“Hi everyone. My name’s Lou.” The crowd mumbled a greeting. Lou took the moment to look up from his feet and around the room.

He gulped.

Thinking about what happened was hard enough. A sting along the thick scar across the back of his head would flair up. Screaming. Yelling.

So to talk about the hazy memories, and in front of others – total strangers. That’s tough. Another gulp. A breath. Eyeline back to his tattered sneakers.

“It was maybe five years ago now.” Flashing blue lights haunted his vision, forcing him to look back up. Around the room and at the blank faces surrounding him. Their bland clothes and appearance matched their bland faces. Eyes and noses and mouths pointed in his general direction but no one was truly there. Heads of hair perched on bodies with no person there.

All but one in the circle. Her name tag read ‘Mary’. Her eyes affixed to him. She must have been maybe a third of his age. Late teens. He wondered how old his own daughter would have been.

A sharp stab shot through his head. Stopping that train of throught and shoving his consciousness back to the school gym of flightless souls.

“Five years since I got behind the wheel. Too many to drink. I shouldn’t have,’ he trailed off. His silly mumblings. The mumblings of a silly man. A man who should be over this. Well, maybe not over it, but certainly not still unable to even think about that night.

“I shouldn’t have done a lot of things that night.” He continued. A sense of confidence arising from the lack of sentient beings in the room. The eyes pointed in his direction were glazed over. Glazed over with exhaustion from another hour long meeting, with annoyance of hearing yet another sob story, perhaps even with their own shame and guilt as they work up their own courage to speak.

“I shouldn’t have drank. Maybe ever, but certainly not that much.“ God. He could deal with a drink right now. “And certainly not that night,” he added.

“It was my daughter’s second birthday party. We had spent the morning decorating cupcakes and getting ready for her party.” Her bright brown eyes shone in his memory. Enormous eyes. Her mother’s. He’d give Jessica that, she had gifted their daughter with some adorable looks. Certainly better than anything she could have gotten from Lou.

“I’ve spent these years blaming my ex wife. I had only been drinking to numb my brain from thinking about her new damn boyfriend.” The first time he’d met her it was as if she were a shining star. Something so beautiful and incredible. Something that felt as if it had always been there and always would be there. How silly he had been.

“But I’ve realized no one but me is responsible. Not just for that night. But for all my actions.” He paused to sip his coffee. The beverage shook in the cup as if under attack from a caffeine-hating earthquake. Taking a sip, clearing his throat, and taking a breath.

He needed grounding. He couldn’t cry in front of this group of losers. These inanimate people. Desperately, lou looked face to face to find an element of humanity to latch on to and get him to the other side of this meandering anecdote.

Mary was transfixed. Almost on the edge of her seat, staring up at Lou with the enormous eyes of a child discovering fireworks.

Comforted he wasn’t monologing for the sake of monologing he continued.

“I lost my daughter that night.” He hoped the sounds his mouth had just made were words. They felt like words but they never sounded right to him. “I lost my daughter and it was my fault.” The shame was unbearable. The waters had risen. The tide was in. The car was upside down. And he was drowning. Drowning in the shame. Drowning in the hatred for the man who caused this. For himself.

It was too much. He placed his trembling coffee cub on the ground and excused himself. Making his way to the door.

As he did so he caught the faces of those in the room. The lack thereof. And the devastation on the face of Mary.

Her eyes a watery mess. A deep redness shone from the back of the white of her eyes. A rich honey brown from her pupil. Such enormous eyes had produced more than their fair share of tears.

He had been staring at her a beat too long. He was being weird.

Lou apologised again and made his way out of the dark gym hall.

As she did every night, Mary began packing up the AA meeting. The coffee cups in the bin, the chairs stacked in the corner, the dressed up mannequins into the closet. They always freaked her out.

After her father’s coma she’d taken on a lot more responsibility. Cooking, cleaning, etc. This was by far the hardest part of it. She flicked the hall light switches and headed into the entryway.

A knock at the main door. 9:10pm everyday. A knock at the main door. She walks to answer. It’s Lou. Her face makes a shocked expression. “Hi there! Can I help you?”

The man was drenched by the rain. Only adding to the overwhelming sadness of his appearance. His hands shoved into his pockets as he pulled out a crumpled (and now wet) flyer.

“This is the AA meeting, right? Oh, I didn’t miss it did I?”

“Oh yes it is! And no worries, we were only getting started.” Mary pulled the exterior doors open and let her father in.