Welcome back Cyberspace.
Today, as you know, is story day. I've been trying to write in different styles a little bit recently, and today I'm going to try something new to me. I'm going to try to write a story based mostly on dialogue with as little description as possible. I'm not sure how it will turn out, but here goes nothin'!
The Conversation
"You are a disgrace." He glared at me.
"Why? What have I done?"
"Think about it." His eyes focused on mine.
"Why don't you jog my memory?"
"I can't do that...only you can. It's not my fault that you can't live with what you've done." His face twitched. His eyes narrowed.
"...I don't want to remember."
"Do you think I do? I don't have a choice." He bared his teeth.
"But you're not the one that has to bear this cross...you aren't the one trapped in this prison of guilt."
"I'm at least partially responsible...I could have stopped you." He bit his lip. A small trickle of blood ran down his chin.
"I suppose you're right. But you didn't know what was going to happen."
He wiped his chin. "But I knew better. So did you."
"I suppose we did. But it could have happened anytime. It could have happened if I was perfectly sober."
"It could have." He laughed. "That excuse sounds just like you...deflect the responsibility. It wasn't your fault...it was just the alcohol."
"Well it's the truth."
"It's the truth that you hide behind. It's the truth that lets you go to sleep at night. Your truth is a lie." He smiled.
"No it's not! It is NOT my fault. The same thing could have happened to anyone..."
"Anyone stupid enough to get behind the wheel when they can hardly even walk. You know you shouldn't have been driving. You know that family is suffering because of your stupidity. You know that that little boy would still be alive if you would have just picked up the phone and called a cab. You know it was wrong to drive off after you hit him - but you still did it. You know it as well as I do - you're a murderer." He pointed at me.
"NO!"
"What if that was you. How would you feel if some drunken asshole ran your son down in the middle of the day? Murderer."
"It's not my fault...it's not my fault..."
"Keep telling yourself that. See how long you can live with the lie."
"...it's not a lie..."
"Shut up! Take responsibility! You killed him! You killed him and drove off! Murderer! Murderer!" His words were a violent scream.
"NO!" I reached out and swatted at his face. The shards of glass from the mirror cut my hands. They fell into the sink. Now instead of one of him, there were fifty of his face looking back at me. All of the versions of my own face screamed at me - "Murderer!"
I picked up one of the pieces of glass. "Murderer!" came the cry from my hand. I couldn't look at myself any longer...I brought the jagged edge to the vein on my wrist...I cut...I slashed...I bled.
"This is your punishment." His grinning face was the last thing I saw as I faded into the darkness...
Peace and Love
The Critical Stranger
As always thoughts, comments and suggestion are encouraged and appreciated!
Dark man...
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