Don't Forget

“Yeh straigh’ pissed, love,” he laughed so hard I was sure liquid was going to spill from his nose. My cheeks were as red as the comforter by now as I sprawled myself across the bed. He sat a distance away from me in an armchair, though he was just as lazily spreading his legs open. More than half the bottle was gone and resting calmly on the bedside.

It took me a few moments to compose myself from the movie he’d put in. “Well don’ put in such a funny fuckin’ movie an’ get me wasted, yeah?” I hiccupped once, something unusual for me. He’d popped in Liar Liar with Jim Carrey.

“Knew yeh’d like it,” he said as he winked at me, pulling another shot from the bottle before handing it to me. “Don’ spill.”

“Aye,” I nodded. I did the same as he did; only I chugged. I didn’t stop until I was three or four shots in, and even then it was only because he grabbed the bottle from me and put it back on the table.

He menacingly intertwined his fingers and peered at me with a smirk gliding across his face. “Yeh a ‘eavy drinker?”

I paused and shrugged. “’s been a while, I s’pose. ‘ow bout yeh, mister ‘I ‘ave two full bottles o’ liquor; now yeh choose?’” I teased while making a serious face.

He busted out in a round of laughter, revealing his two sharp canine teeth. He was more drunk than he was leading on. “I like drinkin’! Better than gettin’ high or anythin’.”

I watched him inquisitively. “Yeh smoke?” He nodded slowly, still smiling. I shrugged and hiccupped again. “Neva’ woulda guessed.”

“Got somefin for yeh!” he exclaimed suddenly as he jumped onto his feet. I closed an eye so that he was no longer in doubles. He stumbled into the kitchen and disappeared into a cabinet. I tried to keep my head up, but realized it was futile and let gravity pulleme back to the bed. I stared at the engraved ceiling and watched it spin, feeling a warmth in my body that I wasn’t used to. Damn I missed drinking. It was so different from being high. It felt like the gentlest of embraces.

I didn’t even realize he’d appeared back at my side, peering into my eyes through sunglasses with his hands behind his back. I grunted and reached my hand up, aiming for the eyewear on his face. He scooted back just enough so I couldn’t grab them. “Take em off!” I demanded playfully. I was finally getting comfortable with this man, whether it was induced by alcohol or actual personality acceptance.

He ignored my request. “Pick a hand.” I shook my head groggily and he chuckled, picking for me. He held his right hand out, revealing a bowl with cooked ramen noodles steaming from it. My brow immediately furrowed as I propped my weight onto my elbows. “’ere.”

“Noodles? Why? I thought yeh were gonna get me some more booze,” I smiled warmly. The expression on his face remained fixed and I frowned. “I’m not ‘ungry. But thank yeh.”

“C’mon, yeh gotta eat, Chris,” he urged, moving the bowl closer to me. With wavering fingers, I grabbed the dish out of his grasp and set it on the side table. I held my breath the entire time, hoping I wouldn’t catch its scent and succumb to actually eat it. He instantly looked disappointed.

“No,” I said sternly, bringing the bottle of alcohol to my lips. He eagerly pulled it away before I could get more than a sip down my throat. “Wha’ the fuck?”

“Yeh’re too skinny and pale, and I know yeh ‘aven’t eaten in quite a while,” he lectured. “Why won’ yeh eat?”

“Why won’t yeh take those stupid glasses off, huh?” I countered immaturely, now standing to my feet in an attempt to size him up. I heavily relied on the bed behind me to keep my knees locked so I wouldn’t fall. “We’re indoors. Take ‘em off.”

He shrugged towards the food he’d prepared. “Alrigh’. But yeh ‘ave to eat first.”

I immediately recognized my anger through my intoxication, which amplified it dangerously. “Who the fuck are yeh, my mum?” I shouted, probably louder than I should have. He seemed taken aback as I retrieved my satchel from the counter in the kitchen.

“Where are yeh goin’?” I didn’t respond. “Look at yeh; yeh can’t even walk a straight line! Calm down and ‘ave a sit again.”

“Yeh have such a way with gettin’ under my skin,” I seethed through slurred lips. I stumbled towards the front door. “Yeh remind me of…”

“Of who?” he immediately cut me off, raising his own voice.

“See yeh around,” I murmured, twisting the handle and slamming the door behind me.

~~~~

I vaguely remembered how I had gotten here. I was aware of where I was due to the same box spring mattress I’d stumbled upon and the bright lights of the hotel across the street; I just didn’t remember the trip here; or how and when it had suddenly turned from night to day.

It took quite a bit of energy just to open my eyes. I knew that I would have a headache with the nausea of sea sickness to match it. The sky above me was clear and blue, which brought a small smile to my lips; even if the world was spinning. I groaned loudly and tried my hardest to sit up.

“Fuck!” I hissed as the back of my head immediately felt like I had just taken a bullet. Instinctively, I maneuvered my hand to the spot I felt pain and with one finger just barely brushed against the area. I felt broken skin; and a lot of it. I retrieved my shaking hand back so I could see it and my jaw dropped when I gazed upon the crimson liquid on my finger. I began to breathe heavily and felt again, this time with my palm. I moaned loudly in pain as I traced the incision on the back of my head. My whole body began to tremble. “What the fuck?”

Without paying attention to my pain I rolled over and studied the mattress, now coated with blood. My blood. I scanned over the alley, searching for anything, or anyone, that may have done this.

“Yeh hit yer head,” a voice spoke from the end of the alley. In panic I scurried around, still on just my knees and watched him through blurred eyes. The sun glinted off his glasses. He uncrossed his arms and slowly made his way towards me.

“Did yeh do this?” I shouted in fear, pointing an accusing finger at him. The back of my head was throbbing in pain so roughly that I genuinely expected to pass out.

“What?” he asked in surprise as he stopped just meters away from me. “Yeh fell, yeh gob.” My breathing began to steady as I blew my disheveled hair out of my face. “Yeh barely made it out of the building without face planting down the hotel stairs.” He sighed and chuckled. “Yeh’re lucky tha’ I came after yer drunk arse just a few minutes later and found yeh sprawled about yellin’ at anyone who tried to ‘elp.”

My cheeks instantly turned red in embarrassment as I pulled my knees into my chest and rest my forehead against them. I needed my pills, I needed water, but this pain was the last thing I needed. I heard the soles of his shoes near me and gazed up, now crying silently.

“I tried ‘elpin’ yeh and yeh hit me. I watched yeh try to crawl yer drunk arse back ‘ere. I watched yeh for almost an hour to make sure yeh weren’t gonna die or anythin’. I would’ve taken yeh inside but if yeh would’a woke up in my arms I was scared yeh were gonna try to take my life,” he explained through tight lips as he held his hand out. “C’mon. Don’t fuckin’ argue; nothin’. Let’s get inside and clean yeh up.”

My lower lip quivered as my hand met his. “Yeh didn’t ‘ave to,” I whispered as he pulled me to my feet. He made me wrap my arm around his waist for balance as we started out of the alley.

“Yeah well I wasn’t gonna fall asleep knowin’ yeh could be dead in the alley across the street.”