Keeping Secrets from Myself

I looked up and down the street: next to no one around. I need a crowd to get lost in. The last time I felt this way I ended up three states away and missing six days of my life, but I was alone. Maybe if I surround myself with people something different will happen.

Different is good. I guess. But whatever happens, happens. I’ve learned to deal with it.

Fugue state. That’s what the doctors say. I don’t think it really matters what you call it, since it screws up my life no matter what.

I turned the corner and saw a group of maybe six people heading into a bar. See? I can’t even concentrate enough to count to six. I followed them in.

Not really my kind of place, but it’ll do for now. It’ll do.

The music pounded in my chest like I was having a panic attack. I liked it. I stepped up to the bar and leaned forward to find the bartender.

He was at the other end, pouring drinks for the group that led me in here in the first place. That’s fair; I don’t mind waiting my turn. He met my eyes and nodded once, acknowledging me. I pulled up a stool and sat down, lacing my fingers together and resting my arms on the bar.

The door opened behind me and a cheer went up. I turned to see who was the cause of a ll the ruckus, but I didn’t notice anything special about her.

She was with the people I’d followed in. I overheard her name: “it’s good to see you, Bernice.”

I’ve never liked the name Bernice. It reminds me of the Berenstain Bears, and The Spooky Old Tree gave me nightmares as a child. Funny the things that come back to you when you get older, isn’t it?

The bartender made it down to me, not waiting on Bernice. I ordered a Crown and Coke, and he poured it and set it in front of me. I slid a twenty across the bar and asked him to keep ’em coming. He nodded again. I don’t know if he even speaks. Isn’t that a requirement for tending bar?

My head was starting to feel fuzzier, and I hadn’t even taken a sip. I reached down to feel my pocket to make sure it was still there, and traced the outline of the handy blade I liked to keep with me.

I don’t think Bernice is going to make it home tonight.



I’ve found the secret to staying on track with my time is to write my OLWG posts right before dinner, so I have to pick up and put away when my time is up. Fifteen minutes tonight.

7 Comments on “Keeping Secrets from Myself”

  1. tnkerr says:

    First of all – this is a great story with a twist I didn’t see coming.
    Second of all – the fact that you did it in 15 is incredible. Did you do any editing? Glad you figured out a way to do this. I set a timer but that’s just me.
    Third of all – I own that knife, I carry it every day but mine says “Craftsman” on the clip. Spooky!
    Thanks April!

    • April says:

      Thank you! A couple spelling errors and I took one “there” out. 😉

      I can’t set a timer because I’ll get distracted and be all over the place, looking at websites, folding laundry, whatever.

      Be careful with your handy blade!

  2. Very well written! You had me from the very beginning (it worried the hell out of me because I thought it was true!), and I definitely did not expect that ending.

  3. Tammi Kale says:

    You are a master at unexpected endings!

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