A girl, her steps heavy with alcohol and lack of sleep, wandered through the empty early-morning streets. Her make-up was smeared with faint red smudges streaked across her mouth, the remainder of last night’s lipstick. She wore a slightly dazed expression on her face, her eyes strangely vacant. The girl arrived at the front door of non-descript house, her tired figure almost collapsing before she was able to push her keys into the lock. Heavy-lidded, she stumbled in as it swung back and was swallowed up by the inside.
I woke up that morning with a mouth coated in the remnants of sour alcohol, the aftertaste of last night’s antics. My head felt on the verge of exploding, covering the entire room in the bloody remains of my, definitely still intoxicated, brain. I scrunched my nose, picturing the gory details in my mind and attempted to open my sleep-encrusted eyes. Slowly, I forced my hand to creep up the smooth, leather couch that I lay on, until it reached my face. I rubbed the gooey gunk from my lashes, not bothering to open them first. Harsh light sliced through blinds onto my surroundings and I squinted as the brightness brought everything into harsh focus. Somewhere, I heard the click of a remote control and bursts of sound blared. Seconds after, coloured light let shadows dance on the wall behind me. I slammed my eyes back shut as the screen in front of me flickered and a hoarse groan escaped my dry throat.
‘Turn it down,’ I tugged the red blob of blanket back up to my tangled blond hair, until just below the dark crescents that I was sure had appeared underneath my eyes. At this point, I found it hard to determine whether it was last night’s make-up, or just the lack of sleep. After a summer spent successfully drowning myself in electric nights, it wasmost likelya mixture of the two.
I waited, as my brain pounded angry waves of nausea through my body, for the noise to quieten. But nothing happened, in fact, it seemed to pierce my ears even more sharply. Gripping the fluffy material in between my chipped nails, I willed myself to move an inch, wincing at the soreness of my body wince.
‘Seriously, this is not cool’, I attempted to swallow the seemingly endless amount of phlegm coating my throat. Water. I needed water. Slowly, I slid off the sofa and waited for the room to cease spinning. Then, with the blanket trailing behind me, began to shuffle towards the door. I gathered the red folds in a protective layer around me in an attempt to stop shivering and dragged myself towards the small kitchen. The floorboards, pathing the way towards the sink, stretched themselves out before me. But the glint of the steel tap quickened my shuffling steps, my mouth running dry as it dripped. The moment my hands were able to grasp the metal faucet, I hung my head beneath it and let the blissfully cold water pour into my mouth.
‘Hungover much?’ Brian, my flatmate, leant against the doorway, tapping the remote control against his arm.
‘Switch that bloody TV off, idiot’, my chapped lips pulled into a small involuntary smile as I returned, dropping onto the couch.
‘Oh, stop being such a grumpy git. Let’s watch something together, I promise I’ll turn it down.’
I chewed the inside of my cheek silently for a moment and Brian decided to take my silence as consent before I could make up my mind. As he began to flick through the different channels I instantly regretted my choice, and pulled my mouth into a thin, straight line. Most of my brain was still shrouded in an alcoholic mist and too foggy for me to do anything more than sigh. When there was no reaction I stretched my limbs instead and cracked my joints, grinning as Brian grimaced. I felt my eyelids begin to grow heavy while I watched as the TV’s images flashed and flickered. But just as I was about to fall back into the comfort of hungover sleep, something caught my attention.
‘Wait.’ I sat back up, the pain splitting my temple in two temporarily forgotten. A familiar scene unfolded on the flat screen before me. It was nothing more than a generic electric night but something about it felt wrong, almost too real. A stressful strobe of lights filtered through my squinting eyes and loud deep bass music filled the air. I shivered when the camera zoomed in on one figure in particular. A girl, petite and hair bleached blond, leaned alone against the sticky, black surface of a bar. There were two men watching her from a short distance away, hungrily eyeing her gentle curves, wrapped in a short lacy dress. I could almost see the drool dripping from their mouths as she absentmindedly rubbed her neck. Completely unaware of their gaunt faces, she lifted a hand to her lips, chest expanding deeply. My hand gently rested on my throat, I could almost taste the smoke in my lungs as the girl’s shoulders relaxed. Her fingers wrapped around a tall drink, the same beverage that had caused the bitter aftertaste still coating my mouth. 40% Rum, 60% Coke topped with a few drops of vanilla to take the edge off. I swallowed the beginnings of a scream when I realized that this was my favourite concoction. I chewed the soft skin on the inside of my lips uneasily, frantically reassuring myself that this was no big deal, many people liked this drink. Besides, there was no reason for me to believe that there was even the slightest hint of vanilla. Still, I couldn’t stop the cold sweat beginning to run down the back of my neck and between my shoulders.
The girl lifted her eyes from the drink and let her gaze roam the room. Her eyes were bright as she scanned the crowd for someone. Eliza. My friend with the burnt autumn hair, the girl I had been with the night before. It could not be her, but my palms felt sticky all the same as I rubbed them. Something about all of this did not feel right, too real somehow.
