Ronnie's Songs (Completed) #Wattys2017

XX - Fall

Why don't we just fall? And for the first time, just fall... Why did we wait so long?

Is it even bloody likely to get a hangover because of wine? Because I certainly do have one.

"Good gracious!" I muttered as I struggled to sit up on the bed.

I feel so dizzy, I can barely get up.

Three knocks. Three knocks was all it took for me to really get up, because I knew it was my Mum. You know when you've memorised the people around you that you know how the sound of their breathing is, the scratching sound of their feet on the floor, and stuff like that? In my case, I've memorised the sound of my Mum's movements.

"Veronica, dear. Happy birthday! Do try your best to get up. We're going Christmas shopping, and today's your birthday," she said from outside the door. Her voice was slightly muffled, but I understood it anyway. "We can't have a birthday celebration without the celebrant," she even teased.

"Yeah, give me a minute, Mum!" I yelled, so she could hear me clearly.

I made my way into the bathroom, and rummaged through the cupboards if there was something I could drink to lessen the nausea I was feeling. Luckily, there was. Mum always said that it was bad to drink medicine without eating first, but I took one anyway.

I hurried down the stairs when I checked my watch and saw that it was almost noon. Did I sleep that much?

"Good morning, dear," Dad greeted me as soon as I sat at the dining table. "Happy birthday," he said, and then he hugged me.

"Thanks, Dad," I said, smiling genuinely.

"Here," said Dad, then he handed me a small envelope containing...

"Tickets?" I asked, a little bit hopeful as I tore it open.

Dad just made a small nod, a gesture suggesting that if I wanted to know, I should go on and open the small package.

"Europe..." I silently muttered. "You gave me plane tickets for a European tour?!" I exclaimed as my jaw started to drop slowly towards the floor. "Gaaaah! Thanks, Dad!"

"It was your Mum's idea," said my Dad, and then he shrugged as he added, "I paid."

I chuckled when he said he paid. Of course, he paid. How else would my Mum push through with her idea of me travelling alone in Europe?

"Thank you! Thank you!" I repeated, as I showered him with kisses.

"All right. You can stop now, dear," he said, a bit annoyed but still happy.

Instantly, I felt like my head had come back to its pre-nausea condition until...

"Good morning, Mr. Wallace," said a voice from behind, and I almost broke my neck with how quick I turned to identify the owner of the oh-so-familiar voice.

Do you know how they all say that alcohol makes people forget things?

I would never drink alcohol anymore--wine, vodka, lager... just about anything that contains alcohol.

Why?

Because they were so wrong!

I remember watching movies and reading books where people who drink alcohol forgets all the stupid things they've done when they get drunk. They couldn't be more inaccurate, because I remember everything--from walking with just socks on my feet, to watching the sunset, to spilling out all that I've been trying so hard to keep from Tom... to kissing him. It suddenly made me feel like I was that friend people bring into parties and then would later regret bringing, because when everybody else gets drunk, in the morning I would be the one amusingly narrating how all of the stupid things went down, even if I was also wasted as hell. Then everyone would contemplate whether I have mind powers or something, for me to remember things even in a drunken stupor.