Angel Bones

1. Blood ties.

The piercing shriek of an electronic monstrosity shredded my dream like wet paper. Dawn was rising, sending colours cascading around the room like drugged up rainbows. The curtains were closed but that didn't stop the sun from peeking through the gaps and shining into my tired eyes.

I don't want to get up. Somebody close the fucking curtains.

As if hearing my inner protests the alarm screamed even louder, making me wince. I reached out behind me and grabbed the first thing I could feel. I didn't stop to look but instead hurled the object at the alarm. It hit something and a glasslike crash sounded through the room.

Shit. No, no, no. I really don't want that to be what I think it was.

I dragged myself up and turned on my side to look at whatever had broken. A book had been thrown at the wall, smashed a vase and was now lying in a pool of multicoloured shards. The alarm was untouched. I flopped back down onto bed and kicked the covers off.

The air was cold and I hissed out in discomfort as I struggled to get my work clothes on. A discarded skirt wrapped around my leg and a plain black bra attacked my back. My foot caught my skirt, I slid across my carpeted floor and landed in a pile of boxes. A heavy picture frame hit my exposed head and tumbled down my chest, the edges poked and stabbed my legs as it fell.

Ow fuck, that's going to leave a mark. Lucky that I'm not bleeding though.

My thin fingers ran through my unbrushed hair and pulled out a few dark strands. I shook off the clinging pieces and grabbed a hair band, pulling my hair up into a messy ponytail. I grimaced as I noticed that my mouth tasted awful, like burnt chocolate and strawberry vodka.

I spat out mysterious shreds of pink jelly and so wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Treading carefully over discarded bottles and other rubbish alike I finally made my way to the bathroom. As I brushed my teeth I realised that the bathroom was the only thing still intact. Turning around, a few groggy party goers were still drinking, how they did it I have no idea.

I finished getting dressed and went downstairs, evicting hungover teens as I went. I came into the kitchen where most of the party happened, the fridge was open and food spilled everywhere. Empty alcohol bottles rolled about as a cold wind blew through a wide open window. A lonely pizza box, still half full, was lying on the counter amidst other food wrappers and beer cans. I fished out a piece and gave it an experimental sniff, not too bad, it'll do for a quick breakfast. Provided that I leave quickly.

When I reached the door I stumbled over a half naked couple that was wrapped around each other. It would've been cute if the girl hadn't had dried puke round her mouth and the guy wasn't drooling. Gently nudging the girl away from the door I spied a lemonade can that was still closed.

Yes! No more alcohol for me today, I got lemonade!

I unlatched the lock and opened the door, sunlight spilled inside and glanced off glass and mirrors into disorientated teens, still drunk and stoned. They shouted at me to shut the damn door, I stepped down on the steps and slammed the door for good measure. I heard the groans of discomfort from inside.

Straightening my clothes, I tried to tame my hair to look more respectable. My phone rang, a high pitched jingle, I couldn't get the thing to stop, so I walked down the road. As it finally finished with its stupid death call I prised the phone out of my right pocket.

Missed call from Grace. One new voicemail. Call now at your normal call rate. Message duration 35 seconds.

I snorted, I can't be bothered with this at this time in the morning. I shoved my phone back into my pocket as I rounded the corner to work. The place was still standing, after all those years in this small dilapidated town. Tinted windows covered one wall and the other was painted with pictures of bleeding roses and grinning crucifixes. An arch painted black framed an alabaster door, complete contrast that perfectly reflected the nature of the club. Pounding music still blared from speakers inside the building, and neon colours flashed, illuminating the sign: