A Prose With No Direction

One Night

Fucking lights.

Fucking people.

Fucking noise that just amplifies every second you breathe!

It's been over a year since my last party.

It's been over a year since I last rode the rhythm of the music, swaying my hips side to side. 

It's been over a year since the sweet tang of ice cold beer tickled my tongue.

It's been over a whole fucking year since I've been to a party.

And, to be honest, I can't see how I've ever found it to be fun.

One friend.

Two friend.

Three friend. 

My friends... 

Leave me alone to sit in our table as they go off to dance, to grind, to flirt, to fu—

EYES.

Eyes meet eyes. 

Eyes meet eyes as dead as mine.

Eyes that are an ocean blue contradicting to these black ones of mine.

Eyes meet eyes.

It's been over a year since I looked at a boy.

Eyes so lively yet depressing, so easy yet complicated, so full yet so empty. 

Eyes, eyes, eyes that intrigue these black ones of mine, stare deeply into the soul of these eyes.

Eyes that resemble the eyes of the ocean.

So mesmerizing.

So intriguing.

So beautiful. 

So— 

"Damn it's hot," Belle exclaims, falling onto the chair next to mine. Her face is flushed with alcohol and skin dripping with sweat. 

She glances over at me. "I've never, ever seen you sit down for the entirety of a party—" she says. "Why aren't you on the floor?"

I purse my lips. "I don't dance..."

"Bullshit," Rosa laughs. 

I look at her. "Anymore," I finish. "I don't dance anymore."

"That's still bull," Belle says. Hands grip my wrist. 

Pitter-patter.

"Come on, the DJ's not gonna wait for us," Belle says, pulling me up to my feet. "I did say we'll have you partying till morning."

Grip tightens.

Pitter-patter.

Arms, legs, and body freeze in time.

Pitter-patter.

She looks at me oddly. "Why're you just standing there?"

Body tenses. 

Pitter-patter.

"—." She calls out my name.

Heart shakes.

Pitter-patter.

Mind fuzzes.

"Hey,—." She waves her hand, her voice muffling away.

My vision blurs and her face is scratched off like a dissatisfied artist with his unsatisfactory work. I feel myself fall on my back, my entirety escaping to a different dimension where water now wraps its arms around my limbs, my heart, and my mind.