Restricted II H.S

Chapter 6

A loud beeping noise erupts though out my eardrums as I look up and see nothing but light streaming its way through my closed eye lids. Squinting my eyes shut doesn't help as I still see a colourful pattern of pink expressing itself on my eyelid. My head is spinning as I lay there limp less and lifeless trying not to move.

My bones are sore and my neck feels as if it could snap off if I were to move it in any direction.

I can smell a thick scent of vomit and feel it engulfing the top half of my body where I lay. The bitter taste lays on my tongue.

Surprisingly I have had worse hang overs and thank god that I know how to nurse them, I do not want to repeat some of my previous experiences.

The hangovers don't win over the fun though, the feeling of drinking and being loose. Honestly I feel sorry for people who don't drink, they wake up in the morning and that is the best they are going to feel the whole day.

I know that I have to get home though, I hate staying too long in the morning at these parties because eventually everyone wakes up; cranky, boring and most importantly sober. I have been stuck in past situations where they make anyone left in the house clean up with them and I will not be around when that happens.

Slowly tilting my body upwards so I am in a sitting position, my head pounds against my skull even harder and my hair falls down my back in thick wet strands covered in shit.

Groans of pain stifle their way out of my sealed lips as I open my eyes and feel the light burn my pupils. Squinting, I sit there and recover from the movement I had just done.

I don't know how long ticks by until I decide to raise my body to stand on my feet and hunch over the sink.

My head dips under the tap as I turn the cool water on. I can feel the cold flow break vomit from my hair and wash it away down the sink.

Turning the water off I squeeze the last droplets from my hair onto the tiled floor and open the bathroom door.

Slowly taking one step at a time, I hold my heels in my hands as I would definitely fall down the stairs if I were still wearing them.

My head faces down to stare at each step I take so that I don't fall over or increase my headache by looking around too much.

My body then collides with someone else's that seems to be walking up the stairs at quite a quick pace.

My head spins widely as my eyes flair open. I cry out a wail of pain and clutch the side railing.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry" the voice of the person that bumped into me exclaims.

"Watch where you’re fucking going you prick" I spit while bringing my gaze upwards to engage eye contact.

My eyes meet the soft face of Sophie who seems to be standing there with a very worried look on her face.

I honestly thought that she walked home when I poured the liquor onto her head. I can't remember very much of last night, in fact all of it is a blur. Except for the memory of pouring alcohol over Sophie's head, and watching her run away through the crowd of people.

Sophie doesn't resume any further in speaking so I take the opportunity.

"Can you drive?" I ask aggressively and look her body up and down. Only now do I notice that she doesn't look like a pile of shit like I probably do, she looks untouched.

Still hanging off of her body is a parachute and that hideous shirt.

Did she even sleep? Of course she did, she had too. Where though?