With No Right

"You’re guilty, and here you are, in all your sadness, looking for light, right? Maybe you feel you don’t have the right, and maybe you don’t. You’re still alive, and I can tell you now tying one hand behind your back and beating yourself up doesn’t help. Life is too short to spend it regretting."

The bar was unusually empty, the simple wood pattern design was easier to see than I’d ever expected. The few who were there were quiet, and just as still as Sam and I. I looked to the bar tender as he smiled warmly at me, trying to do the same. He was so young…I was skeptical that he was over 18, if he was even that. Sam nudged me gently to get my attention, but my eyes would only dart to the door frequently as she spoke-I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to be in a public place like this, where victims loved ones could recognize me. What if they didn’t react with pure anger? What if they asked the same question Carrie did with their eyes? How the hell can I answer a question like that? Sam’s words kept echoing through my mind as I turned to her as she spoke, deaf to her words during that moment.

She only smiled at me, she only smiled as I apologized when she finished. I didn’t like the feel…my attention was alert, but my senses were diluted. I wished I had her serene calm…

"Jen, do you remember our first time here?"

"Yeah…"

"We were 15, but we got in since my brother was the manager then. I know when I first saw this place, I thought it was such a dump. I thought everyone here was trash…I still do. But, I met Jeff here…he got in that fight with Mortig, remember? Mortig had wrestled him down so easy, Jeff was so pissed…Mortig thought it was only fun."

Mortig and Jeff were half brothers. They were always fighting for some reason or another…I always thought it was so cute. Mortig would never hurt his little brother, but he was such an a*****e, always teasing him for whatever reasons.

"Yeah, I remember." I laughed for a moment to myself, "We were trying to break it up, and Mortig ended up falling on me. I thought I was gonna die!"

Mortig was a big b*****d, I ended up dislocating my shoulder before it was all done with. He wouldn’t stop apologizing, but I never blamed him once. I was the one that kept pulling, after all. My thoughts shifted, and I saw my dream again…Mortig was there, I was sure of it. I cleared my throat, and spoke to Sam once more.

"Sam…if Mortig were alive now, do you think he’d call me a murderer?"

The smile on her face faded, and she looked down at her drink, obscuring her expression to me. She was thinking about it, and after a few moments passed, she finished her drink, and spoke as the glass clanged light upon the wooden bar we sat at. I anticipated every word like a child for a Christmas present.

"Mortig couldn’t call you a murder, not the woman he loved. And what the hell’s up with all the gloom? Aren’t we trying to enjoy our night, d****t?"

She looked back up at me, her eyes betraying her once more. She could smile as happily as the best of them, but I know in her eyes I could see I touched an open wound. They’d grown clouded, and she was blinking faster to stop a tear from falling. I pulled a smile with the corners of my jaw, as I turned to the bartender and sat my glass upon the bar.

"Sam, thank you for being such a good friend…I don’t know what I’d do without you."

"Be in the army, instead of the police force, duh." She joked

"Not me, never." I swallowed the desire to say, ‘I would’ve been better off’ to her.

As I opened my room door, I froze, gazing upon Carrie as she sat down a photograph of Mortig and I. She looked up at me, her soft face filled with sadness, the air thick with gloom, rather than horror.

"So…you know how it feels to lose…but you took everything from me anyway…"

There was nobody there…I felt like I was going insane. Maybe I was drunk…but since when has intoxication caused hallucination? She was dead, not in my house, but I felt her still there, just the same.

"You don’t have the right to be sad…"

I felt her eyes baring down upon me from right beside me, I could feel her breath sharply on my neck as she spoke, feel her nose touching my cheek, and her hair prickling along my shoulder. All I could do is utter a startled cry, as I snatched away, snatched away from nothing. Was this really all in my head?