The Story of My Life - Robert Clark (thriller books to read .TXT) 📗

“Hi my name is alcoholic and I’m a Robert.”

“Hi Robert.”

The group had obviously heard worse introductions. A couple of them chuckled. I pressed my knuckles against my temples, propping my elbows on the lectern and continued.

“Like many of you here, I have a little problem. Except booze isn’t the issue. I’m worried about what happens when I don’t have any.”

The crowd nodded their heads. Many were familiar with the feeling. Somehow I doubted it. I reached into my jacket pocket and fished out my metallic flask.

“Do you see this? It’s 45% proof; the only stuff that works.”

Some of them gasped, a few didn’t react.

“I have to drink at least a bottle of this daily or I’ll turn into a monster.”

Janet, the patron, decided to speak up as I was about to take a swig.

“Uh Robert is it?” My eyes flicked in her direction. “Maybe it would help if you talked about it rather than tempt everyone here with that vile drink.”

My left hand confiscated my precious lustrous vessel while my right pulled me forward and over the edge of the now teetering podium.

“Have it your way. I’ll share my story. Maybe then you would be so wise as to let me have my drink.”

I cleared my throat. Janet crossed her legs, interlocking her fingers over one knee. The rest of them looked just as expectant.

“Do not let my current state detract from what I’m about to tell you. Feel free though, to disregard my words based on your own reason. I do not intend to entertain you with fiction, for I was not raised a liar. I only seek a bit of solace in this violent warped world. If any of you have any objections, questions or comments please shut up and leave because I don’t have the patience for any more interruptions.”

The audience sat in mute shock. I always had a knack for setting the mood.

“Now where was I? Right. Why do I drink? To keep the monster at bay. Why is there a monster? That’s where my story begins.”

“I don’t know about any of you, but when I was a boy I dreamed of acquiring supernatural powers. I wasn’t picky about it; I would be perfectly content to glow in the dark. I just wanted something to set me apart from the rest of the world. I spent my childhood waiting for a meteor to fall out of the sky on the small chance that it could imbue within me some kind of alien power. I spent a lot of time in the kitchen sitting by the microwave because a kid at school told me it caused radiation. I was dreadfully ignorant, but I was forever hopeful.”

I looked up at the ceiling wondering where all that hope had gone.

“As my 16th 17th and 18th birthdays approached I grew ecstatic. With all superheroes that was the typical time wasn’t it? It seemed as if all heroes became gifted on a birthday, I only hoped to be as fortunate. So there I was, anxious to blow out the candles thinking that there was no better magic than that brought on by flame, wax and a forest of frosting. Each time I held a wish in my heart, hoping to wake up in the morning and discover a whole new me. No matter how long I examined myself in the mirror the next day, I couldn’t find anything special. No spider bite. No wings. Nothing.”

“Mr. Robert that’s a very touching story but we bring people here to help them through an addiction, not through disappointments. Everyone has his or her fair share of those. I’m sure everyone in this room agrees with me when I say that we have much greater troubles than-“

A loud snap cut Janet off. The members of the group went wide-eyed as my fingers tore through the solid oak wood. Lines ran down the sides of the shattered lectern, loudly snaking their way to the hard linoleum floor. I stepped through it as it collapsed to either side of me.

“Than me? Is that what you were about to say?” I hissed through gritted teeth.

“Because if you were that would mean you know my pain, but that seems highly unlikely since we’ve never met and you haven’t bothered to hear the end of my story.”

I walked off the stage and came to a stop an inch or two from her leather high heels.

“Since you claim to understand my agony so well I’ll share with you the most miniscule portion of it.”

She opened her mouth to object, but before her lips could release a sound they were sealed off by my own. Blushing, she drew back and lifted her finger as if to chastise me, but she was interrupted for the third time that day. This time not by mere words or a simple kiss, but by something far more powerful.

She screamed.

Five minutes later she was on the floor having convulsions and flopping around. Meanwhile, I was being carried away by security.

“I didn’t even get to finish my story,” I muttered.

“Tell it to the judge.”

The security guards words were reinforced with his terse shove as he forced me into the back of the squad car.

“I have. He cut me short after three words. I’m surprised that last lady let me get so far.”

He slammed the door. I leaned on it, propping my legs against the door on the far side.

“New York City Police Department and step on it please. I’m in a hurry to get this over with.”

I smiled to myself and drank the rest of my precious alcohol. It was going to be a long night, or a short one depending on how long my blood remained intoxicated. At least I would be surrounded by people like me. Special People. Murderers.

Publication Date: 08-05-2011

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
Never stop trying to be a hero