FicWad

I drove home as safely as possible, the rain not making things any easier though.
My vision seemed clouded, and it wasn't until I looked at myself in the rear view mirror did I realize I was crying.

I pounded on the steering column, pissed at myself. Pissed for crying over something so stupid as the unfolding drama that had been casted from just one dead person.
I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand, then reached into the center console...

The apartment seemed dank and cold, it needed some life.
I drew the curtains, letting the pale gray daylight in, turning on all the lights of the apartment.
I smiled to myself sheepishly, taking a seat at my kitchen table.
I sat heavily, lighting up a cigarette and leaning back, eyes closed.

It was kicking in nicely, the oxykodone was a nice touch to the mood.
I let it swallow me, the waves of warmth and swirling colors in my mind carry me like a lifeboat in the waves of the ocean.

Lola Chloe, how this insignificant person seemed to be the root of all that was going on.
The book that I had gotten from the store listed her as a local of a neighboring county, only about an hour and a half worth of driving. Did I really have the will to meet up with her and hold a conversation? In my mind, I felt I was not worthy for an audience with her.
She, this accomplished, witty, well-versed writer. And me, this washed up, pil popping, failure of a literary genius, who backs out on his so called friends.

Fuck it, this was ruining the mood. I needed some alcohol..yes some nice cognac or such.
I slowly rose to my feet, making my way to the minibar I had set up on my kitchen counter.
I searched for it, found the intricate bottle, and poured myself a snifter.

"You really shouldn't drink that right now."

I turned, surprised and shocked.

Gwen stood in the doorway of the apartment, soaked.

"It'd be a bad combination with what you're on," she continued, removing her wet coat and setting it onmy coat rack.

She casually took a seat at the table, brushing the wet locks of hair from her eyes.
I lowered the glass, setting it back down on the counter, my mind blank.

"How'd you get here?" I asked.

"Walked. All the way from the church."

"Why?" I stammered.

She managed a smile, "We need to talk some more."

I shuffled over, "About what? About how I'm feeling? What I'm thinking?"

She shook her head, "Why?"

I collapsed back into the chair across from her, my mind wandering madly, across fields, hills, mountains, a subconcious journey that refused to halt.

"Look at me!" she shouted, pounding the table with her open palm.

I jumped, snapping back into reality, "What?! What do you want from me?!"

She scooted in closer, leaning forward, looking into my eyes, "How much did you take?"

I smirked, "Not nearly enough."

She looked away in disgust, "How many Tyler?"

I sighed heavily, "About two. Not enough to last, it will wear off in half an hour I think."

"Not likely."

I cast her a tired glance, "Ugh! What do you want Gwen? You came into my house to chastise me?!"

"No, I came here because right now, wether you like it or not, you need someone with you."

I laughed, covering my face with my hands, the sensation making my face feel icy hot and tingly.

"You do Tyler. I'm worried about you, after all that has happened. I know you won't admit it openly, but you're sad," she said, her voice ringing with concern.

I slowly rubbed my face with my hands, "Yeah. Okay."

"And alone."

I stopped moving around.

"And hurt."

I bit my lower lip, stifling myself.

"And unloved."

I looked away, gritting me teeth as always. I couldn't help but turn and look at her from the corner of my eye. She leaning forward, her arms stretched out, her hands slowly gliding towards me.

"Yeah. Right. You know nothing about me," my voice was tight and cold.

"I'm sure. Just as I'm sure you know nothing about me," she said softly, not moving away from me.

"But there are things I do know. I know you are a caring person, I know that you have morals, ideals, principles, and opinions. All of those are valuable things, things that make a person decide what is right and what is wrong. No matter what you say or do Tyler, you will always be a good person to me."

I looked down at my shoes, not knowing what to say or feel or even think about all of this.

She continued, "Your mother tells me alot of things about you. How you've lost almost all of your friends from drugs, war, or moving away. She tells me you had a hard childhood, your father-"

"Don't mention him ever again! You hear me?" I snapped at her.

She didn't lose her cool, almost as if she knew that what she had said would upset me.

"He hurt you, bad...didn't he? Your mother never talks about him. It usually brings her to tears if the subject comes up. He put you in the hospital, that's all she told me."

I clutched my arms with both my hands, squeezing and digging my finger nails into my flesh.

"I'm not here to make judgements on you or your family Tyler. I'm only here beause I think you need someone. It could be anyone really, but there aren't that many people right now who are there to talk to. But I am."

She got up from her seat, moving closer to me with slow, steady steps.

"Let me in Tyler. Let me he-"

I intterupted her with my standing up suddenly. I moved back to the glass of booze.

"That's not going to help Tyler. Believe me, I know." she said sadly.

I desperately wanted this drink. My hand wouldn't move. I tried harder and harder to raise the glass to my lips, but my tightly clenched hand only shook. I squeezed harder on the glass, desperate.

"Tyler?"

I shattered the glass in my hand, sending shards and stinging cognac everywhere. My hand was cut deep.

Gwen came over, taking my hand in hers, "Here, put this on it, I'll be right back," she said as she wrapped my hand gingerly in a clean hand towel she had found by the sink area.

I nodded, feeling nothing but numb and shocked. I applied pressure, keeping my wounded hand elevated.

I tried to clean up the mess, but gave up on it.

She came back quickly, stopping in the hallway to look me over.
The light in the hallway shone behind her, her red dress almost sheer and see through.
The way she stood there, quiet, clean, and caring, it made me want her.
But I pushed the thought out of my head quickly, the pain kicking in as the pills began to wear off.

"Aww shit!" I cursed.

Gwen came up to me, "Here, let me help."