It feels so good to share

If you met him, you'd hate him. I did.

For a few brief moments I felt I was among a flock of creatures of my own kind, sheep that follow the codes of conduct set down by the creator of the group, always raising a hand to speak or commending someone for sharing secrets or clapping to show support, actions synchronized to convey a sense of society needed by every desperate individual in the room. I had arrived late and just sat down, interrupting a pretty young woman whose tears turned off like a faucet when she noticed me. Then she got back into character and resumed her sob story of childhood abuse by her parents and her peers, malicious attacks in the street and in her own home, betrayals by friends and enemies alike. And everyone around her bought it like some silly magic trick any kid with a cape and top hat could master. Who knows, maybe she was telling the truth.
    Everyone clapped when the girl paused, wiped her eyes, blew her nose. Were they encouraging her to shut up? She seemed changed as though a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Her imperfect posture was cured, her chin now held high. She flashed a smile of relief.
    “I know it is getting rather late, but we’ve just had a few new arrivals, faces I haven’t seen before, and we never turn away a visitor without first allowing him or her a chance to speak their mind without consequence,“ said a man with the vocal inflections of a drag queen. He stared right at me, either acknowledging my presence or undressing me with his eyes. “Would anyone else like to share?”
    A few hands shot up. One man shaped like a watermelon strained to raise his arm. Grunting, panting, he gave up. Within seconds he was either fast asleep or fading into death.
    “Would you like to share, friend?” said the leader of the group. I swear he licked the corner of his lips when I looked at him.
    “Me?” I said. “I, well, I don’t want to intrude. I just came to sit and get out of the rain.”
    “Oh, come on. No one finds his way in here without a good reason. Please, feel free. Tell us anything you like.”
    “Okay,” I said. “Let me see,” not knowing how to start. “My name’s Jack and I’m an alcoholic.”
    Someone laughed in the far corner of the room. Someone else scolded him.
    “I’m also a drug addict. I shoot heroin, snort coke and meth, I even cooked up some meth one time when I was bored and lonely. I steal from stores all the time, even stuff I don’t need, stuff I just throw in the trash can right outside the store. To be honest, I just smoked some crack right in the bathroom out in the hallway. I blew the smoke down into the toilet and flushed really fast so no one would notice. I guess you could say I’m a terrible person. I don’t know why. I don’t know how I got this way. I guess I’ve got no conscience. I’ve done really bad things. Really bad, bad, evil, disgusting things. Things that would make you people think twice about sitting in the same room as me without me being chained to the wall a comfortable distance away. Some of you would probably want to kill me yourselves. I couldn’t blame you for that.”
    Around the room a few people stared at me incredulously. Some were sitting on the edge of their chairs watching me as though I were the storyteller and they the innocent spellbound children. One indifferent woman dug deep for hidden treasure in her nose.
    “I don’t want to waste any more of your time so I’ll make this short and sweet. I’m here today, tonight, right now because I did something so terrible I’ll probably be locked out of Hell by Satan himself. Today, I came home from work- I work at a gas station, by the way, worst job in the world- and everything was normal. I live with my parents, unfortunately, and I have few friends. Okay, I have no friends. But that doesn’t matter anymore. When I got home I went into the kitchen, not even knowing what I was doing, I hadn’t even set down my backpack or taken off my shoes, and I just grabbed the sharpest knives I could find and I ran back to my parents room and I stabbed them both about a billion times until their bodies looked like hamburger meat. They didn’t even look like humans, just meat. And then I got changed and I left. Without any other place to go I just came here. I’d seen the meeting announcements for some time in the paper, every Friday at eight. Before I actually got up the nerve to come inside I called the police to tell them what I’d done. I told them where they could find me and everything. And that’s it. That’s all I have to say. I only wish I could say I’m sorry. Sorry that I didn’t make some juicy barbeque burgers out of my parents’ bodies.”
    When I was finally silent everyone clapped for me. The leader thanked me for sharing and told me that everything would be fine now that I’d shared my secrets and gotten them out of my system. No one looked shocked or horrified. No one ran for the door. No one had their cell phone to their ear. No one even paid me any attention. They just went on to the next person.
    Confused, relieved, I stood up and went for the door. I passed through while some guy was revealing that he was actually a superhero. He was saying it was so hard to live with powers such as his and… The doors closed behind me. On the bulletin board by the door the schedule for the next week’s meetings were posted.
    Monday- 8:00 pm Gamblers Anonymous
    Tuesday- 8:00 pm Cancer Survivor Support Group
    Wednesday- 8:00 pm Suicide Loss Support Group
    Thursday- 8:00 pm Alcoholics Anonymous
    Friday- 8:00 pm Pathological Liars Support Group
    
    Feeling much better I jogged home. Dinner was still warm on the stove. I went and thanked my thoughtful mother who was watching television in her bedroom before coming back to the kitchen to make a plate; she’d cooked my favorite meal. I sat silently, eating corned beef with mustard and cabbage, reading the newspaper and shaking my head at all the psychopaths in the headlines.

