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The time stamp says it was sent a couple of hours ago.
My hands start to tingle as the alcohol works its way through my system. I turn my head to look around my room but it’s all fuzzy and blurry.
Dammit, why did I think it was a good idea to drink?
What if I fall asleep and throw up? Oh god, this isn’t good.
Maybe I should go to the bar, just in case? At least I’ll have people around me then.
I look down at my worn black jeans, the holes in the knees getting larger as I lift my knees to my chest.
I spot my boots at the end of my bed and push forward onto my hands and knees, crawling over to them and attempting to slip them on.
After several attempts, I manage to get my feet in and use the end of my bed to help me stand. Holding my hands out, trying to balance myself, I stand still; waiting.
Another swig of the vodka and another grimace and I’m all set. I don’t bother to look at myself in the mirror, if I did, I’d probably see a complete mess.
My eyes wander over to my post-it note wall. I’ve pulled so many notes down and now I feel like I’m going back to what I was. Locking myself in my room for nearly two days, that’s not what I wanted and not what I’ve worked so hard for.
Pushing my shoulders back, I pull the hair tie out of my hair and shake it out then grab my cell, calling for a cab.
I sit next to the window, waiting for it to pull up. I may be a little drunk but I’m not stupid. There’s no way I’ll be standing outside on my own, in the dark.
When the cab pulls up, I grab my keys and purse and head outside, jumping straight into the waiting car, not bothering to look around me.
I’ll only make myself more paranoid and tonight I don’t want to think about that, I want to be a normal college girl, go out, get drunk and then wake up with a hangover.
It doesn’t take long to get to the bar and after several attempts to open the door, I finally get out and stumble against the side of the cab. Everything spins for a second and I pull in a deep breath, centering myself, and walk straight to the person on the door. I can’t make out who it is but they seem to know me as they wave me in without a second thought.
I don’t bother to look for Jackson, or even Corey, instead, I go straight to the bar and order a double shot of vodka, to which the girl behind the bar raises her brows at but pours anyway. I tell her to keep them coming and after drinking another three, I start moving to the music that’s playing and venture onto the dance floor.
Another post-it note I can pull off my wall.
I’m in my own little world and everything here is rainbows and unicorns. I don’t want anything else. I refuse to think about everything that normally whirls about in my head. I just want to dance and it’s exactly what I do.
I shake my hips to the song and move away every time someone comes too close.
People are way too hands on, thinking that because I’m dancing that gives them the right to touch me. After the fourth time of the same guy grabbing at my hips, I turn around and slam my hand up into his nose. Something that Kay taught me a long time ago that I’ve never forgotten.
Blood sprays everywhere and I step back so that it doesn’t get on me. My hands fly to my mouth and I’m in shock that I just did that. What the hell is wrong with me?
“What the fuck?” he rages, covering his nose with his hand. His eyes bulge and he steps closer to me.
“I’m sorry,” I squeak, looking around for someone, anyone, as he grabs at my arm, pulling me flush to his front.
“You’re going to regret that,” he growls. I look up into his
eyes, the pupils as small as a pinprick.
“Dude,” I slur. “Get away from me.” I push his arm off me, well, I attempt to anyway, but he doesn’t let go and my movements are sloppy. His grip gets stronger and for a second, I fear for what’s about to happen as he pulls me out of the crowd and passes the bar.
My eyes scan for anyone who can help me but when I don’t spot anyone, I know that I have to do something. This can’t happen, not tonight, not here. The bar is meant to be one of my safe places.
Grabbing an empty beer bottle off the bar, I hold it tight in my hand by my side.
Once we’re in the hallway that leads to the restrooms, he spins me around, his fingers biting into my shoulders as he tries to back me up against the wall. I can’t let him cage me in.
His lips curl up into a sneer and I watch as his tongue swipes his bottom lip, licking the blood off.
