Short Stories

Strangers

" Drunken words are sober thoughts. "

"You need to slow it down." He waved the bartender off as he downed yet another shot of vodka. He was sick of everything, sick of this pitiful life, of the stress and all he wanted to do was drink until he passed out. His head was spinning and there was a constant buzz in his ears but he didn't pay attention. His thoughts were eating him alive, taunting him to drink more, to drink until he could no longer understand what was going on around him. He had no one, no friends, no girlfriend, wife, parents, family, no one. He was alone in this sadistic world and he was sick and tired of it. Suicide? Suicide would be too easy. He doesn't want to die because he took too many pills or because he tied himself to a rope and kicked the chair away. That seemed too easy so instead, he drowned himself in alcohol. It provided him a feeling of happiness for a while and he was content with that. Everything was blurry around him but still, he managed to spot her.

She was sitting a couple of stools away from him. Her head was resting in her hands, her elbows propped on the bar. Her hair was a vibrant purple, probably dyed and she was wearing a black dress. She wasn't gorgeous, just a normal girl. She looked around and her eyes landed on him. He was eyeing her curiously and she found herself feeling slightly uncomfortable. Her breath hitched in her throat when she saw him approaching. He sat right next to her.

"Can I buy you a drink?" He was tipsy but she accepted the offer nonetheless.

"What are you doing here on a Monday night?" he asked her. Normally, the bar was mostly empty except for the regular customers and some tourists.

"I could ask you the same thing." she retorted, turning to look at him as she sipped on her cocktail.

"Oh, I'm here every night." he laughed as her eyes widened.

"Every night? what? do you work here or something?" she asked. Now, she was curious.

"Nope, I'm an accountant." he replied. She should have noticed, he was a white shirt and a black tie which had been loosened.

"So you come here every night to drink?"

"Yeah, and there hasn't been a day where I returned home sober."

"Isn't that dangerous? Drinking so much everyday?"

"It's not like anyone cares." she noticed how his expression changed, shoulders slumping and she realised that it must be a sensible topic.

"Don't be pessimistic." she mumbled. She didn't know this guy but he made her heart race and she couldn't lie, there was something about him that intrigued her, "There's always someone who cares." Her words made him chuckle dryly.

"You're so naïve." he slurred with a drowsy smile, "No one cares, sweetheart. They're all going to leave eventually. So, why get attached? They're only going to hurt you, break you to the point where no one will be able to fix you."

"Stop,stop saying that!" she almost shouted, she had always hated pessimistic people and that guy's way of thinking sickened her, "Maybe some people don't care but that doesn't mean no one does. There are some people out there who love you, who care about you! You just have to let them in. Let them help you, let them give you the love you deserve. Don't push people away! I've spent my whole life doing just that and let me tell you that was certainly a bad decision!" Maybe it was the alcohol running through her veins that was giving her the little push that she needed or maybe it was the fact that she bottled her feelings until now but either way, she found herself arguing with this stranger whose name she still didn't know;

"I've pushed my family, my friends, everyone away. I had convinced myself that I was content with my loneliness, that it was easier and safer to be alone because no one would be able to hurt me but I was fucking wrong. It sucks to come home to an empty apartment every night and it sucks to sleep in an empty bed at night. Where did I go wrong?" He ran his hand through his hair, "I gave her my everything, I loved her with all my being. I changed so much for her! I quit smoking, I stopped drinking, I bought a flat, got a job. I was the perfect boyfriend but she was never satisfied! She always had something to ask, always pointed a flaw out and said she didn't like that about me. God , she was driving me insane but I couldn't get enough of her. She was toying with my heart, doing what she wanted and I let her. I just stood and watched as she crushed my heart and left." He was sure he looked crazy, talking about his pathetic excuse of a life to a girl he barely knew but he couldn't stop. He had kept his feelings bottled up since so long, he needed to get this off his chest.

"You'll get over it." she sighed, "you'll be okay. It all gets better in the end."

"No, it doesn't." He retorted, "It's been a whole fucking year and look at me, I'm a mess."

"You'll survive." She persisted, "It's not the end yet. You'll find someone who will love your fucked-up self. You just have to wait. Look at me, I'm still waiting for my guy to come but it looks like he got stuck in traffic." He didn't know her and she didn't know him but they had both just helped each other in ways none of them could explain.

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Author's Note:

Hey guys (: Hope you're doing good.

leave a comment maybe? vote as well?

- Nooree ♥