The Diary of a Party Girl

1/18/19

There was a rip on my fishnets, going down the left side of my leg, because of the way I tried to jump out of my bedroom window. When I wasn't paying attention, the fabric got snagged on something and tugged against the material. My skin was fine. When I saw I hadn't broken the surface or cause blood to draw, I did a mini victory lap inside my head. I wouldn't have to go back inside and change my clothes.

I was running late already.

Late for what, you may ask?

A warehouse party.

Back home in Texas, I could find out where a party was in a few minutes flat. I had a group of key people I knew I needed to contact to get the info from. California was different, though. Here in this new state, I didn't know a soul.

For that reason, I ventured on to the internet. Twitter to be exact. Today was a Friday, which meant there had to be a party going on somewhere. Luckily for me, I found one that was down Spring street.

My fear of being late was rooted in one reason - the wording on the flyer. In large black print, the words "GIRLS FREE BEFORE 10 PM" was written on the bottom half of the page. If I hadn't screwed up my winged eyeliner, desperately trying to get the tip right, then maybe I wouldn't be freaking out over lost time.

A whistle caused me to jerk my head around. I had to squint in order to make out the figure across the street from me. And when I did, my arms crossed my chest as I covered my plunging neckline. He was clearly amused by his free show.

"Come over here," he beckoned.

"I'm fine right where I am."

"Oh, don't be shy. How old are you?"

"I'm fifteen," I lied. Actually, I was two weeks away from my eighteenth birthday. "Leave me alone."

"You don't look that young. How old do you think I am?"

"I bet you're old enough to be considered a sexual predator. Be honest, how many mug shots do you have?"

"Hey," he cooed. 

"I can keep going."

He started walking off, disappearing once he turned the corner.

Adult men terrified me more than drugs did. 

Mom say I rushed going through my childhood too quickly to be an adult. What she failed to acknowledge was the one who forced me out of my innocence in the first place...was her. Due to this, I got used to saying I was an adult years before I actually got to grow into being one. 

This was the first time that I said I was younger than I really was. 

But it wouldn't be the last time I'd long to be that age again.