Who Did You Date Again?

Ugh

I threw my pillow at the wall. Why? No actual reason. I'm just incredibly impulsive and angry. I collapsed onto the floor besides my bed burring my face into my blue checkered comforter. I wanted to forget. My thoughts wouldn't shut up. They were like some sort of catchy, yet incredibly annoying tune constantly echoing in my mind. I couldn't shut them out. I screamed. That was it. I couldn't take it anymore. I needed anything, anything to rip me away from the prison which was my thoughts.

My parents were fighting right now and neither wanted to see each other which meant that neither of them had come home because they expected the other one to be at home. I didn't know what was wrong with them. They both hadn't called me. They expected me to give the phone to the other parent which they didn't want, so neither of them had called me. So I only having older no longer living in this state siblings was alone. 

I am also an incredibly jumpy person, so I happened to be awake at midnight in my bed room (which isn't that strange) with the lights on waiting for some kind of monster to jump out (okay maybe I am kind of weird). Whenever this had happened I was pretty much guaranteed not to go to bed until 6a.m. What could I do at midnight before the whole eyes wanting to close and me running through my list of greatest fears and things I want to forget kick in? 

I paused. There was a party. I was sure there was a party. I wasn't necessarily invited though... I had overheard about it thanks to my high level "eavesdropping" skills. Everyone would probably be too drunk to notice one extra. Of course I couldn't exactly show up in my fuzzy pajamas. Maybe a less fuzzy pair... I'm kidding. I grabbed one of my favorite dresses; a dress that's almost entirely black and works for every occasion, and tried my best to do my makeup. Of course I had to try to redo the liquid eyeliner about fifteen-thousand times, and it smudged everywhere and ugh, but I was ready to go. 

I threw on my black heeled ankle boots, and started my car. Where was this party at? The house of my ex-best friend. I mean she's actually a surprisingly decent person, but about a year or so after our "fight" (I do not mean a verbal fight. It was a full on slap fight) I realized that she was actually incredibly popular. 

About half of the people I hung out with in the "olden days" are now incrediblypopular. I happened to stick with the half that did not become popular. I did mind sometimes, but there were moments when everyone was so dorky that it was hilarious and I would lose all thoughts about going back. 

There were cars all around her incredibly huge three story house. I could already see people on one of the balconies dancing. I parked my car somewhat far away. Really as close as possible because these heels aren't completely broken in. I walked across her lawn thankful that it was perfect and my shoe didn't get caught on anything while witnessing someone puking into a plant pot. Just great. 

I opened the door which was unlocked to see a party in full swing. Some people were dancing, but others were passed out or making out. I didn't really know what to do. I hadn't exactly planned this far.

I went into her once familiar kitchen which now looked like it had been raided of all alcohol, and was covered in those famous red cups. I opened her wooden pantry grabbing an unopened container of buttercream icing. I went ahead and found a spoon exactly in the same spot where they were formerly kept. I then shoved a bunch of cups off a dry spot on the marble counter and sat on it eating icing out of the container. I watched people make complete fools of themselves. It was wonderful. That was until someone walked over. 

"Aye, why aren't you drinking?" A drunk guy slurred. He didn't look like the type I'd want to fight with. He was incredibly wide and also kind of tall, but mainly he probably had over 100lbs on me. He looked like he probably played sports. I did not play sports.