Throughout my life, people had called me many names. Alcoholic-sure. Religious gambler-once, by a pastor that reeked of communion wine and bad faith. A womanizer-that one might have been self proclaimed. A cheapskate? I'd argue the point but wasn't worth the breath. But do you know the one that really stung?
A deadbeat.
For some reason as I lay in this alley, that word circles my mind over and over. I reached for the bottle as I thought about it. Why does it stick? Why do words from people I barely know mean nothing but that wor...
cough cough
"Damn, that's strong..."
Right, where was I? Ah, the influence of the word and its variations: deadbeat. I looked past the alley mouth at the pedestrians crossing the far road. Suits. Ties. Purpose. Do they have it so figured out that they have the balls to label me? Does having money make them superior? Society gives them power because of what? The thread count of their designer suits? How much money they earn? Earn from who?
I pushed myself up, and for a second I seriously considered walking out to the sidewalk and taking a massive dump right in the middle of sidewalk. Just to shatter that illusion of order they hold so dear. But the thought of their disgusted, better than you glares sits me right back down.
I sighed. Am I really any better than them for caring so much?
I looked up to the sky in search of anything that resembled an answer.
The sky stared back. Literally.
It might have been the booze-probably was the booze- but some primal part of me felt it. The atmosphere wasn't just air and clouds; I felt the sky stare back. Uncomfortable with the feeling, I tore my eyes away from the ethereal and returned to the comfort of the filthy alley. I shift my body to the side to gaze upon the true love of my life:
Astra Vodka.
She'd never lie to me. She'd never poke at my insecurities like the others did. She'd never impose her society-fueled judgement and opinion on me. She pushes me forward when the world holds me back. She might taste like garbage but she's my garb-
"Old man. Hand me the bottle."
I looked up from my musing, gazing at the idiot who dared to interrupt my romance. His voice matched his face-hard ,ugly, and looking for trouble. A hard look for a hard voice. His wore one of those bomber jackets that cost more than my liver, but his knuckles were bruised. A Rich kid looking for a punching bag to vent his daddy issues on.
"Huh." I stared dumbly at him.
"You heard me, give me the bottle." He doubled down and the sounds of his jacket zipper opened for the main attraction. He flashes a handle to what looked to be a knife.
I scrutinized the handle then looked back at Astra. Poor Astra. Wanted by everyone, consumed by everyone but never appreciated. Even the potatoes used in her production were probably neglected orphans on the farm. The clear liquor swayed inside the glass, trembling in agreement.
If I handed her over, wouldn't I be just like the rest of them? Doing whatever it takes to stay alive? and for what? To climb an imaginary ladder then proceed to die of old age, thinking I'm better than everyone else?
I nodded at her, then stood up. My legs shaky, but my heart was steady.
"You can take my seat in the alley," I slurred. "You can take my empty wallet. You can even take my coat. But you will NEVER take her from me!"
I clutched Astra to my chest and looked at the man attempting to thieve the love of my life. He looked back at me as if I were an idiot. Little did he know who the real idiot was.
He groaned. "Listen deadbeat, I don't wanna hurt you but I've had a long day and-"
"YOU CAN'T HAVE HER!!" I yelled and charged anyway.
***
The alley used to smell like piss and rain. Of course now it smelt like piss, rain and copper.
I angled myself sideways, wincing and gazed affectionately at Astra. For reasons unbeknownst to me, the idiot left her behind with me as he walked away, shaking his head. Though, that was after he stuck a knife between my ribs.
As I tasted metal in my mouth, I smiled like an idiot. A bloody, jagged smile.
I smiled at the fact that it doesn't matter how pathetic I was, I faced myself and still defended what I thought was right. I didn't fold at the thought of confrontation and that's enough for me. If there was a way to die, this would be it.
The metal taste filled my mouth but couldn't stop me from gargling to Astra: "At least I have you..."
I rolled myself back to face the sky and looked up, the blood leaking out my side unaffected. The pain was blinding, searing through my side,but my face didn't show it. The sky's beauty melted into my fading thoughts, the stars swirling into strange, vibrating patterns of light I'd never notice before.
"How I wish I could understand." I whispered, blood bubbling over my lips.
Not just myself. Not just humanity. Not even the heavens. But how the hell did I get into this situation.
The stars looked down on me and I swear they were smirking. As my consciousness slowly died down, I whispered one last truth.
"It's definitely the booze..."