Esmerelda the Flower

Chapter 27: Chrisfopher

Flashback

Trigger Warning: SA

Booze spilt all over the floor, people making out in every corner of the house, the cops already getting calls about noise complaints.

This was the life.

I landed another ball into a cup playing beer pong. My friends cheered as my opponent downed another cup, already tipsy.

"Let's go Bates!" Brandon cheered me on while holding his third girlfriend of the week in his arms. I smiled, loving the attention of the crowd as I landed the ball into the final cup. An uproar of cheers as my friends wrapped their arm around my neck, swarming around me like a king.

In a way I was. I was the head of our fraternity. And by nature I was the most loved guy out there. Our fraternity threw the best parties every weekend, students lining up every time to see if they had a chance of getting in.

After the game I decided to scope out the rest of the party, noticing the nods of approval and the stare from all the girls as I walked through the house. Now that I didn't have to be sober to win beer pong, I could get fucked up.

I went over to the cooler, and grabbed a beer. Drinking it as my mind was flooded with thoughts. Although it was a party I still couldn't forget about all the duties I had. Club meetings, internships, organizing my frat. Just a whole load of shit, all thanks to my mother.

She had a way of pushing me to perfection. Although  I guess since  my parents were funding my education, who was I to complain? But that day, I was particularly stressed even though I was good at hiding it.

I drank another beer, another friend came up to me and patted me on the back as he reached into the cooler and went off.

"Typical," I thought to myself. "Everyone acknowledges me for who I am but nobody really cares. No one can ask, "hey Christopher why the fuck are you downing beers so quickly. Why do you stretch yourself out to do everything. Why have you been crying yourself to sleep every night when no one hears ?""

I scoffed, "this isn't strong enough," I thought to myself as I went upstairs to get a stronger drink.

I sat on my bed, drinking vodka straight from the bottle. My alcohol tolerance was high, and I needed something to numb my pains.

If was honest I hated my life. I hated being in a fraternity. I hated my responsibilities . I hated my major. I hated my mother. My whole life was a lie, everything I was doing wasn't who I was. This shit, these crap parties I threw every weekend I couldn't give less of a fuck. And I didn't understand why, some people would easily trade their lives for mines so what was my deal?

I drowned my thoughts out with more alcohol. I was fucked out of my mind. I couldn't get up, I was too tipsy so I laid back on my bed. My eyes flickering open and shut.

I heard the door open. A girls voice calling out to me.

"Chris, you didn't call me back last week?"

"Huh?" I groaned, titling my head up to see that it  was a girl that I had definitely hooked up with but my head throbbed too much to remember her name.

She sauntered closer to me, sitting down next to me as I turned my head towards her.

"Yeah I definitely banged her," I thought to myself as I looked at her. She was wearing a short black dress, her lips pink and her long dirty blonde hair framing her face.

"You're totally wasted," she simply stated, smiling at me.

"Hmmph," I groaned in agreement, still drunk out of my mind. She scooted closer to me, feeling my thighs.

"You're so hot Christopher."

Her hand got closer and closer to my groin. I was confused at first, no girl had ever been as bold as she was with me, but I definitely wasn't in the mood tonight.

"Cut it out," I said.

"Come on let's have fun ," she said as she continued to pursue me, her hands trying to unzip my pants.

I mentally sobered up, standing up quickly as I wobbled a little bit, "I said cut it out. I'm not in the fucking mood."

She looked annoyed, "oh come on. You guys are  always in the mood. Now let me make you feel good." And started to push up against me, I tried to resist but she chuckled, "you're so drunk Christopher. Just relax, 'Kay?"

My heart started go beat rapidly. "Holy shit, am I about to get raped?" I thought to myself as she pushed me up against the wall, her hands rubbing me.

"I said get off!" I pushed her away from me harshly. She seemed embarrassed and then her face turned angry.

"Oh come on! You were all over me last week and now this? You jerk!" She pushed me against the wall. I banged my head, "fuck." I groaned out as she came up to me again shoved me once more.

I started to get angry, although I was physically stronger than her I was tipsy and she was taking advantage of that. I had to get downstairs so I tried to walk past her but she pushed me again.

"No! You aren't going anywhere. No guy, and I mean no guy is gonna fuck me and then not call!"

She was coming to shove me again, this time I reacted and pushed her aside, not wanting to be knocked down again. Although I didn't hit her that hard she was knocked back and stumbled over a crack in the wood floor of the house. There was a window next to her as gravity pushed her down, her back crashing into the window.

"Holy shit!" I said as I wobbled over to the window, her body landing in a secluded bush behind the house that nobody would see.

"Fuck, fuck!" I said while pulling my hair. I didn't know what to do. I never intended for her to fly out the window. I broke down, drunk and crying on the floor like a baby when I decided to call my mom.

"What is it Christopher?" She answered coldly.

"Mom?" I sobbed. She seemed to soften up because she asked, "what. What happened darling?"

I explained what happened, sniffling as I finished the story.

"Well fuck Christopher!" She shouted, "maybe if you would've let the damn woman got what she wanted this wouldn't have happened. Now, I want you to go downstairs and rejoin the party okay, I'm going to make this go away."

And she did. She somehow made it all go away. It was my senior year of college. After that I stopped drinking heavily. I started to work on myself, finding out my passions and that's when I got my idea for MitoBeta.

I told all of this to Esme that night my mother was killed in a car accident. She didn't say much, but held me. That said a lot.