Breaking The Surface

3.Hungover

Stuck. That was what how I felt when I woke up. My eyelashes were stubbornly stuck together with what presumably smelt like vomit. My brain felt sluggish - no, wait. The brain is mine, therefore, I feel sluggish. See what I mean? My entire body felt too heavy to deal with and my stomach felt like a strange mixing pot. I didn't think that was a good sign even at the time. I was honestly quite happy I was alive, it would just be nice to see again.

Like an awkward baby walrus I flapped around till I found a bottle which I prayed had water in it. I opened it and poured some into my mouth to test if it was another vile liquid. It passed and soon enough I washed a lot of vomit off my face.

'Oh, the joy of vision! Or the curse of it! Where and how? Who? What even? But if... I just, I just can't!' is a very accurate summary of the logical thoughts that streamed through my head. Vodka, whiskey, bile, a burrito, water and other select ingredients are what streamed through my mouth soon after. This action was repeated another three times. Ah, a perfectly horrendous start to a perfectly horrendous morning! And if I thought I knew hunger before this, boy was I wrong. My stomach had its own personality now and there was just one word to describe it - beast. I needed food more than I needed oxygen at that point. As we all know, in the jungle to acquire food you need to hunt it down.

I silently focused on standing without hydropumping my internal organs out or accidently thwacking my head against any strange object. Mission accomplished! I then proceeded to scan my surroundings - familiar looking girl sleeping on bar with strange bottle, condom basket, bottles on floor with strange girl, expensive looking phone and dildo in jacuzzi, boy and girl in towels, jacuzzi with vomit on edge, strange naked boys on floor, paint, strange cigarettes, vomit, shoes, condom packets, candy, phone, roommate. Sun. Run!

I stumbled inside and cowered in the shade. I had some hope of controlling my head inside. I got some relief from the glare and I decided the most sensible thing I could do was to find the bathroom first, so I did. It took quite a bit of groaning, stumbling and confusion, but eventually I made it. I don't know if it was something to be glad about or not, because on one hand my clothes were in there and I could clean myself up, but on the other hand Sarah Shaw was in the tub with streaked eyeliner in her bikini bottoms. I figured the bathroom was big enough for the two of us. I began washing the vomit out of my ear as another shower of blessings splashed its way up my throat. Gosh! It was like I bathed in the stuff. I honestly couldn't stand it. I glanced at Sarah and just hoped for the best as I peeled off the black monokini of death which i supposed had been one of the contributing causes to my current situation and took it to the showering section of the bathroom. Five minutes later I had showered up, brushed and dried off using supplies from the cabinet which was very obviously for guests. This I guessed as it had Tampax , Trojans and Ibuprofens lined together. Matt really did plan this out then? i had rinsed the swimsuit too.

There was a problem - no lingerie. That stuff was expensive, even he wouldn't be able to supply all the girls' needs. I silently went back to the jacuzzi in a bath robe where I remembered seeing Josh. I took his car keys and trudged through the mansion to the lawn where Josh had parked his car. It sat between a Porsche and a Rolls Royce. I didn't have time to admire the cars, the sun was too much to deal with on its own. I fumbled with the key before realising it was automatic and that I must have repeatedly locked the car at least fourteen times. Skill. I took my beach bag from inside and headed back up to the Sarah Shaw bathroom. Once I was back I changed and actually looked pretty decent in my ripped black shorts and Aero top with Roxy flip-flops instead of Tracy's deadly heels. Talk about relief!

Now that I was clean it was time to deal with the unfed civilisation that lived in my stomach. I found the kitchen, but it wasn't hard to guess that a lot of weird stuff might be in the food. There were cookies and brownies that I didn't even doubt were more than slightly illegal. The bowls of chips and dips seemed fine enough, but who knows where had whose hands been. I went through his shelves till I found a pack of gum and cereal in the last shelf of the cabinet behind the air freshener. Neither had been opened to my delight! In his fridge there were three cartons of milk. I ate breakfast there, among all my passed out batchmates and their spewed dinner and sweat. Talk about bonding though.