"It's day 10, Isla. I wish you would wake up. I've lost everything and you're the only person who understands."
Bradley Monse used to have everything. He was the star basketball player. He dated the most popular girl. He had good grades and friends...
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That night was a blur. Like when you spill water on a crayon drawing. All the colours fade together, they intermix, leaving you with a brown puddle. You can't individually distinguish them anymore.
That's what it felt like. That night. My memory could only grasp onto one event. The crash. The rest of it had slowly trickled away from me like those colours slowly dripping down the page.
The sky. I remember looking at the deep sunset arising in the sky; the waxy yellows and oranges of light armwrestling the murky muddy darkness. Eventually, the latter overcame the prior.
I remember walking into a party. I don't remember whose party it was or why I was even there. All I remember was that the music was loud and sending vibrations down my spine and the feeling of nausea I felt when I entered.
There was a girl with me- Nicole. I remember hearing the clatter of her six inch stilettos against the floor tiles. After crawling and squeezing through bodies, we slumped down with a few other jock-cheerleader couples, made conversation, had a few beers. I had looked down at the frothy liquid brimming in the red cup I'd been handed.
Keep it to a minimum, I thought to myself. I had a scheduled meeting with Philadelphia State College regarding a basketball scholarship the next day. Internally, I had promised myself that I would hold myself together; not get intoxicated. Turns out, I'm not very good at keeping promises.
So, like all the other times, the alcohol corrupted me.
It was like a drug. Addictive. More-ish. This is the last one, I kept coaxing myself, waddling around like a drunken oaf trying to refill my empty cup. I probably had about ten 'last ones.' I think Jared told me to stop; stop drinking. If only I could...
Eventually, the party had died down. I had lost Nicole earlier in the busy haze of party-goers, and most people were either knocked-out in a dark corner of the room or upstairs. You have to believe me, I tried to hitch a ride. But, it was dark, my head throbbed and burned as if it had caught on a wildfire and I had lost my phone to the dirty dark floor. As I waddled around, searching for the phone one last time by groping around on the floor, I saw Jared.
"Need a ride, Bradley?" He asked, and I noticed even his voice being a little slurred.
I nodded and I was surprised my drunken self was able to identify what he was saying.
"I'll be right back. One second." He said, turning towards the kitchen. He had left his car keys on the table beside him in his rush.
Then, I possibly made the stupidest, most irrational decision of my life. If I could turn back time, I would have never come to the party, never got drunk, but especially never ever picked up Jared's car keys.
