Romeo, Remember Me

In which I fall for a cliché line

A note from a very slightly delighted author:

Thank you so much for reading! Comments are fantastic, particularly crit (I'm working on it!!), keep reading and I'd also love some votes ;)

Enjoy!

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BANG! BANG!

The first thing that came to mind was the idea that someone may be shooting me in the head. It genuinely hurt that much. I scrunched up my eyes and grumbled, before wearily lifting their heavy lids, which in itself felt painful. My vision blurred and my speech slurred as I opened my mouth (which tasted like something had died in it) to say, "Where am I?" My throat was dry and my voice came out a hoarse whisper.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

Okay, so nobody was shooting me, but my head was still spinning.

"SHIT!" Someone screamed, very close to my ear, making me jolt bolt upright with a sharp squeal of terror. I bet I sounded like a pig.

"WHAT THE H-!" My voice clawed at my throat and didn't sound dissimilar to nails scraping down a blackboard. Before I could finish my outcry, my voice cut out altogether. Just about everything hurt, even my eyeballs as I raised them to the room around me.

Skye was draped over the sofa like a ragdoll, lying on her back and snoring loudly. Then I noticed a bedraggled and panic-stricken Phil, standing in the doorway on the other side of the room. He looked very torn, and excruciatingly worried. I cleared my throat, although it sounded more like a cat choking. Phil looked in my direction and his face began to grow redder.

"What's going on?" I moaned, shortly followed by another BANG! BANG!

"Mum's home," He stated bluntly, the blood gradually draining from his face until it was chalk-white beneath his tan. My eyes widened in realisation, although I wasn't entirely sure of what I was realising yet. I wracked my brain, shuffling through my muffled memory for the moment when someone told me whose house and whose party I attended last night. I just couldn't find one, so I decided that now was the time to make one.

"This is your house?" I croaked stupidly, gesturing to the almost empty room. He nodded with an audible gulp.

That was when the problem hit me. The floor was littered with bottles and cans, all of a varying degree of empty. I was also quite sure that those stains hadn't been there the night before, on the perfect cream carpet. Books, DVDs and various other items had been knocked off of the shelves and lay crumpled and discarded in corners. I could only imagine what the rest of the house looked like.

"What can I do?" I asked quietly so as not to hurt my agonising head.

"Just get out - sorry I don't mean - I mean, I do, I just-" He stopped to unscramble his words with a sigh, "Don't worry. Just take Skye and scram, and I'll sort this out. I don't want you getting in trouble too. Oh my God I can't believe I let this happen!" I nodded, then crawled over to the sofa, and used it to help me stand up.

"Skye," I murmured, shaking her shoulder gently, "Wake up, hun, we've got to go." The redhead didn't move, although her forehead creased a little, and she began to grumble something incoherent under her breath. I gave up the calm, quiet approach. I leant my head down to the sleeping girl's ear and cleared my throat. Nothing happened.

"SKYE! GET UP NOW!" I screeched, and was promptly hit hard in the forehead, causing me to collapse back to the floor.

"WHY?" Skye yelled, arms flailing all over the place and whacking me in the stomach just as I tried to scramble up again. I buckled over in pain, only to have an elbow collide with my nose. I clutched my face, yelling.