Shots

“Anything can happen. Anything happens all the time.” -Rose Byrne

One. Two. Three…

I knock back the harsh liquid and gulp, hissing from the sting of alcohol. I am just getting started. With a wave of my hand, I beckon for another.

Four. Five…

Things are getting fuzzy, my sight blurring in and out of focus. I let out a deep sigh, lean my head back, and smile with relief. After the excruciatingly long week I’ve had, I deserve this one night to kick back. I don’t even worry about fixing my top that hangs loosely off one shoulder. Instead, I laugh along with the guys playing beer pong on the table in front of me.

Six…

People cheer for me. Apparently, everyone is impressed by how many shots I can hold back. Standing up with the support of my new friends and a smirk of victory, I haphazardly shuffle my feet to the bathroom, placing my hands on either side of the sink. I just stare at myself in the mirror. As my eyesight comes back to me, I gauge the damage based on my features. My pupils are dilated. My skin looks clammy. My hair is disheveled around my shoulders. I’m fine. My tolerance is fairly high. Honestly, I could take a few more and it wouldn’t hurt, right?

I scoff at myself for being so damn cautious. I have nothing to worry about. Stumbling out of the bathroom, I giggle to myself as I sit back down on the couch. What a great party, I needed this. With what little eyesight I can control, I look around me and smile at the hectic but relaxed scene. I feel someone sit down beside me and put their arm around my shoulders. I’m too numb to care who it is or why they are doing it.

I feel his warm breath near my neck. His lips barely brush my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. He’s whispering something but I can’t understand him over the loud laughter and music. I watch with fluttering eyes as he slides two more shots of alcohol in front of me.

Seven. Eight…

He hands me a water and asks if I’m okay. Eyes betray his supposedly good intentions, the blue irises darkening to nearly pitch black, like a wolf stalking its prey. Leading me from the room, he practically has to carry my quickly crumbling figure. Pulling my hand, he drags me into another room off to the side, I’ve never been here before.

                My vision swirls again, my eyelids drop over my eyes and I can’t control it. Everyone carries on with their partying, and no one notices when he shuts the door.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s