Squiffy

Chapter 1

This story is set in An Inspector Calls.
[The end of the play does not happen.]

Eric is sat at the dining table. Edna, Sheila and Gerald are in the room with him. Sheila and Edna are discussing what is to happen next if they find out that the whole fiasco was a scandal, and she would be outed, along with her intolerant parents and sibling. Edna is reassuring her, telling her that this may all be a misunderstanding, and as Arthur has not yet inquired with the police department, there is an aura, of guilt, doubt, and pressure.
Gerald is standing next to Eric. It looked to be that Eric is truly upset about the Inspector's visit, and the mixture of his grief and alcohol did not sit well at all. His head is in his hands and he is sobbing, quietly, but noticably. He was not the type to hide emotions.

"Good god, I really have done it," Eric hiccups. "I've been bloody ruined, haven't I?"
The drowsiness is noticible in his callow voice. His eyes are dripping.

Gerald reassures.
"Eric, how would you be ruined? You don't have the slightest idea if she is still alive or not," He averts his gaze to the ground.
"We dont have the slightest idea that the Inspector was even a real Inspector."

"That still doesn't change the fact that I was so foolish!" Eric's jaw chatters whilst trying to conjure another statement.
"Don't you see Gerald? We all learned something tonight. We killed that girl collectively."

"I suppose that we did. But we were all so unknowing to it all," Gerald sighs. "There doesn't seem to be much point in dwelling over it now."
Gerald offers a hand to Eric.
"Come on, you need to lie down. You are looking unorderly."

Eric grasps Gerald's hand hard and pulls himself up. He wipes his tears on his wrinkled sleeve. Shiela and Edna quickly glance at Eric before returning to their conversation.
"Oh, I feel so disgusting and queasy." Eric frets.
Gerald pulls a questioned face. "Do you need anything?"
"I need the bathroom, that's what."

Gerald guides Eric to the door, but Eric is panicked.
He fleetily swings open the doors and sprints up the stairs to the bathroom, and so, Eric is feeling worse by the second. He can feel his insides convulsing and writhing.
Eric fumbles with the door knob and launches himself to the toilet bowl.
Theres a burning sensation in the back of his throat and his eyes are welling up. Its prickling and seething.
He tenses and clutches the edges of the bowl, discharging an alcohol-bile mix. It smells putrid, and he gags more.
Oh, by god he's shaking. He's hyperventilating and vomiting. Hyperventilating, and more vomiting.
He'd drown in this horrid mess.

Gerald makes his way to the bathroom to see Eric still holding onto the toilet whilst spitting and sweating. He's half collapsed, but his spewing fit had stopped.
"Oh my, Eric..."
He reaches for underneath Eric's arms, and lifts him up. He turns Eric around to face him.
"Eric, this needs to stop. You're looking so awful," Gerald lifts his hand and cups Eric's jaw, and pulls out a handkerchief.
He wipes Eric's soggy face, and then around his mouth.
"How on earth can you walk outside looking so devoid?"
"I don't know."

Something about this is odd to Eric, as Gerald seems to be more snobbish than empathetic toward a person, especially him.
He knew what Eric did, why wasn't he angry like the rest of his family? There's just something about Gerald that is incredibly... off.
Since the Inspector came, he's seemed off. Eric wanted to know what was going on with it all.
Had the Inspector finally bashed some sense into the lad? Is he finally starting to take responsibility for others?

Whilst Eric is deeply philosophizing, he is oblivious to Gerald gently guiding him along to his bedroom.
Eric's footsteps are shaky and uncoordinated, theres no rhythm. The shock of having thrown up almost a gallon- well, seeming like it - seems to have rattled him up like a pair of maracas.
"Ah, you get some rest, you bloody well need it." Gerald says whilst opening the door for Eric.

"Thank you Gerald," Eric looks at him, noticing a worried expression plastered on his face. "I'll be okay, don't worry yourself."

"I have every right to worry for you," Gerald says, easing Eric into his room. "Goodnight, Eric."
Gerald couldn't help himself, but just gawk at Eric's eyes. They were a beautiful honey brown, encased in a broken red.
Their gaze was locked.
He found it wonderful. His mind was wondering, until-
"Goodnight, Gerald." Eric says, interrupting Geralds daydreaming, disappearing into his bedroom, and closing the door.

Gerald sighs, and walks away.