A Sure Thing

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I became a villain that night.  The night I yelled at her for the first time.  That's the thing I hate about it the most, the first time, more than once.  I don't think I've hated myself more than now.  I raised my voice and was immediately sorry.  The look on her face tore me to shreds.  I don't even remember what we were arguing about that time.  I'm just glad I never raised my hand to her.

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I hate drinking.  So does she.  But then I never really did any drinking.  So I can't blame my anger on that.  I can't even blame it on her.  It's not like I could get drunk anyway.  I wish I was lying.  I wish I was bragging.  Well, I guess tonight will finally be the lie to that truth.  Another bottle empty, I can't remember finishing this one.  How many more bottles before I start forgetting the memories?  There were good times.  We laughed, I remember that too.  But as soon as I start on those memories, the ugly ones rear their heads.

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I became a villain that night.  That keeps running through my head.  I'm not supposed to be that guy.  I despise men like that.  Always thinking that they are better than everyone else, full of themselves.  I was supposed to be the hero.  The good boyfriend.  The one who saved her from having to deal with those kinds of men ever again.  Instead I make the number one spot on the world's worst boyfriends list.  I never, Never thought I was better than her.  I loved her.  Another empty one?  No that was the last one.  Here's the new one, already half gone.

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The worst thing is that I was never angry because of being some controlling chauvinistic pig.  I was angry because I was hurt.  That is no excuse.  Acting like a child is definitely no excuse.  But that's what it was.  I was a giant child throwing even bigger tantrums.  And the collateral was her.  Her tears, Her scared face, Her inability to speak because of fear that I would get mad at anything she would say.  What the hell was I thinking?  Why couldn't I get over my self-indulgence pity parties?  Why couldn't I make my self talk to her?  Why couldn't I have been better?....That was the last bottle.

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To be a villain, you have to regress.  You get worse as you go along.  The things you do become viler.  It's the hero's job to stop it before it affects more people.  To stop it before the world is torn asunder...I always wanted to be a hero.  Never a villain.  It's funny though.  Heroes are not supposed to gamble.  But then again, I only bet on a sure thing.  I'm sorry love.  I never meant for it to go like that.  it was never because I wanted to control you.  I was hurt and acted like a child.  I'm sorry I never talked to you.  I'm sorry I became a villain.  I can promise you one thing.  I won't let it happen to another woman....Remember...squeeze...don't pull....

The Silent Man

There was a calm about him as he walked down the street.  It encircled him the way a mother's arm embraced a beloved child.  Comforting and protecting.  It radiated from his very core.  The grace of his step, which seemed to float him over the surface as fluid as a country river.  The way he held himself, sure and welcoming at the same time.  But most of all were the eyes.  Storm grey and as deep as the Delphi.  Intellect showing through that seemed to be just as vast.  To stare into those eyes would be your unmaking.  

But despite his powerful aura, he traveled through the crowds of the town unnoticed.  The only sign of his passing was a wake of people who strangely felt, suddenly, as if they had just left the embrace of  their one person they could not live without.

Slowly he made his way to the local diner, entered, and sat at a table that was off to the side.  The rest of the patrons gave him no more than a passing glance.  The waitress took his order and left him to his lunch.  Other customers came and went.  When he finished, he paid and left.  Heading North-West he left the town behind him.

Adam had seen the man when he entered the town.  There was something about him that struck Adam as odd, yet he couldn't place it.  He decided to follow the man to try to see if he could figure out what it was that had caught his attention.  As he made his way after the man, the feeling that something was off continued to grow.  At first he didn't catch it, but when they made it into the deeper parts of town, it clicked.  No one seemed to register that the strange man was passing them.

This baffled Adam.  How could everyone not notice this man who stood out so plainly.  But this was only the first odd thing about the man.  There was more, otherwise Adam, after figuring out what was weird, would have returned to his games.  So he continued to follow the man, straight to the diner.  Adam waited a few minutes before entering and sitting at the counter, ordered a glass of milk.

He looked around and again saw that everyone seemed to not realize that the man was there. But as Adam continued to watch everyone, he was startled by what he saw next.  Lucy, the bitter woman of seventy years, who always sat alone and never talked to anyone except to berate them for existing, suddenly smiled a toothy grin, and started to talk lively to the newly wed couple one table over.  Roel, who had lost his legs in an accident recently, started making jokes about his own demise.  And young Ben, who was mad at the waitress for dumping him, got up, walked to the sheriff who was drinking his coffee, and placed the revolver he had hidden in his jacket on the table and quietly left.

Adam knew that the man was the cause for this.  He didn't know how, but he felt that these events were connected to him.  But there was still something not right.  As he turned back to the man to get another look at him he stopped moving.  He watched as the man paid.  The man pushed back his chair and left.  And finally Adam knew what it was.  The man produced no sound in anything that he did.  The clothes he wore never rustled.  The chair he had just seen him scrape across the floor never squeaked a protest against the ceramic tile.  The bell on the door never chimed its greeting or salutation.

Adam jumped off the stool and dashed for the door.  Yanking it open he heard some people grumble at his hastiness but he was already gone before the first words were out.  Quickly he scanned the streets to see where the man went.  Adam caught sight of the strange man's pack turn the corner and he raced after it.  It continued this way to the edge of the town.  The man always just ahead of Adam.  And Adam trying to get that much closer.  When Adam made it to the town's end, he saw the silent man already quite a ways off.  Without a second thought and only a slight pause, Adam stepped past the border of his home and began to follow the man.  He watched as the man stepped off the path and headed for an entrance into the small woods that ran parallel to the road, crossing into the shadows of the trees.  Adam never quickened his step at this but continued at a steady pace.

When Adam made it to the entrance of the woods, he stepped through and tripped.  Picking himself up, he looked down to find the offending object, only to find the pack that the silent man had been carrying.  Feeling someone staring, Adam looked up from the pack to see the man a few feet in front of him looking at him.  There was a question there in his eyes Adam could see.  There was no other movement, just the question and calm patience.  Adam knew that if he needed to, the silent man would wait through eternity for his answer.  He also knew that there was no need to wait that long.  Adam nodded once, picked up the silent man's pack, shouldered it, and waited.  The silent man returned the nod, turned and continued walking.  Behind him, a boy followed.