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The Lost British Liar vs. A Mouthy Molly

A verbal fight on a Sunday night in a nightclub

By MPublished 3 months ago 8 min read
2
The Lost British Liar vs. A Mouthy Molly
Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash

Rudy was now coming back inside from his cigarette break, walking over to join Tim, Sandra, and me at the end of the bar.

“I think that woman out there is something strong.” Rudy said, pointing out toward the figure of a woman standing outside the window to the bar. “She randomly came running around the corner, so at first I wasn’t sure if she needed help, but then she started acting even weirder and kicking at stuff while making weird mumbles.”

“Weird mumbles?” Tim repeated Rudy's words questionably.

“Yeah… it just sounded weird.”

Tim rolled his eyes at Rudy, not seeming to be sure if he should take Rudy seriously or laugh at the scenario. I looked over towards the window to try to get another look at the woman Rudy was talking about and took a bit of an understanding of what he was feeling right away. I can’t tell if it’s just due to our over-thinking anxiety-run brains, but the woman did have eerie energy just from a simple glance of her through the ash-smudged windows of the bar at the front of the building. She stood on the other side of the glass, staring straight at us.

I looked back at Tim, Sandra, and Rudy to see if either of them had taken notice of the woman looking in the bar at us, but they were already back to paying attention to the television and their phones instead. Suddenly the door opens, followed by the same woman walking inside the bar. She moved rather quickly yet quietly, like a spider, instead of the drunk sailor Rudy had described her as. She made her way to the back of the bar and quietly took a seat in a chair down from mine. She seemed uneasy, glancing around the room and then over my way with wide eyes as her arms curled around her body as if trying to guard herself.

“Hi,” I say with a smile, trying to bring some ease to each of our nerves. “I’m Cher.”

She remained silent while her eyes bounced back and forth from the bartop to me, not allowing herself to singularly focus on one.

“Is everything okay?” I ask her.

Her eyes stop batting as she stares at me, sending a shiver up my spine.

(Damn. This molly must be amping my anxiety.)

“Hey there!” Devin says, greeting the woman. “Could I get you anything at all?”

The woman remained silent and gave glances toward Devin now.

“I’m just drinking a seltzer for now,” I say to the woman as I turn the Truly can around to show her the logo.

The woman remains silent as her eyes continue darting from person to object to person throughout the front side of the bar. I couldn’t tell if the woman was scared, but she did act as if she was hiding from something, like keeping an eye out.

“I know you don’t know us, and it’s hard to trust anyone these days, but are you sure everything’s okay?” I asked her again. “Just seems like something scared you out there.”

“Um…” She suddenly speaks. “It’s just that I’m lost.” Her voice was peculiar. It withered between sounding like a British accent and an Australian one, but neither can pin-point down.

“Lost?” I asked her. “Are you not from around here?”

“We’re heading out,” Tim says. I turn to my right, where Tim and Sandra are both coated up, ready to step back into the night.

“Okay,” I say as I give the two of them each a hug individually. “Not your guys’ night?”

“No, Cher,” Tim said back sassily. “It’s cause it’s Sunday.”

“Yeah, girl,” Sandra said. “I’ve gotta get at least a little sleep this week.”

As the two of them leave, I catch Tim giving the woman sitting next to me a side eye glare, even himself seeming taken aback by her accent. I turn back to her as she sits there, now sipping off her Truly seltzer can. I give her a small smile, but she gives none in return.

“So where’s the accent from?” I ask her, starting up a conversation between us once again.

“Um... It’s just…” She started mostly just looking down towards the bar top now. “I’m lost. I’m not from here. I’m from…” She stays quiet for a second. “I’m just new here, and I got lost.” She said again.

“When did you move here?” I asked her.

Her eyebrows scrunched up slightly, seeming to show signs of irritation.

“You see…” She took a sip of her drink. “I don’t know the area. I’m new here, and I got lost. I need help finding my way back so that I’m not lost for the rest of the night.”

The sound of her accent started fading even more, and then in a split second, her eyes told me something that felt like I’d remembered having noticed previously before. Her pupils expanded, but the rest of her eyes showed emptiness, aside from the thin longed-out white line glowing across the top of her eyes, a bit below her eyelids.