Reviews

[Jillian]

Ha, I love how Jack was relieved after he told everyone his story even though he had been making it up; as if he would actually get in trouble if the group told anybody.

The situation is such that the reader gets really involved with the character in just a few short paragraphs; did he really do that stuff? Is he making it up? Who knows!!

Anyway, excellent story! I really enjoyed it : )

[Nicole Hellene]

Friday- 8:00 pm Pathological Liar's Support Group

Okay, I'll admit, this saved it for me and I laughed.

I usually go down and really do an in-depth review of a piece, but I'm kinda tired and that's usually if I think it has potential...which I can't really judge but whose going to stop me...so basically that's if I like it. I'll be honest that the beginning was a bit of a snooze fest and your first sentence was really long. First sentences are supposed to be grabbers, spice it up and cut it short.

Another thing, the dialog. It's one big chunk of meat, literally it's about the size of a chunk of meat and it IS about chunks of meat. You need to indent that bad boy or something because from where I'm sitting, it just looks like one big monster paragraph reminding me of all the other fun things I could be doing right now besides reading it. Cut it down for one, there were a lot of sentences that could have been omitted, if it doesn't move the story forward, then it doesn't belong. Also, the dialog was written in a way unlike that which people actually talk. It didn't feel like dialog, it just felt like more writing.

The ending did save it for me and the superhero guy was funny and how you closed the door in his face, lol, and the last paragraph was something slightly prophetic. It's not my favorite story I'll admit, but its not half bad. Cut this thing up and trim some fat off it and it may have potential.

[Rachael]

i really liked this... i actually read it out loud (cos i have drunk waaay to much coffee and am zipping round the room trying to avoid an assignment- see? babbling)- anyways, i read it out loud and it flows perfectly. at first jack's voice sounds slow and its as if he despises everyone and everything- i think its the amount of detail that you use. once he starts speaking aloud its as if a corks been removed and he kind of spews out all his words, then he toddles off home and the narration switches to a normal pace... is that what you were trying to do? it works really well anyway.

the only tiny thing i could find to nit pick at was that the opening sentence is a little long. but then that could just be my own preference for a short hook :)
Great characterisation of the sleazy group leader btw.

[Rachel Eisenberg]

Har har.

That was good.

(yes, i'm boring, i know... but that's kind of all i can say at the moment)

...said a man with the vocal inflections of a drag queen.
Within seconds he was either fast asleep or fading into death.
One indifferent woman dug deep for hidden treasure in her nose.
"...I only wish I could say I'm sorry. Sorry that I didn't make some juicy barbeque burgers out of my parents' bodies."

These lines make me want to shoot myself in the face, they're so good. Like... it made me keep reading. I have the attention span of a teaspoon, probably. And these gave the piece the right amount of zing and interest and a bit of a handprint, I think...

One thing--you switch from 'him' to 'I' and it's a little distracting. I'm -guessing- that the first-person character is Jack, but if it's not, then Jack is pointless in this whole story...

I like it, mister... It's pretty funny...

((still wondering if he's a pathological liar, or just having a laugh, like in Fight Club...))

[Raef C. Boylan]

Is it deliberate, the way in which the story is narrated first by an outsider, then by Jack himself? The switch seemed strange to me, but maybe it's Jack taking himself out of his head for a few minutes...or maybe Jack isn't our narrator, just reporting his observations and perceptions to us?
Good story. I kind of wanted it to be true, but I think it makes this piece more original that it wasn't true, that he'd accidentally stumbled across a liars group and spilled out his grand lies; we find him kind of endearing at the end, maybe because of relief that his mother is still alive, or maybe because it's his lack of self-awareness, shaking his head at people who acted on their impulses.

Overall, excellent write. I enjoyed reading it a lot.

[Lost Little Girl]

This was a cute story I really liked the ending. The only thing I would change is " I was telling the truth for once in my life." That kinda of took the surprise out of the ending for me. I still love it though.

[Damon Ross Cottrell]

This is a well told tale. Very good dialogue. Nice dry humor. Good images. Loved the end.