Hasn't anyone ever told you not to Blink?
Blink and you're dead.
Blink and you're forgotten.
Don't Blink.
You've been warned. Good Luck
x x x x x x x
Meet Tunbridge College's walking mystery. A girl named Blink who eats candy to quell her smoking u...
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Waking up stomach-down, with your face stuffed so hard into the carpet beneath you that you have a semi-permanent imprint on your face doesn't feel too good.
Blink was thrown into a world of consciousness and utter pain when she startled awake that same morning. From the area of the floor that she occupied, she could clearly read that the electronic alarm clock on the nightstand showed 10:37AM.
She tried to remember something— anything from the night before and yet her fuzzy thoughts were just as tangled and unsalvageable as the locks spiraling around her head were.
Leaning up onto her elbows, she raised her hand to wipe the corners of her pasty lips with the back of her wrist. Licking her lips to momentarily satisfy their thirst, she could clearly taste the remnants of bourbon and winced when her emerald orbs settled on nothing familiar.
She at least remembered that her fun night ended with a comfortable king sized bed in Tyler's friend's room, so where exactly was she now? Then her thoughts hit her like a brick.
Tyler!
Snapping up so that she could really take a look around, she ignored the awful pounding of her head that she had suffered so many times before when drinking herself nearly dead with Rellik. She was on a wide stretch of carpet between a large ensuite bathroom and the bed on the other side of the room. The crisp white sheets were perfectly made and not a wrinkle was seen, letting her know that she hadn't even made it to the bed.
She wasn't really the type of girl to puke up her liquor, but her short distance from the bathroom door where the immaculate white tiles began told her that she'd probably emptied her stomach a few times. Sore abdominal muscles, a raw throat, and the acrid taste in her mouth furthered her theory.
Tyler's chocolate locks and warm hazel eyes were no where in sight and finally the panic began to set in. Using her hands to push herself up to her feet, she wiggled her sock covered toes at her lack of shoes.
Her eyebrows furrowed. She knew she was definitely wearing her combat boots last night. She didn't remember taking them off either and even if she had, the scuffed black boots weren't in the same room as her.
There was not a single trace of evidence that told her why she was in the room that she was. It was if she'd been laying on the bed with Tyler and had been transported to the floor in some random room in the next second.
She didn't hear anything left of the party. There was no more music playing and there weren't any random voices or bumping against the wall.
"Merry fucking Christmas" Blink chuckled to herself, wincing immediately at the jolting ache of her temples.
Striding into the bathroom with bad coordination from the liquid courage still swirling through her poor veins, she quickly washed her face with cool water, ushering a handful of the freezing water into her mouth before she scouted a few aspirin pills from the cabinet behind the mirror.
