My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

Chapter Two - Run Dry

Yup. I knew I was going to end up here, but I don't care. This is when the fun begins. Yeah I'm an extremely happy drunk, but I still forget what the fuck I did and/or not in control of my actions. Whichever comes first.

I sit down on a stool away from everyone else. I hold up my index finger, "One please."

The bartender gives me the shot, "I'm starting to get worried about you." He says then leaves to tend someone else.

"Oh whatever," I mutter under my breathe then downs the shot. I hold the glass up for a second then sets it back down on the counter.

The waiter comes back and pours me some more whiskey, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Oh shut up," I say as I bring the glass to my lips and swallowing the liquid. The whiskey burns as it goes down my throat. I already feel it kicking in, "More!"

"Sir, please stop now before it's to late." He looks at me with sympathetic and worried eyes.

"Why do you care," I look at his name tag and back to his eyes, "P-Peter?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Well, you are a bartender and all. It's your job to let people like me drown their sorrows in liquor."

"Well," Peter mocks me, "Bartenders know when someone is troubled and no they don't let people like you do that. They just don't care. Me for instance, I actually care. You come here every night, you threaten me that you will kill yourself over some gibberish. Just please don't. I am worried you will actually kill yourself one of these days."

"Blah blah blah. Just pour me more." He sighs then pours me more and leaves with the bottle of whiskey in arms reach. Thank God.

I grab the bottle and downs the whole thing. Bad idea. I get this dizziness, I blackout.

"Sir? Sir!" I hear someone faintly.

"Sir! Wake up!" I hear someone else while they shake me slightly.

"What do you think is wrong with him?" The first person asks.

"I believe he drank to much to fast. I told him not to." Another voice explains.

"Well, he's still breathing."

I flutter my eyes open ever so slightly. I see people looking down on me. One on my side with there hand on my stomach. I sit up groggily, "What happened?"

"Sir, you drank to much." Peter says looking at me annoyed.

"Yeah, I should've listened to you, but just one more shot then I am quiting forever."

"I think that's a bad idea." Says the man that is at my side.

"No! Give me one more shot!" I stand up angrily.

"Sir, calm down."

"You shut the fuck up!" I scream at the man.

"Calm down!" A woman says putting her hand in my shoulder. The only reaction I have, I punch her in the face, causing her to fall and hit her head on one if the stools. Knocking her our with a gash in her head already pouring out with blood.

"What...w-what did I just do?" I put my hands on my face, stepping away shaking everywhere, "I-I'm so sorry. Here," I pick up the woman bridal style, "I-I'm sorry!" I run out of the bar to the nearest hospital.

What kind of monster have I turned into?