Absent

Chapter 23: Not-so-earned progress

Wastelands of Today. I read the direction again, hoping to see my mistake. But there is none. I take deep breathes and decide to get this over with. I open the door to the bar and walk inside, absorbing the smoke and smell of liquor that infects my lungs. The smoke from the cars outside is better than this environment.

It's hard not to notice that there are only men here, or women wearing skirts and tops, or almost no clothing. Have some respect for yourselves, geez.

But I'm not here for them.

I search the area twice, but I can't spot Lindsey anywhere. I begin to walk my way through big-beard guys that rape me with their eyes, until the music stops. I see a girl stand up on a table and raise a glass. "For alcohol!"

"For alcohol!" The audience replies in unison. The girl on the table giggles and covers her face with her hair, pretending to be scary.

"Rehab can suck it!" She says, and falls of the table. I rush to her side and kneel, taking her hair out of her face.

"Lindsey." I confirm, and sigh. She looks around disoriented, and then puzzled at me. It takes her a while, but she recognizes me. And then she makes a disgusted face, and tries to break free from me. Two men, both fat and muscled, come over to check on Lindsey's riot.

"Is she bothering you?" They ask Lindsey, pointing at me.

"I have authority over her, so leave us alone." I answer, sounding as strict as I can manage.

"Like hell you do." Lindsey replies, with a breath stinking of alcohol. "Boys, take her off me."

They share a devious smile and walk towards me slowly. I understand I need to run, but the second I'm on my feet, someone throws a glass at my head. I fall down and everything is out of focus. I can't tell what all the colors I see mean, or if anything is moving or not. I feel someone grabbing me and pulling me up, but my eyes can't tell the motion, instantly causing me to throw up.

Twice.

In my misery, the fog abandons my vision and I can see the disastrous fight taking over. I reach over to Lindsey, still drunk and forgotten on the floor, and drive her away with me. We leave the bar and I throw up again, having dizziness attacking at the top of my head. "Your hair is red." I hear Lindsey saying, and giggling. Then she falls down again, complaining about how gravity and everything can and should suck it.

I order my stomach to control itself and let me finish my task: getting Lindsey back to the apartmemt. She had been missing for an entire week, and that's just something I won't allow.

I drag her out of the back alley and to a cab who had been waiting for us. The driver reminds me of the money still running and I just nod, hoping that the rest of the food currently stored in my stomach won't be a problem.

I pay the cab driver and we exit. Lindsey is vaguely aware of where am I taking her, but she is trying to say something to me. I ignore her until we have entered the apartment (which is in the fifth floor, meaning I threw up at least one more time) and let her fall to the floor. She presses her face to it, murmuring something about how cool it is.

I lie against a wall, and slowly slide down. I need a bath. Lindsey does too. "I hate you." She whispers.

"Good to know."

"I seriously do... You are Heather, right?"

"I think so."

"Well, Heather is a bitch."

"Why's that?"

"Because she makes me feel guilty. I don't want to feel guilty. I just want to get drunk and live my fucking life alone."