A Slave to Love

“Alright, who’s ready to get down tonight?” the DJ called over the loud thumping music and teenagers and adults dancing in the club.

Cheers resounded from every corner of the heated club while the DJ changed song and put on some really sucky song that everyone immediately cheered and started to grind on their partners in a way which they call ‘dancing.’

Not even.

While everyone else was ‘getting their freak on’ I was sitting at the bar watching them all act like drunk idiots.

I don’t even know why I bothered to come tonight; it was a pointless effort to make my friends feel better but to put me in a bad mood. I disliked clubbing and going out shopping and all those usual things girls are supposed to enjoy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not the type of girl who dresses like a total guy, but I don’t exactly where skirts and dresses on a daily basis. I stick to my usual jeans, running shoes and a tee-shirt.

Of course, when we all went out clubbing I had to trade in my jeans and sneakers for skin-tight dresses and high heels.

I searched the dance floor and saw my friends getting it on with a few guys. I snorted at them before I thanked the bartender, who I knew quite well from all my trips here since I always stayed by the bar. He knew of my distaste for being here and he knew I didn’t like getting drunk so he always had water and stuff ready for me.

Of course, tonight I was having an even worse night than usual. My boyfriend of six months just dumped me because he was cheating on me. Yeah, he dumped me because he was unfaithful. Care to explain the logic to that? I guess he just wanted to do it himself since obviously I was going to kick his ass to the curb the next time I laid eyes on him.

So, since I was in a worse mood than usual Mickey, the burly bartender, had given me a bit of alcohol, even those I was under aged. Considering this is only the second time I’ve had any, I thought I was doing quite well.

I stumbled awkwardly in my heels towards the dance floor, finally getting close enough to my friends to shout that I had a headache and was going home.

They simply rolled their eyes at me and nodded. I scowled as I walked away, feeling unstable in heels. I wasn’t used to wearing heels plus now I was slightly intoxicated so that didn’t really help me much.

It was kind of funny how there were so many underage teenagers at this club and they either didn’t notice or didn’t care that we were all here, getting drunk and hooking up with random guys.

It was sad.

I found our table, picked up my light jacket, examined it thoroughly before I headed outside.

A few guys on the street looked at me and whistled, “Hey, baby. You want to make a couple of hundred bucks?” one of them called.

I ignored them, zipping up my coat against the fresh June night. I walked down the sidewalk of the downtown part of town, feeling the fresh wind brush against my bare legs. I shivered as I hurried and stumbled down the street. My house was about an hour and a half walk away from the club, but I would be lucky if I made it home without getting raped first by one of the freaks out at night.

Since it was a Friday night downtown, obviously there were a bunch of drunks and freaks out on the streets and I couldn’t help but wish I had stayed at the club where it was safe….most of the time.

I bowed my head against the wind, keeping my eyes down as I watched my feet move down the sidewalk.

It was better not to make eye-contact with people, eye-contact just made you stick out more. Of course, being me in my high heels and tight dress, which you could see came down to about the half-way point of my thigh; obviously I stuck out like a sore thumb.

I cursed my friends for making me wear this ridiculous outfit since it now looked like I was just asking someone to rape me.

Since I had been looking at my feet, I hadn’t been paying attention to where I was going, therefore when I looked up I had no clue where I was but all I knew was that I was so not supposed to be here. Looking around, I heard throbbing music and saw a strip club ahead of me.

Definitely not supposed to be here.

I turned around quickly, hurrying back up the street the way I came hoping I could regain my path and get home where it was nice and safe.

I couldn’t for the life of me remember if I had turned or not, so when I arrived at an intersection I froze up. I looked down each street, each one looking worse than the last. I finally settled on picking the right hand path and made my way slowly down the street.