Torture

I

1984

I sat at one of my favorite bars, indulging in a glass of whiskey. Turning twenty one had given me the liberty to spend most of my days pretending to be in a drunken stupor. It was for my own amusement of course. The thing is I'm nothing like the people here. I wasn't an alcoholic like the poor fellow to my left whose eyes were yellowing from liver disease, stomach pregnant with cheap beer. Pathetic really. I also wasn't looking for a quick fuck like most of the people my age. What I was looking for though, was a victim. Specifically a woman.

I took another sip of whiskey, overcome with boredom. Tonight was not going in my favor. "Hey!" a voice greeted from my right. My eye twitched with irritation. I was in no mood to socialize--then again when was I ever? I turned to the stranger with a tight-lipped smile. A pair of warm brown eyes met mine. I skimmed over her appearance which was rather flashy for my tastes. She was wearing a black leotard, matching tights, with neon green leg warmers. "Just got back from aerobics huh?" I half-joked. She fidgeted, darting her eyes around the room as if someone was going to pop up and take her away. Ha! "Can you buy me a drink please?" There was a strange desperation in her voice that compelled me to offer my help. "Alright, what would you like?". She sat down on the barstool beside me, muttering "Anything is fine."

"Another whiskey please."

She watched intently as the brown liquid poured smoothly into the glass. I didn't understand what was so fascinating. Has she never had a drink before? I cleared my throat, "So what's your story?". I had a habit of using this phrase whenever someone has piqued my interest. Skip the bullshit and straight into the good bits. "This weirdo has been following me ever since I left aerobics class, I told him I wasn't interested but he won't leave me alone." I nodded, pretending to understand what seemed like such a trivial matter to me. "So you come to a bar with even more weirdos?" the term made me chuckle. She smiled ever so faintly, "Well you're not a weirdo are you?". I brought the glass to my lips, trying to hide the smirk creeping onto my face. "I hope not, for your sake."

She was quiet after that.

I set the now empty glass back down. "Where's the guy now?". She tilted her head to the right. I followed the direction, surprised to see a gruff looking man standing outside, peering into the bar. What a coward. My gaze then fell onto her. She glanced up, tilting her head to the side. I feigned a smile, "Well you're more than welcome to stay in my company until he leaves".

After a few more drinks, she finally relaxed, allowing me to know quite a bit about her. She was one of those people that poured their heart, unfiltered to strangers which was amusing since I didn't take her for the type. The facts were; she was eighteen (that impressed me since her vocabulary didn't consist of annoying slang such as rad, tubular, duh, etc, etc), she had a dog back home named pumpkin pie (which I couldn't help but snort at), she was an only child, spoiled rotten, and last but not least she was in love with being in love.

The subject then turned to me. "And what's your story?" She questioned. I couldn't hide the bitter expression on my face. No one ever asked about my story. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you." Her lip stuck out in a pout. "Can I at least know your name?". My suspicion grew. Perhaps she was an agent sent by the FBI. Serial killers were popular these days. I need to be careful. "Jason Law". A simple white lie. It was my pen name, and it's not like she had read any of my works.

I didn't realize she was staring, probably waiting for me to ask for her name. I didn't care, but if I wanted to keep up this façade of a gentleman, it would require effort. How bothersome. "And your name is?".
"Kimberly but my friends call me Kay". So now we were on a friendship basis? I swirled my drink around. This was almost too easy. "Well Kay, I'm glad we met". She giggled. Her flushed cheeks puffing up in a smile. It was attractive. I found that odd since normally smiling was ugly and unnerving.