GrUeberfest: There's a Tear in my Beer (1023 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: Untruth
Rating: 1.79 on 36 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Snark << snarkk.at.gmail.com (View user info) at 2005-10-21 16:14:18 EDT
The bottle fell from his shaking hand and smashed on the cold wood floor.
He stared at it for a second; watched the clear alcohol spread out in a puddle around the thick shards of glass scattered around his bare feet, then tilted his head back and drained the glass of the ounce of Vodka he had managed to get into it.
The alcohol burned his cigarette-parched throat, and kept his head tilted for a time, and reveled in it, doing his best not to swallow. The burn was something at least. It was a sensation.
The clock beside the bed read 1:13 am. He stared at it and wondered if it should mean something to him. He wondered if he should be sleeping or showering or doing something to ready him for work, and it took his sleep deprived, alchohol soaked brain a moment to register that he didn't work anymore. He didn't do anything but drink and rant and wander the sparse space of his apartment.
He'd turned his life into nothing. He'd numbed his senses with booze and addled his brain with a plethora of sleep depressants and anti-psychotics, anything to keep from feeling, to keep from remembering the life he once had... from remembering her.
He ran his hand over the stubble on his chin to clear the vodka that had dribbled onto it, then made to lay back in the bed but was interrupted by a muffled beep from somewhere in the dirty brown blanket bunched up beside him. He gave the blanket an awkward nudge with one hand, it beeped again, and a moment later, he pulled the handset of his cordless phone from its tangled mass.
He couldn't remember putting it there but then he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a call. He threw it in the air and caught it a couple of times to feel its weight then reared his hand back to throw it across the room but stopped as it wailed in his hand. For a moment it sounded like it was screaming, like it knew it was about to die, but then he recognized the sound for the ring it was and brought it up to his ear despite himself.
"Dan?"
He didn't answer. He couldn't answer. He knew the voice on the other end. He knew the delicate canter of his wife despite the panic shaping it.
"Dan... please...can you..."
"No."
The word came out as a croak and he wondered when the last time he had used his throat for anything other than drinking had been, then decided it didn't matter. This was not right. It was not fair. He'd put up too many walls to let her break in so easily. He'd pushed the past too deep to let it come flooding to the surface at the behest of the traitorous electronic bastard in his hand.
"Please..."
"I can't. Don't call again."
"Dan. She's back. Oh my God she's back and she's in the basement."
Her voice became shrill at the word 'basement' and he could hear the edge of sanity in it.
"It's not her Beth. It never was. She wouldn't do this to us. Jesus, get out of that fucking house ."
"She's changed... it's changed... please... she's calling for you. She sounds so scared Dan, and there's something else. There's something with her. Oh God please help my little girl."
Her voice had gone from shrill to sobbing and he hated it for making him feel.
"I CAN'T!"
A new sound drifted to him from the phone, the pained shriek of a little girl long dead.
"Dan!"
"I'm on my way."
The tear fell solitary and pure from the end of his nose into the can of beer in his hand as he unsteadily guided the car down Palm Avenue towards the pine tree lined emptiness of Broke Street. He brought the can to his lips, took a long pull, and wondered at the saltiness of it. It felt strange to cry. It felt strange to be out of his apartment again. It felt strange to swallow the alcohol-laced tears in his mouth and he wondered why. He'd swallowed enough of them in the last couple of years. It was old hat.
'Turn around. Go home. Get drunk. Forget'
The familiar mantra whispered itself in his head and he desperately wanted to listen. He'd swore he would never visit the house again. He'd swore he would leave the memories of his daughters punctured body in the basement of his mind, much like she'd been found in the basement of the house. He'd promised himself that he would stop reliving that day and all the days of hell that followed: The hunt for his daughter's killer and the subsequent confession of Paul Dobson. The trial and the vagrant's suicide half way through. The mourning and quiet emptiness that filled their lives before the screaming of his daughter's ghost filled the house with her horror and pain, and finally, his wife's refusal to leave, and her subsequent spiral into paranoia and delusion that destroyed what remained of their marriage and sent him running to the comfort of a dark room and a tall bottle.
He had left his wife to her delusions shortly after his daughter's ghost had inexplicably stopped its nightly serenades. He'd left the dank old house and all its misery behind, but misery cannot be denied and it followed him in his dreams.
He couldn't hear any screaming from outside the house, but then, no one ever could. As mind numbingly loud as she got in the house, the sound seemed unable to penetrate its thick walls.
He stood on the porch, hand held poised to knock on the door, and then turned around to leave, but it opened behind him and a familiar albeit shaky voice sounded out.
"Don't go."
He stopped, then turned and quickly averted his eyes from the devastation of his wife's face.
Once sparkling blue eyes sat dully and deeply in pale sockets. The skin under them hung purple and loose as if getting ready to drop into the sagging sallow cheeks beneath. Previously vibrant red hair was grey and ragged, and her lips were dry and cracked.
She stood before him in an old white nightgown that clung to her boney body as if holding it together and in her left hand was a dusty glass full of clear liquid which she held out to him.
"I thought you might need this."
He took the drink and threw it back, then grimaced and washed it down with the remains of the salty beer in his hand. 'Not her fault' he told himself, after all, she couldn't have known he'd given up the 7 and gone pure vodka a long time ago.
"Another?"
"Yeah... vodka rocks."
She nodded then walked back into the house and he followed doggedly.
The interior of the house was a testament to Beth's delusions. The walls and floor were covered with a myriad of darkly colored sheets, and a patchwork of black plastic bags was nailed to the roof. Looking at it made him want to scream but he held it in, and then drowned it with another drink plucked from her bony hand.
"Jesus Beth."
She looked around the room then self consciously back to him, took his glass, and filled it again.
"I know."
"How can you live like this?"
She brought the bottle in her hand to her lips and took a sip, then brought it away and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before answering.
"You have your demons, I have mine."
He didn't answer. An answer would only lead to an argument and arguments between them tended to dig up the dead. He'd had enough of the dead to last a lifetime.
He raised the glass to his lips again then dropped it from suddenly numb fingers as a high-pitched keen filled the room. It was long and loud, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. It went on for a short forever then cut in and out like a skipping record, and he recognized it for what it was; the sound of his daughter's death cry as her body was punctured over and over again.
"Oh God."
The words barely got out of his mouth before another cry sounded out - this one hollow - as if shouted through a tin can.
"Dadeeeeeeeeeeeee..."
He turned to the door across the room. The door covered in bolts and chains. The door to the basement that he had been avoiding since he'd entered the house he'd sworn never to step foot in again.
'Turn around. Go home. Get drunk. Forget'
The mantra screamed itself within him but he walked to the door regardless and started to unlatch it. He fumbled one latch open after another with shaking hands and wondered where the strength to do so had come from, then realized it wasn't strength at all but desperation. He realized he would go down to the basement despite his fears. He'd stumble into its musty depths because he couldn't stand the look on Beth's face and because he realized that no amount of self medication was ever going to ever free him from that scream, and the hole in his heart where his daughter used to live. He'd do it because if things kept on the way they were going he'd die, and as far as he could tell, there was no peace in death.
"DADEEEEEE...."
The scream started again then died out abruptly as he slowly pulled open the heavy wooden door.
"Dan..."
Beth's voice was full of second guesses but he ignored it and started his journey down the stairs with the steadfast determination of a doomed man on his final walk.
He straightened his back and took one step after another while sweat ran down his face and the strangely appropriate words to his once favorite song echoed in his head. The one by Hank Williams. The one that he hadn't played since the day his daughter was murdered.
'There's a tear in my beer cuz I'm cryin for you dear.'
"You are on my lonely mind."
He spoke the last sentence into the darkness, half expecting the darkness to answer back, then stopped cold when it did.
