Remember. I don't exactly remember how I had gotten home from that party. I remember walking in and heading straight to the kitchen. I remember drinking, maybe 6 or so shots. I remember being pulled away. I don't remember who pulled me away or anything after. I remember waking up with a throbbing head, and that's all.
If the girl across from me is a missing piece, I don't care much about solving the puzzle. She wasn't ugly but I wasn't looking. Why would I need a girl when I'll be dead soon anyway.
"Can you go fetch my drink now?" I ask
"I don't know can I?" She says back to me.
"You seem physically capable to do so." I roll my eyes
"He better be glad I won't spit in his drink." She mutters while walking away
"Fucking disgusting." I think to myself
When she brings back my drink I thoroughly inspect it. After looking from top to bottom, putting a finger over the hole in the straw and lifting it, and stirring it, I find nothing. Still I ask a passing waitress for a new drink.
When she comes back I thank her, and when the girl who supposedly took me home comes I say nothing. Noticing her name tag I find out her name is Kehlani. It's a nice name but never would I admit that.
Handing her my menu I tell her I want the SouthWest Chicken Burger. After writing it down on her notepad she walks away. Fifteen minutes later I have my food, and ten minutes after that I'm done and getting ready to leave. Receiving the check, I pay and leave a four dollar tip. She may not have been the best waitress but she did her job.
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(6/18/19) published 9/28/19
YOU ARE READING
When I'm Dead
Short Story"Some people think pain is only physical, but nothing can compare to the mental pain or the emotional pain. The pain where you feel your body shut down. The salty tears burning your eyes, the lump that's stuck in your throat from trying to hold back...
