58 - Truth

It all started on the last Friday night in May. I had just been stood up by a date and felt I really needed a drink. So there I was, sitting in a bar and playing with the alcohol in the middle of the night. It was late, later than I had been out ever before.

No one would care though. I lived alone in an apartment. Alone. With a few part-time jobs.

Like I said, the only ones who would care would be my employers. Then again, even if I upped and disappeared, my employers wouldn't care.

I was lonely.

So on that Friday night in May, it came to a surprise when this man came into the bar and sat next to me. I jumped and tensed. Well, it was a man who just sat next to a woman in a bar. Why wouldn't I be tensed?

Instead, he ordered a couple of drinks and half an hour later, he was drunk. Dead drunk. I mean, seriously drunk.

There, I sat, trying to scoot my stool away from this drunk man. It really was becoming nerve-wracking.

"Cathy..."

I froze, how on earth did he know my name? It wasn't like he walked in and knew me right away. I couldn't even recall telling him my name. And I was sure I was not drunk.

I peered at him, studying his facial expression closer. His heavy lashes covered his eyes - he looked my age - maybe older. A thick mass of brown hair covered his head, its soft tufts flew up to defy gravity. He grumbled. I jumped, startled.

"Cathy... 'M sorry..."

I stared - I couldn't help it. Perhaps he was just talking about another woman named Cathy and I was just a coincidence. That's right, I thought, digging through my purse for my cash. I should just leave.

His murmurs grew louder. "I ne'er should 'ave left you..."

But just as I was about to get up, his arm came out and took a hold of my sleeve. Startled, I let out a muffled scream.

The bartender gave me an inquiring glance. I ignored him. Instead, I reached over to the drunk man and tugged his arm away from my sleeve. He grunted.

"All my fault... 'ow could I..."

His muttering decreased.

It was then that I realized he was asleep.

I let out a sigh and slowly pry his fingers off my sleeve. Once that task was accomplished, I reached for my coat and slipped it on. It would do no good to me if I came to work with a cold - warm as it is outside.

I left the bar but that was only the first time in which I would see the drunk man.

The second time I saw him was the next week. Same night. I had nothing to do so why not go to a bar. It was my old routine, a habit, albeit, a bad one.

I walked into the fumes and the dimly lit lights of the bar and spotted him at once. The drunk man from last week.

This time, however, he was not drunk. Instead, he seemed to just be taking slow sips of the same alcoholic drinks from last week. Just the same.

I moved away, sat far from his place. He seemed to be looking for someone...

But an hour later, he seemed to spot me. The next thing I knew, he was right next to me once more.

I ignored him, what would he want with me?

"Cathy."

Startled, I turned to him. "How do you know my name?" I asked. He stared at me, curious.

"Don't you know?"

"Know what?" I asked. I turn to look away. His eyes were piercing. It was as if he knew me.

I don't know him though.

"Me. Your friends. Your school. Your life," he sounded disbelieving. As if he couldn't believe this was happening and he was arguing with me.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

I felt him staring at me.

"Your brother."

My head spun sharply to look at him. "I have no brother." Cold, my voice became cold.

"You do. I'm your brother," he pleaded. I ignored him and stood up.

"I have no brother. I have no family. I have no school life. You know why? Because I can't remember it!" I left him.

The one connection to my memories.

Maybe I didn't want to remember.

But this was only the second meeting.

The next Friday, I dreaded going to the bar. That Friday, I decided against going and went to see a movie nearby. Chances were slim that I would meet the drunk man again.

The drunk man. That was what I had begun calling him in my head. Not my brother. The drunk man. My brother didn't exist. At least, not anymore.

Lady luck didn't seem to be on my side. While on my way to the movies, I ran into him again - the drunk man.

"Cathy!"

I turn around and head for home.

"Cathy, wait," he called. I felt his strong grip on my shoulder. I shudder, trying to shake his grip off.

"Get away from me," I gritted my teeth.

His grip slacked. "Please Cathy..."

"Katherine... That's what I'm called, my name." I turned to look at him. He stared back, confused.

"Catherine... I'll remember that..." he let go of his grip.

That was the third time we bumped into each other.

TBC