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My heart is pounding as I try to use clues in the vacant room to tell me where I am. Who’s house or apartment I stumbled into, and how the hell I got here.
The clock on the bedside table shows it’s quarter past nine. But I’m not sure if that’s morning or night since there are heavy drapes covering the only window in the room.
Muffled voices can be heard through the bedroom door. Female voices.
Multiple female voices.
I slowly slip out of the stranger’s bed and my feet rub against the carpeted floor as I sneak across the room and grab the doorknob. I don’t want to open it since I’m naked, so I’m not sure why I thought grabbing it was a good idea. Quickly, I let go and try to listen to the conversation that’s happening on the other side of it. I want to get an idea of what I’m about to walk into.
Murderers? Druggies?
An ex of mine?
The door is too thick or dense or something. I can’t hear anything more than I could in the Charlie Brown show I watched when I was a kid.
“Dammit,” I whisper.
Looking down at myself, I jump back in surprise and cover my mouth.
“What the fuck,” I say. The shock I’m feeling resonates in my voice and my words come out as a squeak.
My hand slowly trails up the front of my body over the line of ink that’s soaked into my skin.
It’s a tattoo. A fucking tattoo! It swirls over my hip and stops on my stomach above my belly button. As my eyes move further up, I notice some new metal hanging from my nipples that weren’t there the last time I’d checked.
I carefully touch them as though the nipples belong to a stranger.
How did this happen?
Now in a frenzy, my eyes dart across the room, looking for some sort of mirror. I find a full length mirror and next to the closet where I can steal some clothes and cover myself up.
After I figure out what’s wrong with my body.
I stand quietly, staring at my reflection. My skin is pale and I can’t tell if it’s from some sort of makeup or if it’s because of the blood that drained from my face once I noticed the new ink and piercings on my once mark-free body.
The tattoo on my hip is accompanied by one on my thigh, wrist and chest. I turn my body, keeping my gaze on the mirror as I scan my backside. Two more tattoos appear and one of them is a tattoo of a pinup girl holding a bottle of… I get closer to the mirror and squint. Yes. Holding a bottle of tequila.
My voice cracks when I whisper, “What the hell?”
I’m in complete shock. I pinch my own arm and try to wake up, but when I slowly open my right eye and look around, I’m still in the stranger’s bedroom.
“Dee!”
THUMP THUMP THUMP
I jump and my heart begins to thud in my chest.Someone is banging on the door.
A voice yells at the door after tapping a few more times. “Are you awake yet?”
Whoever lives here knows my name. That’s a good sign, right? Maybe Rachel took me out last night and we got so drunk that we got… tattoos and piercings? Multiple tattoos and piercings?
How do I not remember any of it? I don’t even remember getting Spencer from her house after the store.
Nick is going to kill me.
I reach into the closet and grab the first piece of fabric that touches my fingertips. “Nope,” I whisper, tossing it onto the floor since it won’t cover more than a nipple's worth of skin. “Who are these people?” I ask myself as I look toward the door. “Rachel wouldn’t wear anything like that.”
I finally find a t-shirt and slip it over my head before grabbing a pair of sweatpants that are bunched up at my feet.
