"The Truth Teller"

JUNE 13th, 2011

I was awakened by one of Keith "pets". I guess they were trying to say "good morning" but it translated to a very high pitch beep sound. I looked around the room only to see darkness. I checked the clock on the end table. 8:30 AM: Must be a cloudy day. I left the room and went to the kitchen, seeing Keith sitting at the counter, looking out the window.

"Morning," I said groggily.

"Morning," Keith responded.

"Cloudy day…" I sat next to him at the counter.

"No, just another storm."

"This early?"

"Down here, it storms a lot. Sometimes we even get tornado warnings."

"Are they bad?"

"No, sometime they don't even get near here."

Thunder rumbled the house and lightning hit the ground outside.

I jumped, "Jeez…"

"I'm used to it," Keith laughed. "So, what brings you here all of a sudden?"

"What do you mean?"

"Last year you came over was in July last year, so I guessed that's when Benson let you guys go on vacation. Why June now?"

"Just some personal problems."

"Like what?"

"…I rather not talk about it." I looked away slightly.

"I see…" Keith whispered, dropping the subject. "Well in that case, do you just want to chat over some drinks?"

"Sure, what do you got?"

"A whole assortment: Scotch, wine, beer, you name it."

Forgot to mention; Keith has a love for alcohol yet someone he doesn't lumber around like an alcoholic. Go figure.

"Just get me something relaxing."

"You got it."

Keith got up and went to the garage, where all of his drinks are. He came back a few minutes later with two separate bottles. One bigger than the other. He poured me a glass from the smaller one and her poured his glass from the bigger one.

"Cheers," Keith said as he brought his glass up.

"Cheers."

We put our glasses together and took a sip of our drinks.

My drink seemed to have a subtle creamy taste to it, while also being a bit bitter: Pretty good actually.

"Phew…" I shook my head after taking the sip.

"Lightweight, are we? Keith joked.

"I don't know but…this drink has something to it…phew…" I took another sip.

"Slow down if it's getting to you."

"No I'm good." I took another sip. "You know…that Margaret…that Margaret is a real bitch," I slurred.

"What?" Keith asked, very shocked."

The thunder rumbled.

"Well she is…She has this boyfriend who raped her and she's doesn't seemed to mind it know…but when I said something about it…she went off on me."

"Mordecai…"

"Now she says I'm the bad guy for talking bad about the guy who raped her…How fucking crazy is that!" I laughed, my words still slurred. My head was starting to pound, but I kept talking, not being able to control what was being said.

Thunder continued to rumbled.

"And then there's this girl named Rhonda who was talking about how much she wanted to get with me or some shit and I haven't heard from her in two weeks." I laughed wildly. "High Five Ghost is dead, Margaret hates me, and Rhonda has forgotten about me. Life SUCKS!"

Everything went black.

My sight was blurry as my eyes opened. I was in bed and I heard the bug's beeping get closer because a few of them were flying a glass of water to me. I thanked them and took a sip. My head was pounding and I felt dizzy.

What the hell happened?

"You okay?" I heard Keith asked. His voiced sounded very loud even though it probably wasn't. He sat next to me on the bed.

"No..." I groaned. "What happened?"

"Something that was my fault."

"What do you mean?"

"I wasn't paying attention and accidentally gave you a drink that some people down here call 'The Truth Teller'"

"'The Truth Teller'? Aren't all drinks 'The Truth Teller' in some sense?"

"Not like this one. With some drink, you can actually have some kind of power with what you're saying when you get drunk. With this one, you have no control. It spills out and in very ugly ways. Ways that completely betray your personality."

"Did I sound bad?"

"Very crude, mean, and almost scary. You even mentioned High Fives dying like it was nothing."

"What?! I did that? Oh no…" I covered my face. "I would have never told you something like that in that condition."

I feel like such a jerk right now.

"Again, it's not your fault," Keith said. "I'm sure you would have told me all of those things in a more civilized way if you were sober. When you were out, I called Benson to see if he could clarify what you said. Man…"

"I know, it's crazy."

"I can see why you didn't want to talk about it. Can I ask one thing?"

"Sure."

"Why do you think Margaret is mad at you?"

"…I honestly don't know anymore."

"I've known a few girls who have been raped. They tend to act negatively to guys who treat them well, like you, since they think it's only to take advantage of them."

"That's a stretch."

"Well yeah, it is, but what I'm trying to say is: There must be some kind of psychological reason why she is that way she is right. It's in no way your fault."

"Yeah…"

"And this Rhonda girl?"

"Still haven't heard from her."

"Two weeks? Keith asked.

"Two weeks," I responded.

"Give her one more week."

"Really?"

"Look, I know it looks bleak, but just try another week. I've been in this same situation and patience is the best thing you could do."

"And if she doesn't answer?"

"Then don't stress over it. You two aren't even dating. If you were, the situation would be ten times worse."

"I can imagine…"

"Just find another girl."

"I really just want to stop talking about this. This is my vacation, I just need to push this away somewhere," I said sort of defensively.

"Fine, I understand." Keith got up. "But if you keep this all bottled in, you're going to lose yourself."

"I'll be fine."

"I hope so." Keith left the room and closed the door. The bugs left with him as well.

I was about to lay back down on the bed, I noticed the room was light again. 12 PM.

The storm must've stopped.