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You know those nights, right? The wild ones. Raucous. Chaotic. Intoxicating. Or intoxicated, at least. For the life of me I don’t know how I got here. My mind is foggy. My head is pounding. It feels like my brain is literally trying to escape from my skull by beating its nonexistent fists against my temples, against my eyes. Screaming to be let out. At first my vision was blurry, lights and shapes swimming in and out of focus. In and out. Up and down. All around. Swirling about me like a nauseating, whirlwind carousel of sensory hell. It’s starting to come in to focus now, but the lights in this room are making my eyes sing with pain. It’s making the headache much worse. I don’t think I’ve ever been this hung over. My mouth. Jesus. It’s not just cotton mouth. This isn’t like cotton balls between my teeth. It’s a whole field of cotton. Rows and rows of it, springing to existence inside my lips, blooming and growing wild. Out of control. My tongue is shrieking for water. It feels as though it will shrivel up and turn to dust inside my mouth. It feels as though I’ve never had water in my entire life. And it’s not just the desert dryness, the taste! Oh god, the taste. It’s unbearable. Imagine if somebody if somebody took a whole bottle of cheap ass vodka, glass and all, a pack of cigarettes, whatever mess you scrape off of the bottom of your shoes, and a full, filthy ass diaper. Take all those things and put them in blender. Turn it on high and make a smoothie out of that rancid shit. Then drink it. That’s what it tastes like. Fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck fuck fuck. What is this shit?!? What is this metal thing on my wrist?!? Oh shit balls, there’s a chain… A fucking chain! Am I chained to a wall?!? Oh god no. No no no no no no… There’s a manacle encapsulating my left wrist. I’m in literal chains! Oh god…shit, don’t cry. Don’t cry. You’re fine. Ah, FUCK! What the holy hell is this?!? Where am I? What is this place?!? I’m in deep, deep shit this time. Why is this happening? Why am I even here? Think. Think think think, you stupid bastard! Oh hell. Just breathe. Focus. What happened last night? Go back. Go back. Ok, well, I know I was at Barry’s last night. Barry’s is what you would call a dive. Yeah, a dumpster dive. A classic little shithole of a bar. Downtown, smack dab in the middle of the seediest part of my city. I go there because it’s close. Close to work. Close to home. That’s why I go there. So I don’t have to drive drunk. Not that I could anymore. I lost my license not too long ago because of that fucking DUI. About a month ago. So I couldn’t drive any more. Even if I wanted to. That was a bad fucking night. But this is worse. So much worse. Oh my god. Help! Fucking help! Somebody fucking help me, oh god, oh Jesus Christ, help!!! Oh fuck me. Fuck me fuck me fuck me. Oh god no. This isn’t right. What am I doing here?!? The lights. Ah, man, my fucking eyes! Ok, the lights are fluorescent. Bright. Blinking like somebody having a god damn seizure. Shitty. But bright. And the walls…oh my fucking god! Is that…blood? That’s fucking blood! Ok, fuck. So I’m crying. That’s ok. That’s ok. You’re chained to a fucking wall that’s covered in blood. Anybody would cry over that. Right. Right. Ooooooook…deep breath. The chain is bolted into the wall. I’m not going to be able to pull it out and there’s no way I can get it off of my wrist. There’s a ratty twin size mattress on the floor. And, oh wow, ha ha ha ha… That’s just great. I’m betting those stains are blood too. What the hell is going on in this place? What was that noise? Shit. There’s a door over there. Heavy, metal, no windows. Rusted to shit like it’s seen better days but still impenetrable. Oh my god. It’s opening! Hey, help me! Over fucking here! Wait… A man just entered the room. Tall, lanky. A spindly ass string bean of a guy. And he’s wearing a black balaclava. Great. Classic. The only part of his face I can see are his eyes. Shining and glinting in the fluorescent light like two nasty blue gems set deep in his covered face. He’s not going to let me out of here. He’s the one who put me here. And he’s coming closer! Look, man! I shout. You’ve got the wrong guy I promise you! Ok. Ok. Maybe you don’t. What did I do to you? Did I fuck your girl? Oh wait… oh no. Man… did I… did I fucking run somebody over?!? A hit and run? Did I kill your girl? Your kid? Hey, hey, hey. Hey, man. We can talk about this ok? I’ve got money! I can pay you! Please just let me out of here! Fucking please! He’s…he’s laughing. He’s fucking laughing at me! Ok, bro. You got me. Ok. I don’t have any fucking money! I’m sorry, alright! I don’t have any money. I can’t pay you. But I’m sorry! I’m really fucking sorry! I’m so fucking sorry. Just please, please let me go. He’s still coming closer. He’s so close I could reach out and touch him if I wasn’t chained to this fucking wall! Oh shit this is bad. I slump down the wall, sliding my ass against the dark brown stains, as if sliding my ass against old, dried shit. Crumpling on top of the no doubt bug-infested, blood stained, pinnacle of DNA evidence that is the twin sized mattress. He’s still fucking laughing at me. It’s starting to piss me off. He’s shaking and shaking and shaking with delight and mirth. So hard that his skeletal frame just might shake itself to pieces right here and now. He lifts up a single, slender finger and wipes away tears from his eyes. Oh, that’s rich! He says. A big inhale inflates his rib cage and he lets out an entertained, satisfied sigh. He’s crouching down now on the balls of his feet, arms resting on his knees as he brings himself to my level. He thinks I’m funny. He just said so. He also says he doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know me? What the fuck? Then why the hell am I even here? I ask him. Oh, he says, I just like killing people. I’m not getting the fuck out of here…