Hands in the air, hair sticking to the sweaty body, legs moving to the music that has no meaning, surrounded by people who are even hard to identify as strangers or friends. Who cares, that’s what college parties are, aren’t they? Hips moving against the crotch of the guy behind, talking as if they really can here, and laughing as if someone said a joke. A little far from all this, there I was, grossed out by everything happening and very happy with being left alone.
Yes, I was an audience to all that, that seems to be fun to a lot of people, including my friends. While I was here, pretending to text someone just to avoid making eye contact, worried if so they might drag me to dance. As I do get almost successful with pretend text, he leans on to me, “What are you doing alone?” he asks, popping a mint into his mouth, his porcelain skin shinning in the night-light, must be all the beer he drinks or the drugs he just inhaled, who knows. I don’t bother responding knowing he’s drunk to a stage where he will wander off without realizing where he is in about a min, just have to wait for the minute to pass. He nudges me again, but I stay ‘pretend text mode.’
The songs changes and the whole crowd goes coo-Koo for a regional degraded song, which describes about how the girl likes getting touched everywhere by strangers. It surprises me how girls can even stand to listen to this song, let alone dance to it. I plug-in my headsets and here comes Linking Park with their Crawling, place my elbows on the railing, lay my head back and off I go, far far away from this place.
The playlist keeps moving forward and i refuse to open my eyes to this obscenity. Universe hates to see me in peace. I can hear her crying, means he is obviously still standing next to me. A classic love tale it is, my best friend, at least I thought she was, and the “cool” guy from my class, falling in love. He was okay looking, I’ll give him that, better looking than anyone in our class, but it doesn’t stand a chance against his drug abuse, alcoholism and womanizing. Knowing I’d totally regret opening my eyes and mouth to this situation, I still do it. ‘You okay, sweetie?’ yea coax her into using you once again.
30 minutes later…
Mornings are beautiful, but the nights, the nights are mesmerizing. The cool breeze from behind tickling my nape, the peeking moon light made more beautiful with the light drizzle. In an attempt to bring sensation back to my palms, I start rubbing them, even before they could warm up I see a cab, throw my hands in the air and start yelling out for it. I start rushing closer to it, walking in the middle of the road but he curves against me and passes by in a blink. ‘Assh**e’ I yell out showing him the finger, completely aware that he neither heard or saw it.
From never stepping out of home after seven, to wandering on a dark lonely street at late nights, dreading a cab wait. My how I changed! I hear her sobbing standing on the side walk frozen. “Adventure awaits” they said, when I first stepped into that college. This wasn’t the kind I had in mind. Noticing my lack of concern towards her sobs, she cries a little louder,’What?’ I shriek. “That was like the first cab we’ve seen in an hour” she mumbles, scared I might yell again.
‘How about we walk a little further,’ I say trying not to sound like I wanna kill her, ‘we might find us a cab there?’ she nods so innocent. If I were lesbian I’d totally fall for that, but right now I am furious, on myself. Two young girls in a dark lonely street knowing nothing about which is the right direction home, wow this really is a great thing you are doing for your friend, huh. I might as well get kidnapped, raped and beaten to death. Tomorrow’s headlines reading, “Trying to save a friend from missing her curfew a stupid girl gets beaten to death by a psycho killer” who probably will keep my finger or heart or some weird shit part as token of his murders.
We walk in silence for what seems like forever, her sobbing is starting to get on my nerves. A girl who has a drug dealer (sort of) guy as her boyfriend, who takes her to mysterious places with very strange people visiting them is scared of a dull street? I on the other hand have no idea of the route back home and have read enough crime stories to realize that this is the part where the girl who cries escapes the psycho killer while the other one becomes the victim, the other one being me. Yet I feel calm and okay, surprising as it is, knowing there is an 80% chance I won’t make it home, I am indefinitely feeling brave.
This is as far as my adventures will go, with my orthodox family always hovering over me, and I was feeling proud to have keeping my calm in such adverse situation.
“There, a cab is coming” She yells, is that how she yells when she is also cumming. I push the weird thought out and yell for the cab. He stops and asks where to, I give him the address and she whispers, ‘we don’t know the route’ I give her a hush it down look and get into the cab when the driver signals us to come in. She still is staring at me with the same question on her face. I take out my phone and type in a note and show it to her, she calms down and stays that way till we reach home.
45 minutes later…
“You are home early” my mom says as I walk in to my room, ‘Yea, the party ended soon’ I bolt the door behind me, suddenly reminded of the note in my phone, I open it up and start deleting it..
letting the driver know we aren’t familiar with this road is the first sign towards our death. So act like you’ve grown up here and fake like you are brave, even if you don’t feel like it. Trust me faking brave bring true safety⌫
Copyright 2016 Grace Anne
[The above story is a complete work of fiction by me, on the discover challenge of The daily post. This is also a part of series I am working on, you can read the Chapter before it here, do review please :)]