Our Happy Town

Chapter 4: Where Nobody Knows Your Pain

The air in the bar is always nice and cool. It always feels nice against my fur, especially on warmer summer days.

This is where people go to get away. A few people often come here to drown their sorrow and pain in large amounts of alcohol, some for obvious reasons and others for more personal ones. Nobody really ever talks about why they're here, at least not without a few drinks.

"I'll take the usual Cooly," I say to the lamb behind the counter.

"Sorry Shapey," a bleating voice replies, "I have to see your ID first. It would be baa-d for business if I didn't follow the rules."

With a groan, I reluctantly pull my wallet out. "You already know I'm old enough to drink. Why don't we just skip the ID check and save us both some time?"

He looks over the card carefully, as if making sure it wasn't fake. "I just have to make sure. Gotta make the boss proud."

"Whatever, just pour me a drink," I say.

He gets to work, pulling out a mug and filling it up.

Minutes blur together into seconds. Words become meaningless. Thoughts were no more than scribbles on a blank canvas. All Shapey could focus on was the way the alcohol burned as he choked it down. It made his brain melt and dull. He was already on his fifth drink, or maybe it was his sixth? He wasn't paying attention, nor did he even care. Why was he here again?

It didn't matter. Nothing did. He was just glad he could drop his facade. His stupid happy mask. Nobody cared who you were or what had happened to you here. You could be dealing with the misery of a dead son like Mrs. Lark, or if you were clinically depressed like... like...

He downed more of the alcohol and stared down at the brown counter. Wait, that is brown, right? No, it looks more like a reddish color. Hmmm... That's not right. A little more red drips down onto the wooden surface. Oh. Am I bleeding? I reach up and feel my face. Yep, that's definitely glass sticking out. That's funny, I don't feel any pain.

I look up to ask Cooly for a band-aid or something, but he's not there. In fact, I'm completely alone. Where is everyone? It's probably fine. Nothing but me and wind. Wind... What wind? The air feels so stagnant. Or maybe my senses aren't working. What's that ringing in my ears?

I get out of my seat. It's probably time to go home. Home. What's home again? Wait, I know this one. Walking out reveals that outside is no different than inside, or maybe it's the other way around. It's empty and stale, large cracks in the sidewalk and nothing where there once was people. Actually, I think it might've always been like this. Yeah, that probably sounds right.

My empty footsteps echo through the... through what? Where am I again? The middle of the street. No, wait. Something isn't right.

Bright twin beams of light interrupt my thoughts, getting closer and closer.

Wait, that's a car.