Evelyn's Pendant

1.

All of us come to hardships at some point in our lives.

It is what makes or breaks us for how we choose to deal with these things.

My name is Lillian Shaw,

and I blame myself for the death of my sister.

It is like the world around us ceases to exist. Nothing matters besides the beats of our hearts and the steps of our feet matching the tempo of the music. Oh, and of course, the drinks in our hands.

The feeling of escape is one that I was drawn to be addicted to.

There are probably over a hundred of us, jam-packed into this room. Slippery skin rubs against each other as the smell of alcohol and smoke fills our nostrils, but do we care? No. We are all there together, breathing it in as if it was pure and untouched. Everyone seems to have the same idea to escape their pitiful lives. Hard alcohol, good music, and maybe a hook-up, for those who want to get lucky. The bass coming from the DJ's booth shakes the place, its goal to shatter the ceiling and crush all of us. This is a place for escape - well, at least it is for me. This place is my home. My real house on the other hand... Well, I'd rather not think about where I actually live right now. The club is a place where I can run away from the complications of reality and swallow it down like a pill with a mouth-full of tequila, then worry about it in the morning, but for tonight... Tonight is all I want to focus on. I want to dance until my legs become numb and beg for a rest; I want to drink myself into a stupor. I just want to grab random people and kiss them. I want to not have a single care in the world - and in this moment, I do not.

"Lil, you've been at this for hours!" I hear the familiar voice of my best friend shouting in my ear, her voice drowning beneath the sound of blaring music coming from the DJ. "Are you going to take a break yet?" I turn around to face her. Her long brown hair has turned into a mess from dancing so much and her mascara mixed with sweat runs down the bags under her slender green eyes. "I'm exhausted!" Hannah puts her lips into a pout and fans herself with her hands.

I laugh at her pathetic way of trying to get me off the dancefloor. You could say I am the "Queen of the Discotheque," meaning - the only way I would stop dancing was either for a smoke, drink, piss, or if I was about to blackout.

"No way, it feels like we just got here!" I say back to her, not missing a single beat of the music. I throw my hands into the air and sway my hips, then grab Hannah's arms and try to get her to dance with me. She won't budge, she just lets me wave her arms through the stagnant air while giving me a blank stare as her flowing top shimmies to the movements. I let go of her arms and stop dancing. I smack my lips together and say, "Actually, now that you say something, I could use another drink."

She scoffs. "You could always use a drink."

"Hey," I put my hand up and face my palm at her and take a dramatic pause. "You're right! Now let's stop talking about it and go!" I throw my arms into the air, then run to the bar enthusiastically. I drag Hannah along with me to the crowded bar and we push our way through the people.

"What do you want?" I say, not breaking my gaze towards the various bottles of liquors mounted behind the bar.

She pauses for a couple of seconds. "Just order me a Diet Coke."

I twist my head so fast to face her and give her a contorted look. "What?" I hiss. "You've got to be kidding me, Han! We're at the hottest club in California and you're going to get a diet Coke? Let's get wasted!" I throw my hands above my head.

Hannah eyes those around us, afraid of my embarrassing ways. I personally don't care what others think of me. Hannah is just one of those people who does.