Before him on the floor lay his daughter, her hazy body partially illuminated by the light from the entryway, and partially cloaked in gloom. She began her keen again then shuddered and bucked as one bleeding hole then another appeared in her frail body.
He gritted his teeth and continued his journey towards the horror unfolding before him.
"Enough." He growled. "No more. No more tears."
Behind him, the wooden door slammed shut of its own accord and the vast expanse of the basement fell into utter darkness, save the light emanating from his daughter's bloody form.
He took the last step from creaking stair to dust covered floor, opened his arms wide, and got down on one knee as the glowing ghost of his daughter suddenly sat up and looked his way with unseeing eyes.
"C'mon kiddo." He crooned "Come to Daddy."
User Reviews
Submitted by Stabkill (user info) at 2008-09-15 15:01:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2006-08-18 23:42:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by wookie (user info) at 2005-10-26 11:22:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2005-10-25 07:33:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I love this new honest reviewing trend.
Submitted by Fabit (user info) at 2005-10-25 07:27:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Cool
Submitted by AshK (user info) at 2005-10-23 20:50:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Fuck you running, my computer is IN MY BASEMENT, and here I sit looking for bloodstains. Or vodka. Or salty beer.
Happily, I don't have to walk down the pussy portal to get to my basement, that would be creepy.
And hot.
You should email me the rest of this story.
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-10-23 05:15:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Bigmike... I'm sorry. I fell into the Ubermadness thing and totally forgot.
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-10-23 05:13:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Just kinda got tired of the site and decided to move on, but this is a cool comp so I came back.
I was still writing, but most of it was dirty stories to my then girlfriend.
This is the first thing I've written in a month or so.
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-10-22 20:58:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Oh Snark, you rotten bastard...
WHY HAVE YOU LEFT US?
Submitted by badassmofo (user info) at 2005-10-22 09:50:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Fucking excellent.
I wish you did more posting here...I'll read it...I promise.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-10-22 07:26:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I admit there is a vagina-esque quality to that hallway. It's very disturbing.
I agree wholeheartedly with Orgasmatron's comments.
Submitted by Benny (user info) at 2005-10-22 05:18:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Awesome story. So Snark what are you up to these days? Living a life outside of the internet?
Damn you people for making me think of vaginas. That looked like a creepy hallway until you guys mentioned what it could also look like.
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-10-22 05:13:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2005-10-22 01:01:16 (#)
Ranking: 2
People never really stop to think what happens to the characters in a horror movie after the credits roll, or a suspense story after the last page is turned. Chances are, given the circumstances, these people would be pretty fucked up.
This, in part, is why I enjoyed the story so much. Everyone's damaged, and understandably so.
And it was just incredibly well-written, and creepy to boot.
I need to get the little girl's voice out of my ears before I go to bed tonight.
======================
YES YES YES YES!
That's it brotha! That's it in a nutshell. That's it in all it's bleeding fucking heartrending glory. It's no fun unless the characters are you and me and every fucked up person we've ever met. Where's the succinct point if they're not? Where's the connection? Anything less than that and you're reading a goddamned Daniel Steel novel, because we're all bruised man. No matter how good our lives and how angelic our parents, we're all bruised. That's reality and fiction should reflect that.
HOLY SHIT I'M DRUNK.
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2005-10-22 01:05:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was fucking brilliant
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2005-10-22 01:01:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
People never really stop to think what happens to the characters in a horror movie after the credits roll, or a suspense story after the last page is turned. Chances are, given the circumstances, these people would be pretty fucked up.
This, in part, is why I enjoyed the story so much. Everyone's damaged, and understandably so.
And it was just incredibly well-written, and creepy to boot.
I need to get the little girl's voice out of my ears before I go to bed tonight.
Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2005-10-22 00:44:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Geez munkey, instead of camping here, why don't you go read my post.
Camper. :)
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-10-22 00:27:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2005-10-22 00:15:03 (#)
Ranking: 2
Now, before I get into this review, let me state for the record that if I saw a vagina that looked like that hallway, well.....I'd run quickly the other way.
