognizing another and I was the alpha. She gulped audibly.
“You’re hurting me! Let go you asshole!” She raised her voice and stumbled backward out of the booth and she landed in a heap on the floor. Fuck! Now I was the center of attention.
Several rather large men got up and poked their noses into my little argument with the bleached blond bitch. She looked up at the three guys and managed to force out a few tears.
“Look I don’t want any trouble. I’ll just take my jacket and leave.” I wanted to diffuse this fast and get the hell out.
“He grabbed me and... and I told him no. But he thought if he bought me a couple of drinks...”Then she started blubbering. God my life sucks.
“You can’t just come in here and treat the women any fucking way you want. We might have to teach you a lesson.” This was from the guy I affectionately dubbed Beer Gut.
His cronies were on either side of me and their only distinguishing features were the one’s lack of teeth and a girth to rival his big friend who was doing the talking. The other guy was small and weasely with a shrewd stare and there was actual intelligence lurking in his eyes. It was him I was worried about the most. The last thing I needed was a knife in the gut. Been there done that.
Had I not been stinking drunk I could have taken the three of them quite easily. Unfortunately I was paying so much attention to the smallest guy in the group that I did not see the ham sized fist until it impacted with my face. Fuck it hurt and as I felt the blood dribble from my nose I really hoped it wasn’t broken.
I staggered backward after being hit and blocked the next punch from Beer Gut only to get viciously punched in the side by the Weasel. I kicked out and got the third guy in the nuts and he was down for the count. I grunted in pain as I got hit again. My barely healed ribs wouldn’t stand up to much of a beating and the bar whore who started this whole mess was leaning against a table grinning. She was holding my wallet and the bitch even blew me a kiss as she strolled towards the door.
A glint out of the corner of my eye got my attention and sure enough Weasel had pulled a knife. Fuck! This had gone from bar brawl to deadly in the space of a few minutes. Even drunk and with my reaction time considerably slower I still was not about to get stabbed. It hurt like a bitch and I hated hospitals with a passion. An elbow in the face took care of the knife wielder and he dropped the weapon and clutched at his now streaming nose. The satisfying crunch when I hit told me the nose was broken. My inattention to Beer Gut though cost me another jab to the face as well. I was able to block it so the fist only glanced off my cheek. Even though it still snapped my head back. Despite his bulk this guy was a brawler and I was getting pissed. I ducked under his next swing and planted my fist into the wall of fat hanging over his belt. The huge guy wheezed and bent forward.
I grabbed him by the hair and smashed his face into the table. In fact I did it a few more times just to hear the meaty smack of it connecting. This was getting fun and I wanted to heap on the abuse. It was as if the guy in my grip represented every shitty thing that had happened recently in my life. It was only when the shouts and a few screams finally penetrated my haze did I stop and look down at the mess I’d made. Beer Gut was unconscious and the table top was smeared with blood. I could feel the grin on my face and was instantly horrified. Oh… God… I’d totally lost it. Just like from before when the blood lust would take me and I actually enjoyed the violence. I was beyond fucked up. I was broken and had no idea how to fix myself.
In a panic I looked around the room. The bartender had a baseball bat and looked ready to come at me if I even so much as twitched wrong. The rest of the sparse customers had cleared the space around my table and stood watching. If this had been a better neighborhood the cops would have been here already. I’m betting though that cops were trouble the bar was not willing to invite. I had to get the hell out. I had to get away from what I’d done and from the smell of blood. Beer Gut was now curled up on the floor groaning and I was fucking grateful I’d not killed the guy. The few people in my way backed up as I edged towards the door. I was trouble and they wanted me gone. I pushed through the opening and was outside. The fear lodged itself in my stomach and I took off. I didn’t give a shit where I just needed to run. As if I could outrun what I’d just done… even so I was more than willing to try. I was soaked to the skin within minutes and still I ran.
Even when a stitch in my side made me gasp for air I did not stop moving. Only when my vision blurred and my knees buckled did I try and get a hold of myself. I staggered into a telephone pole and wheezed. I hurt…my body and my heart. I was in danger of becoming the monster I used to be. It lurked close to the surface just waiting for another chance. I was also ashamed. Where was the whole person I was not more than a few months ago? The person who had two people to love him and had the strength to love them back. Was it all a lie I created to hide the real me? Was I still the same person that got stuck in that prison so he couldn’t hurt anyone? The bitter truth of the matter was that I did not honestly know any more.