One step beyond

14. Auburn and uneventful

Chapter 14

"Here you go. One coke." Said the waiter as he slid it across the stool to me. Currently I was sitting in a café around the bar where they make most their drinks. It was more like a stool with a bunch of people sitting around it. After my tantrum back home. I walked for about twenty minutes until I found a café called 'Gravity' which I found an interesting name for a café that is more bar-like, although it is a café and it's still morning. It is very obvious judging by the amount of sunlight entering the place through the windows. I wouldn't even say I've been here for a long time, maybe 30 minutes or so. It would be estimated to be 11 Am right now. I am not sure since I don't have neither a watch nor my phone since I left the house uninvited, and I don't feel like talking to people to ask them what the time was.

"Thanks." I smiled as I took the coke and poured it into a cup. This was also indeed my third coke since I came here. Most upset people would be coming here And getting drunk on beer or vodka, but me unlike most upset people, get drunk on coke. I am joking too by the way, as if that is not obvious, coke doesn't make you drunk. I do not like to drink either, as I am not a drinking person. I honestly found no aim in wanting to drink alcohol, why would anyone want to lose conscious? I don't like the idea of drinking something that you could put on your wound to heel it or clean it from contamination. It's also ironical how it heals your literal wounds, but only breaks your heart more as you lose conscious and grief about your life and anger, and do things you will, at a one hundred percent chance, regret the next morning. If you feel bad you could just sleep through your anger, sadness, and grief. Or like I would do, cry and eat it away. Lately death has been a close friend of mine, not as a literal friend, but it's feels like I simple can't take the so much emotions draining on me, and I just wanted to shut it out. The feeling of death, that is begging me to take over, the darkness, the nothingness.

"Are you trying to break a record or something?" I heard a faint voice with a more of an Australian accent ask from next to me. I turned my head to find a girl, maybe in her mid twenties, red hair tied back in a pony tail, and she Had on black jeans topping it with a Burgundian top. I looked at her for a slight second. I found it creepy that she figured I had drunk more than one coke, like she is somehow stalking me. I glanced at the drink in her hand and noticed she had an alcoholic beverage in her hand.

"No, I am drinking away the grief, and unlike some people," I waved my hand at her, " I don't want to kill myself doing so." I gave her a toothless, fake smile. She narrowed her eyes at me, and gave me a somewhat satisfied smile as if she is proud of me for sassing her back.

"People drink away the pain and grief. You look like you are drinking away the loss of your Barbie doll." She turned her body in her seat to face me, still holding her drink in her hand. Her red hair, was literally red. It looks like it is not normal, defiantly not normal. It was dyed auburn, I liked it. I would call her auburn head if I don't know her name, and since I don't it's her bad.

I gave her the best fake smile I am capable of, "isn't a little bit too early to drink." I pointed to her drink with my coke filled cup. "It's still morning." I pointed to the sun shining through the café's window.

"I should be asking you the same question." She smirked to herself in satisfaction. Auburn head turned her body towards the stool again, "not all of us can bare the pain, you know. Some of us just want to drink it away as quickly as possible." She said, with her thick Australian accent, then she took a glance at me the. Went back to her drink taking a sip.

"So why are you?.. Drinking? I mean" I asked, as I turned my body towards her. We were only sitting a few seats away from each other. I might not know this auburn stranger, but I wanted to hear her story. A part of me told me that hearing someone else's story and problems would make me somehow be grateful for my own, or would take my mind away from it. Another part of me told me that I wanted to know this stranger and call her my friend, and the first step to do so was ask for her problems and help her through it, yet I couldn't.