It looks like a hallway to me.
Snarky, you have made me see the story in color in my mind. This is a good one and I enjoyed it very much. It makes me wonder why we never wrote that thing you were working on. I sure would like to collaborate with someone who thinks like you do.
-----------------------------------
i am not camping but....
i would LOVE to read soemthing you guys worked on. That would be
one helluva story!
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-10-22 00:27:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-10-21 22:52:39 (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-10-21 22:48:00 (#)
Ranking: 2
okay picture this. I am sitting here, just kinda mind numb, looking at things, listening
to music, and day dreaming. When I start to read your writing I turn the music
down, sit up, and pay attention. I need to be 'in' the story. I need for it to
comsume all of my sensations.
Your writing does that for me.
I have absolute respect and admiration for that talent.
____________________________________
yeah, but does the hallway look like a vagina, or what? I need a female's perspective.
-------------------------------
ummm ... no? hahahaha
Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2005-10-22 00:15:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Now, before I get into this review, let me state for the record that if I saw a vagina that looked like that hallway, well.....I'd run quickly the other way.
It looks like a hallway to me.
Snarky, you have made me see the story in color in my mind. This is a good one and I enjoyed it very much. It makes me wonder why we never wrote that thing you were working on. I sure would like to collaborate with someone who thinks like you do.
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-10-21 22:52:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-10-21 22:48:00 (#)
Ranking: 2
okay picture this. I am sitting here, just kinda mind numb, looking at things, listening
to music, and day dreaming. When I start to read your writing I turn the music
down, sit up, and pay attention. I need to be 'in' the story. I need for it to
comsume all of my sensations.
Your writing does that for me.
I have absolute respect and admiration for that talent.
____________________________________
yeah, but does the hallway look like a vagina, or what? I need a female's perspective.
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-10-21 22:48:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
okay picture this. I am sitting here, just kinda mind numb, looking at things, listening
to music, and day dreaming. When I start to read your writing I turn the music
down, sit up, and pay attention. I need to be 'in' the story. I need for it to
comsume all of my sensations.
Your writing does that for me.
I have absolute respect and admiration for that talent.
Submitted by shitfuck (user info) at 2005-10-21 21:43:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
That hallway looks like something else.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-10-21 20:31:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
But but but
What happens?? Don't leave us hanging, man! I demand you post the rest of this story immediately.
Great work, lots of excellent turns of phrase.
Submitted by Inmate867428 (user info) at 2005-10-21 18:40:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
really nice work man.
Submitted by freebie (user info) at 2005-10-21 18:31:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Yikes. I'm glad I dont have a basement now
Submitted by Chinaski (user info) at 2005-10-21 18:19:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I was thinking, that hallway looks JUST like a fatty vag, right as I got to the comment below!!
Jack-off session anyone?
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-10-21 17:58:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-10-21 17:13:00 (#)
Ranking: 2
does that hallway remind anyone else of spread legs and a vagina...
---
sure does!
Submitted by MandaPanda (user info) at 2005-10-21 17:57:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Creepy.
Submitted by MyTeeOne (user info) at 2005-10-21 17:18:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Damn - that was good stuff.
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-10-21 17:13:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
does that hallway remind anyone else of spread legs and a vagina...
no...
ok, just me then.
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-10-21 17:06:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Boo-ya!
really good story. liked the way you incorporated the title. awesome.
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2005-10-21 16:55:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by sideshow (user info) at 2005-10-21 16:36:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
good stuff
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-10-21 16:25:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Hehe sorry bro, just came back for this cuz a friend pointed it out... and well fuck... I like the concept.
But thanks!
Submitted by HadToBeDone (user info) at 2005-10-21 16:18:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
WELCOME BACK, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!
Come on, stick around, write me something good. You know you want to....
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-10-21 16:15:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I cut this in half and didn't proof it.
It was too long to post and I'm out of time on this end.