TAG

Chapter 1:

I sat alone at the bar. Just trying to drink my sorrows away, like there was even enough goddamn booze in this world to even wish this away. I grew up in a world where my mom never loved me. My dad a heavy drinker, so shout out dad for passing along this selfish habit.

It's funny, I'm sitting here while I'm sure half these idiots think I'm boozing over a boyfriend when it's my own parents. Booze doesn't work for this type of break up. I don't think anything does. This type of pain leaves a pretty intense soul wound.

I turn to my right and see this no good looking homeless bum, but who am I to judge. I smile and hold up my most recent shot glass filled with Tequila.
I
"Salutations my good man", I remark drunkenly to the homeless shit of a man. He smiles and raises his glass back at me.

All of a sudden he gets up from his bar stool and makes his way to me. I tense up, not meaning to but I've been around a drunk my whole life. It worries me to be around this drunk ass, but here I sit. Maybe I just don't care anymore. I'm eighteen and the damage has been deeply done.

The homeless guy sits right next to me, slaps the bar causing me to cringe. The bartender just pours homeless guy another drink.

The homeless man doesn't even say anything, maybe he knows I need the company.

We sit in silence for a couple heartbeats when he says "What's a young gal doing in a dump like this anyways, what did that boyfriend do"?

I look over and with a fake smile to hide my hurt I reply, " My parents are good people, but they've caused so much emotional damage that I just couldn't take anymore. I'm young and it feels like I've lived a hundred lifetimes. I just want them to love me, like truly love me. Love me in a way that doesn't hurt".

The homeless guy pauses, "In a world like this, there's people that let their own trauma control them. They get to the point that when they have kids they pass down their hurt and pain to them because they never accepted what happened to them. They still feel like deep down they deserved it so now they want to make you feel like you deserve it too".

Wait, hold up. Could this homeless guy really know this? I just sit there staring at him. I want to cry. He nailed it, how could I not notice this. It still doesn't make it okay.

We keep conversing back and forth about situations in our lives where we've been treated unfairly. The homeless guy tells me his name is John. I tell him my name is Amanda.

We laugh and giggle a bit. He laughs when I tell him my age and show him my fake ID.

All of a sudden a fight breaks out in the bar between two dumb asses and John rushes to stop it. I go after him to make sure he doesn't get hurt in the fight.

It's crazy, as a society we just judge people by looking at their appearance and never care about the inside which is who they truly are.

John is still trying to break up the fight when he takes a hit in the face at record speed. John flies back and hits his head on one of the tables.

I rush over, worried.

"John...John, are you okay"? I scream.
His eyes open and he starts laughing. I punch him in the arm. "Dude"!

He just laughs more. I help him up and help him over to the unisex bathroom to help him clean up his cuts and make sure he doesn't have a bump on his head.

I take the grimy looking paper towel. Squirt and yes, squirt a shit load of soap on that paper towel. It literally looks like someone took a shit wiped there ass then rolled it on a cardboard cylinder.

While I'm doing this, I can't help thinking how beautiful John's eyes are for a homeless man. You can see the wisdom. Almost feel it too when he looks at you. It's nice that I met John. Maybe instead of getting drunk, meeting John and learning from him is all I needed. Hopefully, he can walk me at least half way home. I don't trust no one.

After I finish cleaning up John, he smiles and thanks me and we head back out to the bar.
We sit back down at the bar and toast to our fortunes and new friends and good luck on our futures. However fucked they may be.

I ask John if he could possibly walk me home. He doesn't have to know it's only partly. He says he can just long as I wear his jacket.

I hate jackets. Always have. People acting like my crazy ass gets cold. What a fucking laugh.

I still agree because well it is cold and it's John. We start walking and I realize how extremely dark it is. How each wrapping corner of these blocks it seems to get darker and darker.

Quick question city makers. Where in the fuck are the street lights? This is a snatch and grab waiting to happen. Like for real. It's like these people forgot to plug in their brains that day and now us ladies have to suffer.

John's real quiet. He quickly remarks that he hates the dark. I tell him I do too. We walk faster. Once we hit half way. I act like I'm heading into my apartment. Thankfully that first apartment door to one the complex's is open and I slip inside. I watched John walk down the stairs but that's all I could see. After waiting about ten minutes, I step out swiftly.

I start walking pretty fast. I just want to get home. I hum a little bit to comfort my shaking self.

It's almost like......."tag you're it"!

*smack*

*black out*