How it came to this

The Blackout

Chapter 4: Age 16 2010 6 months ago

I am whisked back into my body. My face is sticky with blood that had pooled out of me during the visit. Groggily, I lift myself up to notice the puddle I had left on my bed. The army green sheets are flooded.

I'm sure it looks worse that it is. I feel drugged as I head to my bathroom. My face has a nice coating of the substance running down my face and onto my neck. I run the water, grab a rag from under the sink, and begin scrubbing away the gunk. The bathroom sink looks like it belongs in the miniseries It.

My stomach convulses and despite my waterlogged legs I scramble to the toilet and vomit. The bile is foul on my tongue mixing with the taste of pennies. I had not ate much to begin with and begin to dry heave.

I feel weak. The weakest this power has ever made me. When I am done, I head back to my bed and remove my black comforter along with the sheets to find a large red stain on my mattress.

"Shit." I mutter and realize I forgot to look at the time.

11:20 p,m. Glares at me from across the room. "How?" I say dumbfounded. Counting how long it took me to clean myself and upchuck I realize I had only been gone a couple minutes.

I go to my closet and pull out clean, unfortunately pink, sheets and toss them on the bed. But my powers seem to have a mind of their own. The world beneath me is falling away and with it I am away from my body again.

I am slammed into a more recent memory. The house is not mine but Robbie's house where music blares so loud that it shakes the walls and takes my heartbeat with it.

A bottle of pineapple rum is in my hands and unopened. I am in Robbie's room. I hear too many people for my liking downstairs yelling and giggling. I had gone to this party only out of sheer curiosity as Robbie had promised booze. I do not remember much after I downed half the bottle which I recall was foul and burned my throat and stomach. Now, I was going to have to go through this again. I realize that this was before I had cut my hair and dyed it.

The ac in the window is running keeping me cool and comfortable.

Robbie's room is unnaturally tidy for someone like him. I remind myself that I do not really know Robbie and thus should not think of him as just your typical stoner.

Poster's of Seether, Staind, Evanescence, Three days grace, and Breaking Benjamin line his white walls. A tank upon his dresser holds a tarantula I vaguely remember him telling me about.

Even his bed is made. Navy blue comforter and pillows. His books for school sit on a nightstand by his bed.

Does Robbie actually study?

Perhaps I have been unfair to this boy.

With that thought I realize I am about to take a whiff of the bottle. I unscrew the cap and bring it to my nose. And immediately upset my stomach. I gag and for the second time which I had not smelt it.

I take a deep breath and begin to chug. Really chug it down, knowing that the faster I did it the faster it would get into my system the faster I may start to feel....something.

I have seen plenty of people drunk before, the slurred speech, the dizzy walking, but most importantly, I have seen the happy drunk. Oh, what I would not give to feel that.

As I sit on the floor I stare into the bottle. I know now that I have drunk more than enough, too much, but I can see myself contemplating taking another chug.