Survive The Night

Part 1

I slowly walked up the long steps leading to a glorious modern mansion. The pink and blue party lights from the inside flash loudly through the windows. And an over glamorized party song is bursting loudly, echoing outside. I look at the doorbell, suddenly realizing that it doesn't matter, so I open the door and walk in.

There's people reeking of alcohol dancing all over, with more alcohol in there hand. People on the couch making out, and maybe something a little more, and there's PLENTY of dirty dancing. Everyone looks like they're heading to a photoshoot for an instagram clothing line. I look down on my semi-new converse and the darkened white part. They seem cute to me, but probably ugly to others. I move my eyes over to my ripped mom jeans. They looked really good in the store, and when I was at Starbucks earlier. Maybe it's just not party attire. At least I decided to wear a pastel pink cropped top. There's an embodied word on shoulder. I think it says "Perfect", but to be honest, I forgot cursive. Oh well, it's not like I really need to know it anymore. 

I look around at all the over privileged kids dancing knowing no matter what happens tonight, they're still getting that new car tomorrow. Maybe I should find some drugs. The white girls have to have some, right? They probably can't even see straight right now. 

I walk over to the stairs and begin to go up, passing all the overly horny teenagers making out and feeling each other through their clothes. This house has so many rooms, go find one. 

Speaking of rooms, there's an empty one next to the right at the top of the stairs. I walk in, and it's neat. Too neat. It screams suburban mom decorating. I quietly look around for a "Live, Laugh, Love" sign, but I guess they were out at Pottery Barn. I eventually realize this is a guest room, which is good since I'm a guest, but I'm pretty sure whose ever parents own this house have no idea someone stranger would be in here right now. 

I flop down on the bed, and look up at the ceiling. I hope to find glow in the dark stars, but I just find disappointment. It's literally white. 

The window next to me is wide open and that summertime breeze comes rushing in filling me with ecstasy. It's one of my most loved feelings. It's a high that drugs can't give me. It's love that I can only wish of finding. I wonder if this comes off as weird. 

It feels as if the music downstairs is only get louder. My mind wonders if I should close the door, but I quickly realize it won't help much. The only reason I go to these parties is to see if some rich bitch is gonna snap and kill someone. So far, I've had no luck with witnessing that. I also find the occasional rich guy to give me like 500 dollars to do stuff with him. I don't mind it, but I also don't know why I do it. I don't need money. I have a larger trust fund than the average annual salary. 

SMACK! I quickly bounce up off the bed to notice the window had slam shut. I jerk my head in all directions to see if someone was in the room. Then I press my face against the window to see if someone outside did it. There's no one. The wind wasn't powerful enough to shut it closed, so what the hell happened. My heart beat speeds up, unaware of the events about to follow. I'm just standing there, practically stuck in fear. I finally manage to move my legs and slowly drag myself out. 

Everything else is the same. Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me. But I remember the breeze, distinctly. I know it was open. Could I have been hallucinating? No. There's no way. I brush it off. I pass off the window shutting as something that's irrelevant, as if it never happened. 

I make my way down the stairs, pass the horny teenagers, searching out in the crowd, hoping to have some fun tonight. But first, let me get a drink from the kitchen. I bounce my hips from side to side, making my way through the party goers. I swing the kitchen door open only to reveal more alcoholics. 

As I look inside the fridge, I sigh. There's nothing in here for me to swallow up. I grab a Four Loko and lean over the kitchen table, while sipping on a drink that'll probably have me entitled for compensation in 20 years. 

I flip my hair to the side and scout for some piece of fresh meat. I notice a 5'11 guy leaning against the wall, drinking a beer, while observing his surroundings. Hot. His hair is dirty blonde, and off to the side. His eyes look a little weird, but beautiful. No, they look majestic. As if they were hand made for perfection. They're grey. He's got an everyday outfit on. A faded Stones shirt, and jeans straight out of the 60s. I'm too lazy to talk to him, so I bring out my "come hither" eyes. He notices me, and makes his way over, casually. 

"Hey," he says to me.

"Hey," I reply.

"What's up?" 

"I was just waiting for you to talk to me." He gives me a playful smirk. My heart almost feels something. 

"I'm Cavern."

"Like the type of bar?" I laugh in my mind. His name is different, but it's cute, and unique. I like it. 

"Yeah. What's your name?"

"Tara." I hesitated at responding at first. I was contemplating whether or not I should give him a fake name or not. Let's see if I regret this later. "What brings you here?"

"Well, I was with a buddy of mine, but he found someone and kind of just left me. But its cool, cuz I found you, right?" The seductive lip lick at the end of the sentence he gives me his almost enough to put me over. I can't tell if he's making me horny, or I'm catching feelings over a small interaction again. 

"Maybe. "

"What do you mean maybe?" He playfully laughs. 

"Well, it depends. I might wanna find a better option. I usually try to go to top tier." I smirk.

"Fair enough." 

We stare at each other. I see the stubble of his beard, and it's sexy. I can't tell if he just wants a hookup or not. He's hard to read. Most guys are like a giant poster, and I know exactly what they want. But not him. Damn you Cavern.

I jolt my head to the doorway. My heart feels like it's skipped a beat. I can hear the terrifying screams coming from the other room. I look to Cavern, but he's already walked away, heading into the other room. I follow. 

Oh my god. A girls dead. Her throats been slashed. Her body's just lying there on the ground. Her surrounding friends are either crying or are in shock from the unspeakable thing that had just happened. There's splashes of blood on them. The dead girls surrounded in a pool of her blood. The other guests are freaking out, not knowing what to do. 

"Help! The doors locked! It won't open!" some girl calls trying to aggressively open the front door. I look at her and remember the window from upstairs.

"Try a window!" I yell. Wait, what's happening. Some girl just got murdered. Shouldn't we call the cops? Is there a killer in this room? A million thoughts are circulating my mind. I feel like I'm about to pass out, but then I'll probably get passed off as dead too. 

I feel splashes of warm liquid squirt on my face and upper torso. I'm distorted, unaware of what had just happened. I look in front of me and scream. Another girls throat had been slit. I scream at the top of my lungs in terror. What the hell is happening. Tears fill my eye as I rush to the front door. Party guests behind me are melting down, not knowing what to do. No one knows what to do, and why the fuck won't this damn door open! I cry as I strive to pull the handle. I look over at the window, and the girl can't open it. What's going on...

Suddenly, I realize the worst thing out of all this...  The girl who had been murdered in front of me, didn't get murdered by a human...  There was nothing. Her throat was just slit. Nobody was behind her. No one was in front of her. No one had a knife. The cut just started forming, and next thing I know she's lying on the ground, lifeless. Nothing was there.