Monochrome Read Online Free PDF Page B

forget. And therein lay the problem with whiskey. It could numb you to your worries but it never took them away.
    She faced Ishmael and was surprised to see rage settle on his face.
    “Why are you glaring at me?” she shot at him, getting angry herself.
    Ishmael, caught off guard, shook himself and put on his normal apathetic mask. “Sorry. Just wondering what makes you think something like that,” he replied.
    “I felt it. I mean…” She didn’t even know how to explain what she saw in her glass since doing so would make her sound crazy. But she knew what she saw was accurate, somehow. What she saw really happened, so what Jason felt must also have happened.
    “You saw, then? A memory?”
    She gawked at him. “How do you know…”
    He shrugged and placed a cigarette between his lips. Speaking over the cigarette, lighting it with trembling fingers, he explained, “You have the appearance of someone who has been tested. I see it in everyone I guide.”
    Abigail shook her head. “That was a memory. What I saw,” she paused, wiping a new tear from her cheek, “it happened. I just saw it from Jason’s point of view instead of my own.” She poured another drink, and downed it.
    “You should’ve felt how repulsed he was with me…” Unable to finish, she swirled her glass in quiet desperation.
    He grabbed the bottle from her right hand, poured a shot into his empty glass, and drank it. “I’ve felt it. I mean, not exactly, but close enough. I’ve felt and seen the revulsion of someone I cared about plenty, Abby. Believe me.” His voice didn’t change, but his eyes clouded.
    He poured himself another shot, grabbed her glass and poured her another. “It was a test. I can’t tell you what to feel or do about it, but I can tell you I know how desperate you feel right now.” He sipped the whiskey in front of him and took a drag from his cigarette.
    “So, here’s your choice. We can continue to drink this overpriced whiskey, and you truly don’t know how much it will cost you.” Shame tainted his opal eyes. “Or we can continue to try to get you home. What’ll it be?”
    She saw the same guilt settle upon him. What does he have to be guilty about? She returned his stare, an act made easier due to the liquid desensitization drumming through her veins.
    Ishmael shifted uncomfortably. He broke the standoff and played with his cigarette in the ashtray in front of him, rolling it, still lit, among the ashes already in the tray. “Well? Stay or go, Abby. Your choice.”
    She thought about what she just saw, and tried to still the tears stuck in her throat. She moved to drink her shot, but stopped short. “If that was a test, it may be testing my determination to get back home, right?”
    He didn’t answer, but took another drag of his cigarette and slowly exhaled.
    “If it was,” she continued, “then I’m not going to fail it. Maybe Jason did hate me then. I’m not too fond of me, either.” She paused and thought about how many times she’d been angry with him.
    “But I think it’ll pass. I know he normally loves me very much. I can make it up to him, to them .”
    Ishmael appeared doubtful. His doubt made her more determined to prove herself right. She didn’t like when people doubted her.
    “Plus, my baby needs me, regardless.” She stood up, put the cap back on the whiskey and slid it to the bartender. “How much do I owe you?”
    Jim caught the whiskey in a lazy motion and ambled towards her. “Five shots for you. You can hold your shots, lady.” He eyed her standing firm, patting her outfit, vainly searching for money. Abigail grunted, more worried about the fact her trip here left her without her wallet. I’ve got practice. S he thought to herself.
    “Two for Ishmael, plus a whiskey and coke.” Jim nodded in Ishmael’s direction. “One yellow memory or two purples. Unless you have a moon, which I doubt.”
    Abigail, who was checking her dress frantically for pockets, stopped and