‘You ok, Sophie?’ I barely reacted to Brian’s concerned tone, unable to take my eyes off the screen. I was hooked on the faintly familiar images and scenes and slowly felt an icy fear begin to crawl through my veins. Every muscle in my body tensed as I felt a sinking sensation hit the pit of my stomach. The girl in the movie waved as she spotted someone in the crowd. She did not see the white powder bubbling as it melted into her drink, too focused on her friend in the crowd. The light bounced off two sets of glinting teeth, as the leering men watched her lift the glass to her mouth. I pulled at a stray piece of dry skin on my lips as the girl touched a hand to hers. I could almost smell the smoke filling her lungs before she let the glowing tip of her cigarette sail to the floor. The girl’s bare fingers ruffled through her shock of blonde hair and, with a last fleeting glance behind her, she grabbed her drink and left for the mass of pulsing bodies on the dancefloor. I remembered the sweet liquid that poured down her throat and how it had felt, coated like honey, soft and sweet. When a rosy tint appeared on her cheeks, I knew it was not just the alcohol warming her skin and flowing through her bloodstream. Her lips opened slightly, the soft arches parting in the shape of a small circle. My hands shook as I watched her tilt her face up to the ceiling, her lashes painting delicate lines onto her face as the lights splashed over her. I recognized that look of pure elation too well, could still remember doing it the previous night. When she snapped open her lids again, her eyes had become big glassy bubbles of black, mirroring the bright colours emitted by the lights on the dancefloor.
She stared, transfixed as people’s faces were caught in the light around her, as if hypnotised. She swayed slightly, and her movements started to look sluggish, carrying a distracted look on her features. I did not need to see this. The blanket slid from my shoulders as I stood up, almost tripping as I ran back to the kitchen sink and spat an acidic yellow puddle into the steal sink. I could still hear the rhythmically thumping beat of the music playing from the living room, but it felt too close now, too real. My hands gripped the kitchen counter, my nails digging further into it as I waited to hear what I had been unable to watch. I knew what was going to happen, how the world would begin to distort and stretch into unfamiliar smears around her and quicken the girl’s heartbeat into an unsteady rhythm. She would see the warm swirls of her friend’s hair dancing ahead of her and a ghostly smile would dance across her face.
Every inch of my skin was covered in slick sweat and goose bump as I slid down along the wooden cupboard, wishing I had taken the blanket with me. I hugged my knees to my chest and pushed my forehead against them, angrily trying to smother the unbearable images. But there was no escaping them, no matter how hard I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes. My heartbeat thundered rhythmically, and I felt an arm sling around my shoulders bringing the warped world springing back into shape. I could feel Eliza’s prickly, damp curls press against my cheek. When I looked up an excited shout erupted from her mouth, accompanied by her boozy breath. I felt my empty stomach churn and rubbed my skin, sticky with panic. I tried to stand up, pushing the suffocating bodies away from me, but my limbs felt like cotton, too light and soft to control. I needed to get out, needed to remind myself somehow that this was not real. It was the only thought I was able to hold onto in the fuzzy mist in my head. But I still felt Eliza’s arm tighten around my shoulders, tugging me closer as her small mouth moved. She was trying to tell me something, but I could hear nothing but the music threatening to burst my eardrums and the roar of my growing panic. Eliza stumbled as she stood up, one of her stick-thin stiletto heels had snapped. My hands wrapped around the grimy object and I felt it’s pointed end bite into my hand. I looked at it, waiting for some sort of reaction from my body as a thin rivulet trickled across my palm. Then, for one short, sweet moment the thick mist shrouding my thoughts cleared enough for me to grab the outstretched palm. I stood up, balanced on unsteady feet but I could already feel the deep fog rising like small bubbles, bursting the delicate clarity. Using all the strength I could muster, I pushed the writhing mass of dancing bodies off me, as the sour bile of panic gathered at the back of my throat. My mind screamed, filled only with thoughts of escape and desperately trying to prevent the panic from suffocating me.
Exit – where was the exit? In the seconds of darkness between flashes, I pushed against something soft and felt it give way and a wet warmth flowed from the sickeningly deep tear beneath my hands. The world lit up again and I looked at the liquid spreading beneath my palms into a splatter of bright red on the broken canvas of Eliza’s bare stomach. I reached out, watching as my fingertips painted a streak of blood across her cheek and replaced her glowing smile. Her eyes widened until they looked like sunken holes, her scream silenced by the beat. She held her hands before her, as in the midst of careless souls and ecstatic faces, her intestines spilled out onto her palms. A small part of my brain roared at me to help her, but I could not take my eyes off the drops of ruby, sprinkled across her skin. My eyes followed one as it began to run down her skin, a sparkling rivulet running down toward the floor. I gasped, seeing it fall to the ground, and walked slowly after as it travelled further into the crowd. A short giggle exploded through my lips, I had finally found an exit. I glanced back, catching a glimpse of burnt auburn curls before they melted back into the sea of sluggish creatures as they swayed back and forth.
I burst through an iron door into the night outside, barely realizing that it had already begun to end. A cold breeze raised every single hair on my body and I relished the fresh air filling my lungs, breathing in deeply. While my eyes had adjusted to the grey morning light, I ooked for the guiding droplet that had rescued me from the darkness, hoping it could guide me home. I wanted to flee from the echoes of bass and blood and get back to the safety and comfort of my familiarity as quickly as I could. But the ground was covered in nothing but the familiar wooden floorboards of my living room. Credits rolled across the black TV-screen in front of me.