Heaven and Hell

Chapter 6: An Attempted Confession

"Is there something wrong, Smithers?"

Fuck

"Um...yes, actually, there's some- uh, something I want to talk to you about." He raised his eyebrows. "Um, something I've wanted to tell you for...quite some time," I said with a nervous chuckle.

I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this repeated over and over in my brain.

I don't care if you can't do it, you have to do it said my father's voice. You can't go all your life without telling him. You'll regret it for the rest of your life.

I can't let that happen, I told myself. I can't not have a chance of finally being with him, no matter how small the chance is.

"The truth is..." my throat felt like a desert. Then, I opened my mouth to speak again, but nothing came out. Mr. Burns continued to stare at me, his face full of utter confusion.

Just then, the doorbell rang, and I was saved from this awful confrontation to go answer it. It ended up just being a girl scout attempting to sell us some of those disgusting cookies; since I was feeling nice, I decided against releasing the hounds on her.

As I started back toward the dining room, I confirmed my anxious feelings that today was not the right time to tell him; although, every other part of me said otherwise. At this point, it would be years, if not decades, before I would come this close to confessing again.

As I sat back down in my seat, Mr. Burns asked me what I was going to say.

"Nothing," I said glumly. "Nothing," I repeated again, sighing and shaking my head.

"Are you sure?" he asked, concern apparent in his voice.

I frowned. Does he actually care about what I wanted to say?

"Um..." I trailed off as I desperately searched for the words I wanted to say. "I-I".

"Oh, Smithers I almost forgot to tell you..." and he launched into an explanation of something he read in the paper that morning.

I sighed. And just like that, the moment was gone, just as quickly as it had presented itself. All I wanted to do was slink down under the table and bawl my eyes out. Today would be the day I drank alcohol for the first time in two years.

After about two and a half hours of small talk and pretending like the most embarrassing moment of my life never happened, I was finally heading to Moe's to get a much-needed drink. At this point, I didn't care if I slipped back into my old addiction; the only thing I wanted was a drink. Well, maybe one other thing, but he's out of my reach now.

Pulling up to Moe's again after two years felt...nostalgic to say the least. It almost felt wrong, like I was breaking some sort of rule. Of course, there was a deep feeling in my gut screaming at me to stop before I got hooked again, but I silenced it.

Already feeling guilty that I was slipping back into my old ways, I opened the door and sat down at one of many available stools. Apparently, it was only Moe and me tonight. Usually, that oaf, Simpson, and some other workers from the plant would be here practically every night, just like I used to.

"Waylon...you're back," Moe said while cleaning some glasses. Even though he benefited financially from my being here, he didn't look happy to see me.

I nodded slowly with a sigh. "Just like the old days, huh?"

Moe's eyes darted around the room. "But, uh, didn't ya throw up at least twice a week in the 'old days' cuz ya drunk too much?"

I was very taken aback. Moe Syslack, of all people, was asking me to not drink. Moe Syslack, who cares about no one but himself. Was I hearing this correctly?

"Just give me a beer, Moe. I don't know why you're being so hesitant."

Moe reluctantly reached for a clean glass and filled it up with fresh beer from his tap. He sat it down in front of me, but before it could reach my lips, he said, "Ya know once you drink that...there's no goin' back. It's gonna be even harder to quit."

"I know what I'm doing, Moe!" I shouted.

"Right-sorry-I just-" He took a step back, almost like he was afraid of me.

"No, no. I-I didn't mean to shout." I sighed. "I'm sorry. I just- I-"

"It's Mr. Burns ain't it?" Moe said with a slight smirk.

"How did you know?"

"How would I not know?"

"That's true," I chuckled a bit as I downed my first mouthful of beer. After two years of being sober, it tasted so damn good.

"So...ya wanna tell me about it?" Moe asked, concern rooted in his voice.

"Sure," I responded.

This really was like the old days, wasn't it; me telling Moe all about the troubles I would have with Mr. Burns, and Moe would sit there, not really listening. Although, I never really minded that he didn't listen all that much. I just needed to tell someone.