Sidewinder

Night Walker

There's always this thing about a curse. Normally those would say that it originates and could carry out through generations.

I would normally throw my head back and laugh, calling it's bluff.

But now. I've realized. I've been horribly wrong. Wronger than I had ever been on my entire damn life.

And now.

I am living my curse.

--

A sharp sting flared across my cheek. My eyelids hesitantly opened to see a woman hovering over me with a blanket of darkness surrounding her head. My vision was blurred out, the woman's hands reached towards my face. I try to lift my hand up to stop her but it doesn't budge an inch. My entire body felt like it was being pressed further into the ground.

A hushed voice stopped my train of thought. "You should wake up."

There was a slight ghost-like fog surrounding the woman, I couldn't make of what she looked like because of it. It was just her and I, immersed in complete darkness-not an object in sight.

"What....the...hell?" I grunted. My teeth were clenched together so my words became choked out. My entire body was frozen, including my teeth.

There was a light Creole accent to her voice.

"Edward!"

I could something firm but cold press against my forehead, forcing my eyes open to come face to face with the bartender-a.k.a Tamina Fields. My eyes shot on to my arms, the veins were nearly protruding out of my fair skin. My rough, calloused hands clenched into fists.

Tammy moves the whiskey bottle from my forehead. "Jesus, didja get any sleep?" She asks, setting the whiskey bottle back to the shelf behind her that withheld so many other alcoholic beverages. My hands slightly shook at the realization that me being paralyzed was just another terrible dream. With a grunt, I fork my fingers through my choppy hair.

Bright light shines over the bar. The other bartenders appeared to have clocked out due to the empty bar. Tammy and I worked at the Whiskey Coven, a bar that you'd find at the downtown area of New York, despite all the other fancier outlets.

The Whiskey Coven. The familiar scent of booze, cigarettes and cheap perfume and cologne. I work here as a bouncer, to keep people in line and to make sure that Tammy didn't have another dispute with her customers.

To tell you the truth, I don't know why I'm here or what Tamina could possibly see in me. Regardless, I am grateful that she isn't berating me or calling me a monster of some sort.

Tammy polishes another shot glass with a fresh rag, her back facing mine. Tammy was rather really petite, despite her broad shoulders and curvaceous figure. Her dark dreads had stopped above her shoulders and was pinned back in a ponytail, causing some strands to frame her face and underneath her African patterned head wrap that she always wore. She wore the classic bartender uniform: a satin button down dark shirt with black slacks.

She is the only person I really seem to get along with in this shithole town. The only woman that could actually look at me without being scared out of her wits.

We met here, at the bar. Some drunk fuck was trying to flirt with Tammy even though she told the man numerous times to stop. It was all fun and games until he hopped over the bar and tried to kiss her, in which I dragged him out of the bar. After the dispute ended, Tammy thanked me and offered me a job as a bouncer due to my quick reaction to guys like him. Her reaction really threw me in for a loop since I was used to women cowering in fear and running away from me in fears that I would "hurt them next".