Kristoffer left the house, walking across the street and into the Shrieking Llama. The door shut itself behind him and he was suddenly wrapped in the warm and inviting atmosphere. The glasses clinking from behind the counter, music playing from the old jukebox in the back, and the low rumble of chatter from the groups scattered across the room, calmed Kristofferâs mind and dulled his thoughts.
He walked up to the bar and waved the bartender over. âTwo whiskey and cokes, on the rocksâ he muttered.
âI can only serve customerâs one drink at a time, Sir.â She said.
âWell, then bring me one, and when you see it empty, bring me another.â He responded angrily.
The bartender stared at it him a moment before turning to the back of the bar to mix the drink. Kristofferâs mood had been soured to say the least. His mother always knew how to push the right buttons.
The girl turned back around and set his drink in front of him. âHere.â
Kristoffer threw a fiver dollar bill on the counter for her. âKeep them coming.â He said.
Five drinks in and Kristoffer had started to relax. He still thought of his mother and their conversation earlier, but it didnât seem to matter quiet as much to him at the moment, and none of it would matter by the morning. There was rarely ever a resolution between Rosie and Kristoffer when they fought. Rosie would always play it off like it had never happened. She would manipulate and gaslight him into submission, and it would work every time, and then Rosie would get her way. Although, she had yet to get her way with Kristofferâs dating life.
Rosie was always pushing for Kristoffer to settle down with someone - anyone, at this point. She had signed him up on dating websites, set him up to go on blind dates, and had pressured him to meet many different single women. Each one was âbetterâ than the last, according to his mother. But Kristoffer had never met any of them, or done any of the other things his mother tried to get him to do.
Itâs not like he didnât want a family, he was very family oriented. Figuring out why he had such a strong aversion to relationships was a part of a series of ongoing discussions he had been having with his therapist. After their conversation, Kristoffer assumed now that all the pressure from Dr. Cockrell to discuss his dating life had really come from his mother. His therapist was nothing more than a sock puppet his mother played with.Â
Kristoffer paid his bill and stumbled back across the street to his home. It was well past 2:00AM and his mother was in her room, probably awake and waiting for his return, but he gave her no chance to come out as he quickly ducked in through his bedroom door that was next to hers and locked it behind him.
Kristoffer sighed and kicked his shoes off, followed quickly by his belt and remaining clothes. He slipped a pair of sweats on and sat at his desk.
Kristoffer worked a normal low-level business job, but what he truly wanted was to be a writer. Not to be some beautifully written poet his mother would want out of him, but to be terrifying. To cause horror and fear to a stranger through his words. He wanted to be the reason people looked behind the shower curtain.Â
Kristoffer lit up a cigarette, making sure the window was cracked open to let out the smoke, else his mother would have more to nag him over besides just dating. He took a long, hard drag of the cigarette, holding it in his chest a moment before slowly letting it out in a sigh of relief, and began to write.
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