Was it suppose to feel like this? Being drunk? This awful pain in his stomach followed by the feeling of having ones' head beat upon with a sledge-hammer. The awful smell that his own mouth fed to his nose was nauseating, horrible, constantly making him feel the need to gag. He had felt this for the last six or seven months, not stopping for any reason. The awful stuff slipped down his throat in place of every breath he didn't need to live. With every drink the red-stained pavement would fade from his mind, the small clomps of flesh would be washed from the stairs, and the soft cries that cut his mind's ears would be consoled.
How long had it been since that night? He couldn't bring himself to think that hard. The liquor making its way from his stomach to his brain, he felt his knees arch under the weight of his body, and his shoulders take an interesting dip from their usual straight, and at-attention posture. The days and weeks had all melted into one-another, weeks turned into days, days turned into minutes, time turned into no time. Not allot of since that made unless one had been in the situation, but Keith could feel himself being torn away with every passing moment, one more second towards the fate he had pushed on someone else before they deserved it.
His head turned towards the employee's entrance. He felt the sole of his boot grind against the sidewalk as he spun on it to face the door, but he wouldn't do anything more than chuck the empty bottle into the dumpster and walk out the gate he had entered. It was suppose to be locked, but with a bunch of zit-faced teenagers running the place, this was the best anyone could expect towards maintenance.
A few staggered steps towards the entrance' general location and Keith would shake his head of the wooziness and step through. He usually composed himself well, but he may have had a bit too much of that bottle, he really didn't understand his own limits yet, if he admitted he had them at all. The inside of the restaurant was a bit cool for Keith's liking, even though he was scorching from standing in the sun, he didn't like the air to be too cool. He felt the hair on his neck stand up like it would if he had just stepped from a steamy shower into the brisk hallway. There wasn't much room to sit, it being saturday meant that the schools would be closed and the students out and about. Keith scanned the room, he noticed Mark, a real shady guy, he had a semi-high profile at school, but Keith didn't know enough about the guy to engage him in conversation, besides, he was already talking to Josie, one of a few, if the only, sets of twins in the whole town. Keith hadn't known her or her brother, but he had had brief talks with them when he met them in town, at the park, or in this very restaurant.
Nick saw an empty table, he bounced off his heel and over to the table to throw his camouflage trucker on it, saving it from anyone who might take it while he ordered his food. Taking a semi-staggered step backwards, Keith spun around and stepped around behind Mark and Josie, taking his place in line. He arrived just in time to hear not only Mark's question, but Josie's response.
"Eh, I'm okay. Confident? Not too sure about that...Maybe indifferent..."
Keith realized that he was thinking out-loud, how embarrassing. Too bad his eyes were too red for him to see the people staring at him, apparently he had spoken louder than normal. Tilting his head back and putting his arms up behind it, he sighed and stared at the menu.
The spicy chicken sandwich....fuck, this wasn't Wendy's