Not So Super

Chapter Eight: The List

Death

Adam took off my mask from over the bar. Before he could keep it I took it from his hand and put it back but his time I let it hang from my neck.
"We're here to get you wasted." he said bringing out a bottle and two shot glasses.
He poured them, I took the shot and drank. I felt my throat burn.
Soon we were both drunk. He poured more into the glasses in a clumsy way, spilling drips here and there. We laughed for what ever reason.
"Man." I gulped down the drink. "Whiskey sure takes the pain out of my hands."
"What's that feel like?" he asked. "Being tortured?" He nodded
I gulped. "Very fucking scary. You don't know what the people are willing to do....and with all the pain I've been through emotionally, you wouldn't understand" I took another drink "Bull shit I wouldn't." He put his glass down I gave him the I dont believe you look and he got offended "Let me kickoff the list" he said raising his finger "My dad left when I was born, my mom was murdered eight years later where I was also shit, I lived in an orphanage for the next five years until I ran away and ended up here," he took a deep breath "Where I spent the next three years being beaten by drunk assholes as a bouncer and bartender, and then I decided to become who I am after I watched a murder in the alley
next-door" I put down my glass and looked at him. I took my mask hanging from my neck off.
"Sorry." I faced the bar.
"Yea." he answers.