Chapter One
Rain beat against the windows. It pounded and thrashed, but despite its obvious power, it left no damage, no image apart from the recoiling, dripping water.
It was loud, though barely audible over the voice surrounding me. Their voices, I could see, where far more invasive. They booming words would not leave me alone, no matter what.
I slammed my drink on the bar, its liquid swimming about. Luckily, though, it was half empty.
But I didn't care to finish it, even though it had left a nice dent in my worn purse. I glanced at my watch. It was only three o'clock. Sure, even I had better things to be doing than to drown my sorrows so early.
Maybe I could find some lonesome tree to sit under, and while the world away. True, it would not be much better than here. But still, I would be sober and I would remember it. And that was the most important thing to me – my memories. They made up who I was. And, I was sure as hell, I was never going to forget that. No way. I had suffered too much for that.
Absentmindedly, I picked up my glass, intent upon draining it, a solemn and singular applause for my revelation.
But just as the cup met my lips, I slammed it down again. This time, luck was not on my side, and its tempting liquid spilled onto the bar.
"Do ya mind?" the bartender said, reaching for a filthy cloth.
"No," I replied, more or less ignoring the man.
"Hah. Nah, I suppose ya wouldn't, not folk like you." I glanced up, just in time to see the bartender spit into his cloth, glaring at me the whole time.
I rolled my eyes. Really and truly, I did not need this filth. I did not need this man, condescending everything I said and did.
With that, a newfound kind of energy, I got up, and pushed myself away from the bar. I turned on my heel, and burst out of the saloon. It was good to be out of that smoky, gloomy air, even if it was to end up in the rain.
But I did not care. I would take rain, as pounding and wet as it was, over that saloon any day. It really was about time that I stopped wasting my time there, anyhow.
I walked down the road, with my chin up, me head held slightly higher than I used to. I had not walked several steps before I realised that it was killing my neck, but seriously, who cares? I certainly didn't. It made me feel powerful. It made me feel successful. It made me feel happy. And really, at the end of the day, wasn't that the most important thing of all?