Me Myself and Id

    I clicked the lock and closed the door behind me, saw myself standing stoic, staring back.
    "Quit Drinking!" I yelled, grating my voice on the tail of the word. I grabbed myself by the shoulders and shook and glared into my helpless eyes. Their hardness melted into terrified questioning. I could see my violence taking an effect, and shook harder.
    "Quit! Just Quit!" I screamed again. I would scream it a thousand times. The face broke into this tearless sob. I smacked it till it cowered away, but then I chased myself down to the ground with a trip that made face meet with floor. I stomped on my back and cracked knuckles to my ears. My face let out a breathless scream, like a child hiding pain. I wanted to see it, though, so I picked myself up and crushed my throat with my vice grip while delivering knees to my groin. Finally I threw myself to the ground and watched myself try to stretch the pain thin by writhing on the floor.
    "Remember why this happened! Remember this: Stop drinking!" I screamed. I felt nothing except the satisfaction of dominating a hated thing. I unlocked the door, swung it open and left myself there, silent and beaten. I locked and shut that room, grabbed a blazer scarf and hat, splashed my face with cold water and went to the bar.

Author's Note

This is a weird one, but I feel like this is what it feels like to wake up and hate yourself.

Reviews

[KAOlmsted]

Been there, done that, and probably saw you at the bar ;-)

This is an interesting concept, taking the idea of beating yourself up literally...you did a pretty good job with it, too. I think I got a little distracted by your first line, though, and it kept catching on my subconscious throughout the read, like a hangnail on a sweater...You say "I clicked the lock and closed the door behind me"...wouldn't you close the door first? Meh, either way, it was a good read. Thanks so much for sharing it with us.

-kimmer

[Epipsychologist]

Thanks for the review KAO. That's a really good point. I just submitted this to my school's journal and now it'll be bothering me like a cuticle too. But thanks again, at any rate.

[KAOlmsted]

Damn...sorry about that *laugh* Maybe you've got one of those doors that locks when you push the little button in the center...you could do that before you close it, yeah?

*sigh*

No worries, the rest was pretty good, so...you're sure to get it published.
:-D

[Epipsychologist]

Actually yeah. But your comment made me realize that there wouldn't be a point in locking himself into the room unless he had a key, so I should have included that. But I liked your comment, it was constructive, thank you.

[KAOlmsted]

My pleasure.

[Baby Ricochet]

It made me think of the film "Fight Club." First rule of fight club; Never talk about fight club. Second rule of fight club; You do not talk about fight club. "Where is My Mind" by the Pixies is the last song in the film. I love the Pixies. I should mention Freud. "Freud." There ya go. I should mention alcoholism. Try to think of it as a hobby. It won't bother you so much that way. Thanks Bro

[Epipsychologist]

This is the best comment I could have asked for. Also I still blast the radio anytime "where is my mind" comes on because off that movie.

[Baby Ricochet]

The Pixies CD Doolittle is one of the greatest CD'S Ever recorded. God I love that CD.

[John]

I enjoyed this and understand why a person with a drink problem would think of himself as divided. Literally beating yourself up makes sense even if some of the actions you describe would literally be impossible to do to yourself.

A suggestin that might introduce a nice twist to the story: Why not describe two people, one beating the other, and at the end of the story reveal that it is the same person - 'I had been the only person in the bathroom'?

[Marie]

I like this piece. I wish the narrator had won, but at least he put up a good fight with himself.

[Epipsychologist]

Thanks Marie. I didn't think of it this way until after, but by giving in almost instantly after ruthlessly beating his "self" up, he inflicts the same sort of guiltless abuse as he had violently done in the room.