Oh, How We Drift

Chapter Five

5.

It was early in the morning when Jules jerked awake from her nightmare. She tossed and turned in bed, trying her hardest to wrap the sheets tight around herself, but to no avail. She cast the blanket aside and rolled over, checking the time; 6:17am in big, bold, red digits stared back at her from the digital clockface. 'Dammit', she thought to herself, and sat up in bed, her pyjama top hanging loosely from her shoulders. She yawned, stretched and stood up out of bed, her foot stepping on the upturned face of a plug. A sharp pain travelled up her leg, 'Ah, Shit!' she shouted, falling back onto the mattress. She held her foot up in the dim light, expecting to see sharp red markings, but not a scratch had been made; she shrugged, kicked the plug to one side and started to dress herself.

It was 7:15 by the time Jules eventually left her small university flat. She lived in a massive complex of tall buildings, shared houses and courtyard spaces. Not a night went by where there wasn't a party in one of the nearby buildings, or where she'd smell the tell-tale burning scent of cannabis from a nearby open window.

Students were an interesting breed; averaging in age from eighteen to twenty-five, you'd never tell from the way they behaved. At night, adolescent males high on the fumes of nicotine and the intake of alcohol would swing from the lampposts, screeching mating calls and beating their chests (and sometimes eachother). The females would follow in suit, linking arms to form an unstoppable parade of skirts, high heels and attitude, hissing replies at screaming males as they made their way to the local drinking hole. At home, the dishes stacked high and the interior of flats was turned into an urban wilderness, strewn with half eaten ready meals, empty bottles of alcohol and cigarettes, clothes lay where they fell from the night before, to be washed in three weeks time. The jungle of university was a wild, dangerous and intimidating place to strangers; it would sooner eat you up and spit you out than welcome you with open arms.

Jules hated this. Her few friends at university were fairly quiet and reserved, preferring a seat in the back room of an outskirt pub to the dance floor of the biggest night club of the town. Most nights she was content to sit on her bed in baggy pyjama shorts, a blanket thrown around her shoulders, a glass of stiff whiskey in her hand and music playing softly as the moon danced across the night sky. Eventually her eyes would flicker shut and she'd throw her head back on her pillow, not so much going to sleep as passing out.

Last night had been one of those nights, her alarm waking her from her deep sleep after only a few hours of precious dreaming time. As she locked the door of her flat behind her the fresh morning air hit her like a tonne of bricks, knocking her reeling in her early day hangover. She trudged down the road towards class, dragging her feet along the pavement; the sky was overcast with dark grey clouds and the threat of rain, there was no wind however, so the clouds just sat stationary in the sky waiting for the next gust to blow them on to their final destination.

Jules had plugged her headphones into her ears and shut out the world outside, the beat of the music aiding her slow walk. 7:30, her lecture started at 7:45, she was going to be late. She quickened her pace slightly, maybe the professor wouldn't notice if she slipped in five minutes after, it wasn't a huge space of time after all. Cars zipped past her on the road, blasting air around her as they sped onwards. Suddenly her music was drowned out by the sound of passing sirens. A police car, quickly followed by an ambulance, zoomed past her on the right at light speed, turning to the left just up the road. Jules followed unintentionally, turning the corner to cut through town and take time off her journey to class. What awaited round the corner was something she would not soon forget.

The police car had parked in the middle of the road, blocking any traffic that might turn the corner after them, the ambulance lay a little ahead, the blue lights flashing on and off, the siren now turned silent. In front of the ambulance was a car, adorned with a huge dent in the side of the front passenger door, shattered glass lay on the floor along with other debris from the crash. Next to the dented car lay a motorcycle, smashed so badly that the chassis had nearly broken in two, oil spilled from the body of the bike onto the road, the crash must have happened minutes ago, just before Jules arrived. As she walked closer she saw a visibly shaken man sitting on the curb of the road, his head in his hands as he rocked back and forth. He was wearing a suit and tie, now that Jules was closer she could see small specks of blood staining the white cloth.