Where is my mind

2

I paced up and down the street a couple times, taking long drags of my cigarette to warm my cold lungs and calm my raging nerves. Curtains parted on some of the houses alongside the street, faces peering out wondering what the fuck I was doing. I glared back and flipped them off, which made the occupants shrink back into the darkness of their homes. They're watching you. Watch your back. They're gonna tell everyone all about you. I breathed in more, but barely feeling any smoke, I looked at the end of my cigarette, now smokes down to the butt. Fuck this. I fling the butt onto the road and strode over to The Alibi.

The small bell overhead ringed as I hauled open the door, hurrying into the warmth of the bar, still shaking from the cold air from outside. Ripping off my hat as I took a seat at the end of the counter, I yelled over at Kevin requesting a beer. A second later he came over and expertly popped the cap off on the side of the counter. He always was a show off.

"Someone givin' you shit again?" Kevin grinned, and I rolled my eyes.

"Can't I just come in to have a drink?" I snarled.

Kevin huffed out a laugh, "if your life's that simple."

I slowly squeezed my eyes shut and brought the bottle up to my chapped lips. My life ain't fuckin' simple. Never has. Never will. Fuck, I wish it was. I sat there in silence, not bothering to participate with the other men arguing against Frank over some dumb ass scam. Not bothering to look over towards Svetlana when she comes down every now and then to take up another old greasy pig to blow. My eyes never left the bottle of vodka on the counter behind Kevin.

"Yo! Mick!" Kevin yelled and waved his hands in front of my face, ripping me away from my thoughts. "God man what're trying to do? Stare a hole in the wall?"

I seethed and took another sip of beer, welcoming the familiar burn as the alcohol ran down my throat. What's wrong with you?

"I don't know," I muttered.

"What?" Kevin questioned in confusion.

When my mistake dawned on me, my brain scrambled to find a subject to cover my error. And of course it had to be fucking Ian Gallagher.

"Have you seen Gallagher lately?"

"Lip?"

"No. The redhead."

"Wha? He owe you money or somethin'?"

"Come on man you seen him or what?" I pressured on. He's probably dead in a ditch. My face paled. Wait, no, I don't have feelings. I tell myself again and again I don't care, I don't care, but urgency still rose within me, and fear began to take over. "Is he back form the Army? The hell is he?"

Kevin put his hands up, "chill man he works at a club now."

What? When did he get back? Anger boiled inside of me now, and it felt comforting experiencing an emotion I was so used to. He was back, and he didn't even tell me? I suffered for months and he didn't even tell me? Maybe he was gone for only two fucking weeks! I wouldn't have even known 'cause no one ever fucking tells me anything!

"What's the name?"

"Fairytale."

"You fuckin' with me? What kind of gay ass name is that?" Kevin just shrugged and produced a paper and pen from under the counter, beginning to scribble something down. Handing the paper off to me, I stared down at the address and scanned the jumble of numbers and letters. He's lying. He doesn't want to actually see you. No one told you he was back. No one likes you. I shook my head and barreled out the door back into the frozen Chicago air. The sun was just beginning to set. How long was I out? It wasn't that long. Did I do something else? I couldn't remember. I started my way back home, trying to ignore the surreal feeling surrounding me. It could be so much easier. Stay with us.

"Who the hell are you?" I breathe as I trudge through the snow littering the sidewalk. Friends. I stop in my tracks, as the devilish voices seem to come from right beside me. Turning my head, black grinning figures crouched in the distant trees behind a row of houses like vultures. MY heart rate sped up and my pace turned into a sprint. Almost cracking my damn head open on the pavement multiple times from slipping on the ice, I finally arrived at the Milkovich house. Stumbling up the steps, I crashed through the door into the living room where a few of my brothers were drinking and watching some cheap horror flick. The room reeked of marijuana and I immediately snatched a joint off the coffee table. All eyes were on me as I charged down the hallway and burst through my bedroom door. Turning into the bathroom, I slammed the door behind me and locked it, hoping it'll keep the things at bay. Sifting through the junk in my coat pocket, I eventually come up with my lighter. After many curses and failed attempts to get a flame to the lighter, I come to successful light the joint that was pinched in between my lips. I moaned at the feel of the drug as it began to seep its' way into my veins as I inhaled. I could hear their muffled whispers as they consulted one another. Probably judging me on my every thought and move. I sat on the cold tile floor for a while until I eventually slumped over and crashed due to the lack of sleep from many previous nights.