Better Than Dreams

Accident (S)

Why had I thought going to party would be a good idea? I don't know what was going through my head at the time, but it was not good.

Too many people.

Talking.

Socialization.

Oh, fuck.

At least there were drinks.

I couldn't really just leave- Well, I could, but it probably wouldn't be very kind to Tim, seeing as I was the one who invited him. In my defense, I was just trying to do something nice for him. 

Who am I kidding? It was a shitty idea from the start. 

I usually just went to parties to stand in the corner with a drink, glare at everyone and just look really fucking cool. I had a 72% success rate. 

Sometimes, I just left.

Today, though I decided to make an effort to socialize.

I walked up to a group of students. I knew some of them from my year, but most of them were at least a year older.

"Yo, Seb!" A boy said, laughing, clapping me on the back.

I doubted he knew who I even was, but I tried to smile.

"Jacob." I said, grimacing. 

Jacob was a kid in my Chem class. 

"Want a drink?" He asked.

I'd be lying if I said no, but I really didn't want to touch anything Jacob handed me. I declined. Jacob shook his head.

"Dude. It's a party. The whole point is to drink." Jacob said, swaying slightly. Oh, great.

"I said no thanks."

Jacob shrugged.

"So, um... how are you?" I asked, slowly. I didn't actually give a fuck about Jacob's life, it just seemed polite to ask.

"None of your business. Can you just leave? I'm trying to hang with my girl." Jacob said, putting an arm around the waist of a short auburn girl to his right.

"What the fuck? I just came to say hi." I said defensively. I wasn't exactly sure why. I didn't care what that bastard thought. Tim must've been rubbing off on me. I'd only known him for four months, though.

"How about you go back to your little freak boyfriend? The pathetic blond one."

I knew he didn't know what he was saying; he was obviously drunk, but I hated him. Hated him for calling Tim pathetic. he was anything but. Plus, grades don't equal smarts. Tim was intelligent. Not as intelligent as me, of course, but intelligent none the less.

Somehow, though, "Not my boyfriend." was all I could get out.

"Sure. You wish he was." Jacob said, laughing.

I couldn't stand his fucking grin.

The rest of his face was also horrendous. He had a double chin, beady eyes and a large nose that was- bleeding?

Jacob was staring at me, his eyes wide. His girlfriend screamed.

A fist.

In my face.

Oh.

"Don't you touch me you little bitch!" Jacob yelled, raising his fist again.

I blocked, using the slight bit of self defense I'd learnt at my week-long Tae Kwon Do class. Needless-to-say, Jacob didn't like that. Stupid asshole couldn't stand a prey that could defend itself.

A sudden feeling. Odd. Vision red. Literally. Blood was trickling down from my forehead onto my eyelashes. What? 

I didn't feel the pain for a few seconds, just stood there staring blankly at the shards of broken glass at my feet. Then it hit. It hurt so fucking much. Like someone had smashed my head open with a hammer. A hammer wrapped in barbed wire and acid. Or, in other words, a bottle.

I doubled over. Fell to the floor. Jacob was laughing, but I could barely hear.

I was chocking. Couldn't breath. Nobody seemed to care. Why would they?

I think I passed out. I'm not sure. 

I woke to more blaring lights and too much sound for my brain to process.

I must've only been out for a few seconds because I was still lying in the same spot, clutching my head, blood running down my face.

A girl put out her hand, helping me up. Her and a few of her friends -who were probably the only sober ones at the party- began fussing over me, trying to call an ambulance. I wouldn't let them. One girl said that if I wouldn't allow an ambulance, she'd at least give me roll of gauze. What kind of person just carries gauze? I don't know. I was grateful, though. 

The girl had said her name, but I'd forgotten her. I was fairly sure I'd never seen her before. She seemed to know who I was, though. I don't remember much.

Once I was finally able to escape the group of teenage girls, I staggered to the wall of the club, leaning against the wall.

I desperately scanned the crowd for Tim.

I eventually caught a glimpse of blond hair at the bar.

I was pretty sure it was Tim.

I couldn't see clearly at the time, okay? Sue me.

He was on his phone. Probably texting Harper again.

I ran over as fast as I could, which, admittedly, was pretty slow, considering.

"Sebastian!" He cried.

I tried smiling. 

Failed.

I covered my face with my hand, brushing my hair over the bloody gash. I knew he could see something was wrong. No need to worry him with the full extent of the injury.

"C-can we go?" I asked, choking on every word. Real convincing.

"Yeah, yeah, of course." Tim said, fear lining his words. Fear. "Are you okay? Do you need a doctor or-"

"No. I just want to get out of here." I said quietly.

He nodded and led me out of the club. He was holding my hand. It was nice. Comforting. I couldn't even be bothered to brush it away. Instead, I just squeezed his hand tighter.

He didn't ask any questions.

I smiled.

Genuinely.

Good feeling.

///

Sorry this maybe isn't written too well. I was listening to music and just started writing. It's 11:24PM here... I should probably sleep. 

Hope you guys like it...

(1003 words)