I turned to my right, where Rudy was standing, talking to Corey.

“Rudy,” I said, trying to grab his attention. He didn’t seem to hear me, so I tapped his shoulder, trying not to let the woman take notice, though it felt as if I could feel her cold stare over my shoulder. Rudy took notice and turned my way.

“What?” He asked me.

I mouthed a particular word, though out of utter honesty, I wasn’t even sure if that’s what the woman was representing.

“What?” He asked again.

My anxiety suddenly arose, making me unable to get the words out of my mouth. I mouthed the word to Rudy again as I raised my hand and pointed towards my head, as my finger went around in circles.

(As stated in the title, I was on molly.)

Rudy understood me that time and looked over at the woman. While doing it’s as if his body froze as his eyes spoke everything. He glanced back and forth from me to her at a quick speed. I turned around and looked back over at her. Her face had completely changed, now just showing signs of both anger and annoyance in one, while her eyes remained as dead as Woody Allen’s. She suddenly grabbed my lighter from the table and continued staring straight at me as if threatening to burn the building down with the little object.

“Stop that,” I say, sounding like a mother.

She glares at me as I take the lighter back out of her hands and put it in my pocket.

“Come to the bathroom with me.” She says. “I need to tell you something.”

“Fuck no,” I say.

“Come to the bathroom with me!” She insists

I look back toward Rudy and Corey, trying to get them to kick this woman out of the bar for the night.

She suddenly leans close to my ear and whispers in one of the strangest forms of a raging tone that I’ve ever heard, saying, “get in the fucking bathroom!” My entire body froze for a second before I rose from my chair and followed her to the bathroom as she demanded me to.

“Cher, wait.” I hear Rudy call from behind me.

“Come on, girl.” The woman growls at me again.

“Go away, Rudy!” I say, turning back around towards him.

I turn and face the woman who’s now in the bathroom, her eyes dark and empty once again. “If you try anything, I’m gonna punch you in the fucking face,” I say, before shutting the bathroom door behind me.

“Come on, girl. Just come into the stall with me. You’re so pretty.” She says, suddenly changing from angry to someone seeking sexual attention.

“What’s going on with you?” I ask. “Do you need help or something?”

“What? No! I want your pretty self to come into the stall with me.” She says, coming closer to me and taking hold of a piece of my long strawberry blonde hair.

“Are you going through mania or something?” I ask her.

(Fucks now that was just shitty of me. I need a break from molly after tonight.)

She goes silent and gives me another glare. I reach for the door handle to leave, but she slams it back shut with both her hands while staring at me with fiery eyes and a big smile growing on her face. My heart starts racing in overload, and my skin turns pink. “Get the fuck back, or else I’m punching you in the fucking face!” I shout in her face. She backs away and suddenly changes to the role of the victim while I pretend to be the villain. “Do you want me to punch you in the fucking face?” I ask, my voice growing even louder this time.

There’s a sudden bang on the door, Rudy's voice asking from the other side, “Cher, what’s going on in there?”

“Fuck off Rudy!” I shout back at him again.

I open the door and storm past him back into the barroom. The same people are still there going about their conversations while Devin looks over at me worriedly. I go up to the bar closest to the couple and sit in one of the chairs. Right after sitting out comes the woman looking angry in the eyes but eased within the body now, at least. I continue staring at her as she comes up right behind me and shakes at my chair.

“Come on! Let’s dance!” She says excitedly.

“No. I think it’s time you left.” Rudy says sternly as he walks over to her. She grabs Rudy’s arm and starts trying to dance with him while Rudy keeps repeating the sentence he said before, but she keeps dancing, ignoring him completely.

“Get the fuck out!” Devin suddenly screams. “Get the fuck out now, or else I’m calling the cops to come and get you themselves instead!”

Everyone stands still. The woman stops dancing and stares blankly back at Devin.

“Oh, come on!” She says, trying to lighten Devin up.

“No! Get the fuck out, or else I call the cops!” Devin shouts, again, while pointing towards the door.

The woman responds with a huff and roll of the eyes and then heads straight out the door.

(What the fuck just happened?)

investigationfact or fiction
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