Aubrey's Rebellion

Blinding Lights Followed By a Horn and Then a Crash

Bryan got a hold of my ear, grabbing it tightly, and using it to pull me off the ground. His face was tomato red, and I laughed drunkenly. He looked like Elmo. I leaned against him for balance, unable to hold myself upright. I knew I shouldn’t have had a third; Long Island kills.

I giggled as he reached down, putting his hands beneath the back sides of my legs, and lifting me up into his arms. Through the fog in my eyesight, I could see the hurt in his eyes. I pushed it off with a high-pitched laugh. Bryan gazed down at me with a single tear rolling down his cheek. That wasn’t the first time I had offended him.

He always expected too much of me and was always disappointed when I gave him nothing but the norm: a refusal to follow any set rules. I played by my own. Ever since the accident, I haven’t been the same.

Bryan stomped to his rusty sedan and opened the side door with one hand, cradling me in the other. I snickered as if it were the funniest thing in the entire world. Bryan just sighed and gently set me down in the passenger seat. The cold leather felt extremely cold, and I let out an “Ahhhhhhhh!” It came out too slurred to comprehend.

Bryan ignored my outburst and angrily buckled my seat belt. I squealed with laughter the whole time, pissing him off even more. He slammed the door behind him. I clapped my hands, applauding his frustration. When he took a seat beside me, he really looked like Elmo.

His face was crimson, and his forehead was creased with frustration. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly as he drove away that I thought it would break into pieces. His veins throbbed so violently I thought they would burst. I reached over the seat and tugged at his arm.

He furiously ripped it away. I giggled, amused by the reaction. Suddenly, his sedan spiraled out of control. Bryan frantically tried to stop it, but it was too late. We heard the honk of the horn, watched the blinding lights race into view, and then, silence.

I was too drunk to respond. I just sat in terror, my eyes widening at the sight of blood gushing from Bryan’s head. The truck had hit his side. I remained completely unscathed. Sirens wailed in the distance, making me grin from ear to ear and bang on my window.

In a rush, my door was flung open and a stranger (at least I thought so at the time) unbuckled my seatbelt. He tore me out of the car and threw me over his shoulder. I felt like a princess; I envisioned movies where guys held the girls bridal style. I smelled a familiar scent; it was booze with a hint of mint. It meant nothing to me at the moment.

I stared at his sexy butt, ignoring the blood rushing to my head. I felt my stomach clench and then a familiar nauseating feeling erupted. Uh oh…

Before I could slap a hand over my mouth, puke poured out of it. I made a disgusting gagging sound in the back of my throat as the contents of my stomach spilled onto the stranger gripping me protectively. I heard him gasp and then groan, but he continued on, not allowing the unpleasant accident stop him. I wondered why he was carrying me and where we were going. There was a throbbing in my head though, so I ignored it.

I just closed my eyes and relaxed as he rhythmically put one foot in front of the other, gracefully moving forward. A cool breeze flowed steadily through the calm night, lulling me right to sleep. In minutes, I was snoring.

I awoke in my room with nothing but woods peering in at me through the windows as I looked out. It felt cold in the room, like cool air was slipping through the window. I shivered and searched for Bryan. I barely remembered a thing from the previous night, but knew enough to know that he wasn’t okay. I recalled the blinding lights, the horn, the crash.

My head was spinning, and I had a major migraine. “Ugh!” I groaned. I hate hangovers. Rolling out of bed, I stretched my tired legs. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I wondered why I even went out to that club. Honestly, I had no clue.