It Started with a Party

Chapter 1

It was the loud thumping of the bass from the stereo that woke me up that night. What the hell? Slowly lifting open my eyes, the first thing I tried to search for was my digital clock that stated the ungodly hour it was. There, found it.

3:14 AM                 

Seriously? What was going on? I listened further and realized that the noises coming downstairs vaguely resembled those of what you might hear at a—

Are you kidding me? What the hell was my brother doing, hosting a party at 3:14 on a Saturday morning?

Groaning heavily, I rolled over and attempted to shut out the noise with my pillow, but no such luck. I could still very much feel the bass as it shook the bed. Nevermind the bed, it shook the entire goddamn house. Realizing that there was no way I was going to get any sleep while that satanic noise was still going on, I sat up. The noises from the party became much more audible; the music, of course, but also the chattering and squealing of what seemed to be a whole swarm of people. Jesus, just how many people did my brother invite?

As I sat there, I debated on what to do—

Wait it out in my room or go downstairs and survey the damage?

Although the former seemed very tempting, I couldn’t deny that I was a little bit curious as to what the party was like. Even though my brother had hosted parties in the past, I never participated in them; he always warned me in advance so I could make plans to sleepover at a friend’s house when they happened. This time, I obviously wasn’t so fortunate, especially considering my jerk brother didn’t even bother to tell me about it for some odd reason. Sighing, I finally decided that I’d go down, but only to find my brother so I could chew him out. And if I embarrassed him in front of all his friends then hey, all the better.

I stood up and put on the jeans I’d left on the floor. I wondered if I should change my tank top but  decided I honestly didn’t care. I did, however, make sure my hair at least looked presentable—I had enough dignity to not want to go down there looking like Chewbacca.

After checking myself in the mirror until I found that I was satisfied with my appearance, I slowly walked over to the door. Taking a deep breath, I braced myself before unlocking the door and pulling it open.

Here we go.

Of course, the first sight I met was that of a couple heavily making out along the wall opposite my door. “Making out” was actually a nice way of putting it—gnawing each other’s faces off seemed to be the more accurate term. Neither of the two seemed to either acknowledge or care for my existence though as they continued with the grotesque display. If anything, their “affections” only got heavier.

Making a sound of disgust, I muttered, “Get a room!” Thinking about it afterward, however, I added, “not mine though.”

Now paranoid by the thought, I hurriedly turned around and locked the door with the key I kept on a chain around my neck. Thank God I’d asked for a lock for my door rather than an iPhone for Christmas last year; I knew it would be worth it in the end. After double-checking that my door was in fact locked, I turned, making sure I avoided the couple making out—although it didn’t do much, considering I could hear the girl’s ridiculous moans. Shuddering, I quickly made my way down the hall.

Instantly, the noise of the party got louder, and the number of people I came across steadily increased. I gingerly stepped over and around people either passed out or sitting there smoking cigarettes and weed. I couldn’t help it when hacking coughs escaped me as I passed them, the fumes too heavy and disgusting for my sensitive nose.