“I would rather have a liver transplant without anesthesia than go to that stupid party.” My mind was a rock, stuck in place. Stuck on the ground, just like my feet, I wasn’t moving.
I’m not a rock, rather, a pillow or a beach ball. Something that can be thrown around, or carried, I was an absolute pushover.
The car made a right-hand turn toward the club. We were several feet away from the front doors and the lights turned my stockings into blood. It dripped down my legs and made puddles on the floor, just like the sweat on my face. I didn’t want to be here. My door was forced open by the bouncer. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked until my body collapsed on the pavement. With each step he took, more skin turned raw. Or, well, that’s what felt like was happening.
My hair kissed my cleavage, which was so expertly placed by my acquaintances. My dress was tight against my ribs. Little breaths were all I could manage. The club was not what I expected. The walls were white, or glass. The bar was made of bricks, the bartender fit in with his manbun and beard. He handed me bourbon on the rocks. A hipster club.
Bodies writhed like snakes on the dancefloor, you couldn’t tell where one started and one stopped. Males tried to seduce while females held their hands in the air and felt the vibrations. The DJ was in the dark, while the dials on his mixer glowed. No one knew who he was, but he loved bass. The pounding shook my organs, flipping them around like fish. Just like my nerves. I lost my friends.
I was alone. With only my drink, and the look of worry on my face, they had my belongings. Warmth seeped into my side from a hand, that lead to an arm, then a body, then a face. A male’s face. An attractive male’s face.
“Do you need a new drink?”
My eyes traveled to the empty cup in my hand.
“Yes.”
“Can I get you one?”
“No, I’m okay.”
I turned to walk away, deeper into the crowd of people when I heard a noise. A growl.
“Please, can I get you a drink?”
I decided not to fight him. “Fine. Sure. Whatever.”
The drink was blue. Manbun twirled it in front of me. “Have fun,” he said. I didn’t question. The drink-buyer walked away once I took a sip. Strong blue raspberry struck my tasebuds and I recoiled. Gross. I tipped it back and asked for another.
The DJ smiled, it made a crescent moon, like the Cheshire cat. In the dark. How does that work?
My mind started to spin, people started to move faster. My body couldn’t move anymore. I needed to stop, I needed air. The exit was close by, I stumbled to it. My friends were on the other side. I got excited. I started to run. I went to reach the handle but my hand went through it.
Where’s the handle? Glass wall was in front of me. My friends were in front of me, talking. Not looking at me. I hit the glass to get their attention. Maybe it was soundproof? The music got louder, harsher. He started to scratch his records and make me jump.
The snakes started to slither up to me, pulling me back to the dancefloor, making me swallow more blue, making me kick the air, making my body dance. I wanted out but there was no exit. There was no exit. There was no exit. There was no exit. There was noo exitre notr oness itggn thwer g wherolw cujfikrs
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My head slammed against my table. I was in my living room, sprawled under the coffee table. A jumbo unfrozen blue freezie was beside me with little empty Ziploc baggies asleep beside it. Fuck LSD.
