Through The Dark

21 - Emmalyn

21 - Emmalyn

'Olivia?! Olivia, where did you go?!' I yelped over the loud music. She had just let go of my hand for a second, but she was nowhere to be seen or found now. I started to panic. 'Where the fuck are you?!' I seethed, immediately hating the insanely loud music.

Oh god, this was bad. This was not my kind of crowd or place. I was not used to this and I had no idea of what to do, who to talk to or where to go. It was common for police to come to these parties or people's drinks to get spiked and whatnot. What if I woke up in a stranger's bed with no clothes on? I had watched some movies where that happened. Or what if I ended up in jail when I had not even done anything wrong but for being in the wrong place at the wrong time?!

Okay, maybe I was being a bit paranoid and it was starting to show off how I obviously did not go out much. But anything could happen, like for real. Bad things happened when you least expected them.

I looked around frantically. My eyes were ready to pop out of their sockets, and by the way the boys and girls around me danced –it was so dirty, humps and bodies pressed as tightly as possible here and there, that I felt like washing my eyes with bleach until all the sin was cleaned away- I knew it could and would happen so pretty soon. This was too much and too soon. I just wanted to get out. I could not deal with this, I could not handle it.

My breathing was hitching up and I was starting to see everything double, even if I had not had a single drop of alcohol. And I was smart and educated enough to know you could not get drunk just by inhaling the smell. Even though, there might be drugs around here and if I inhaled the contaminated air, I could get some drugs into my veins. But it was too soon for that either, so I was most likely just freaking out. What was wrong with Olivia that she left me in here on my own?! It was my fault for trusting her as my companion to a party. Given her past and reputation, I should never have done this. And not only this, I should never have even talked to her. We are so different. We could never be friends or help each other.

I shook my head and forced myself to focus on the scene that was unraveling at the moment with me in the spotlight when someone bumped into me. Everyone was starting to reduce the space there was between them and me, because I was right in the middle of the dance floor –which was an improvised plywood floor on the living room- now that I was on my own and that I had just stood there for a while.

No matter what the reason was, I was offended that they would as much as get near me with their stinky and drunk selves. Had they no manners at all? Well, when you are at a party I doubt you are thinking about anything but having a good time and/or getting drunk.

That was, at least, what I had seen in movies on my free weekends, which as I looked at now, were a lot. I never thought I cared until tonight. Being in this place, with everyone having so much fun and not caring about anyone or anything, I thought that maybe, just maybe, I really did miss out on something great these past years.

I squirmed my way out of the swarm of people and got to a hallway that was way less crowded. I let go of the breath I was holding in –both because of how bad the people back there in the dance floor smelled and because I just did not feel comfortable and could not breathe until I was safe and sound in a clean place (the theory of inhaling drugs involuntarily was still possible and plausible, I did not want to risk it) - and fixed my grey cardigan.

Suddenly, the light blue short denim jumpsuit I had underneath it did not look like such a good idea. Olivia had not said anything but her look when she first saw me back in my house said everything: she would have chosen something else. I pushed the thought away. I did not care about what Olivia Campbell thought, fashion wise and any other wise way.