The music from the living room makes the walls bounce. You can hear the bass from the songs more than the words. At this point you can’t hear anything other than the music. I’m not sure why anyone is still having a good time. I got a headache about an hour ago and have been trying to hide in different rooms. Each one just as loud as the previous. I scold myself for coming to the party, for trying to fit in. It’s my senior year, I wanted to finally have a high school experience but clearly I was overestimating how the night would go. There’s no one here that I know well enough to talk to, no one who would stick with me. I look down at my dress, the one I stole from my sister’s closet. It sits about mid thigh and has a small slit on the side. I have never been to a party before, I wasn’t sure what the dress code was. Looking around I think I may have made a mistake. Even though I personally believe the dress is a little scandalous, some of the things the ladies surrounding me are wearing can barely be considered clothes. I once again scold myself for wanting to dress and look like them. They’re practically showing their whole bodies for the boys around them, which is definitely not something I’m striving to do. I blink a couple of times, still not used to the feeling of contacts. I figured I would try something new, because who wants to talk to a girl with glasses. I’ve had contacts for months but could never bring myself to make the switch, worried about what the people at school would say. Yet in the spirit of trying news things for the night, I swapped my trusty glasses for these uncomfortable contacts. Looking down, I swirl the punch around in my cup. At first whatever alcohol in here burned, I almost gagged when I first took a drink. Yet now the burn is almost comforting. It’s been the only constant thing this evening, and I’ve almost come to like the taste. Even though I’m not feeling any different, I assume alcohol just has no affect on me. There are actually cases where people can’t get drunk, their metabolism works too fast. Meaning they can drink as much as they want and will never get the experience of being drunk. Their body burns off the alcohol before it even has a chance to reach the brain to alter it. I chug the rest of my drink, wondering if I’m possibly one of those people. I head over to the punch bowl again, set on completing this experiment. I refill my cup again and again, each time drinking the burning liquid faster. At some point the room starts spinning and I can’t stay on my feet. I decide to kick off my heels, my mind telling me that’s obviously the reason that I’m stumbling. Another new thing I decided tonight, to wear heels, weapons on my feet as I like to call them. I kick them towards a wall, not sure how far they went, but deciding that was their new home for the foreseeable future. I’m stumbling around the house, in search of something, the item in question still a mystery. I decide that obviously this object has to be located upstairs and fumble my way up. I can’t look at the stairs while I’m walking because it makes me dizzy, yet I can’t make it up the stair without looking at them. I’m stuck standing on just one, trying to determine how to make it up the rest. I look ahead of my, trying to count how many until I make it to the top, yet the stairs won’t stop moving. Left and right, up and down they’re twisting so much it makes my head hurt. Obviously this is why I’m not able to make it up the stairs, not because of the alcohol but because this house has moving stairs. After a period of time which I’m not exactly sure how long it was, I somehow made it up the moving stairs. I go into the first door I find, not caring what type of room it was, just needing a place to lay down. Opening the door I find a bathroom, deciding that the bathtub looked really comfortable. I plop myself down and pull the curtain around me as a blanket. Soon the world goes dark and I’m surrounded by the cold fiberglass.
As I wake up my head is pounding. I look around trying to figure out where exactly I am. I unwrap a shower curtain from myself and slowly stand up. I have something that resembles puke across my dress. My ponytail is half down and a full mess. Apparently I am not one of those people who aren’t affected by alcohol, in fact I get drunk very quickly. I flick the light switch to fully see myself in the mirror. Nothing happens. I try again and again, met with the same results every time. I open the door to be met with a hallway of darkness as well. I try to think back to last night and the outline of the house. Where I needed to go after I make it down the stairs to get to my car. But first I had to remember where I put my purse that had my phone and keys in it. I step out onto the cool hardwood floor, sticking my arms out in front of me to guide me. I find the stairs and hold onto the railing like a lifeline to prevent myself from falling down them. Making it down the stairs I find the whole house dark. I can see shapes of people lying on the floor and the couch, all who were too drunk to make it home. I stumble over a person laying in the walkway, catching myself before fully falling to the ground. The person shockingly doesn’t wake up at all, even after being kicked. From the outcome just in this room I can tell that the party was a success and would probably be talked for the next month or so. A small smile crosses my face as I realize that I was at one of the best parties of this year. Even though I had no one to talk to about it, I was still here, and no one could take that away from me. As I continue to the kitchen I trip over something else, this time it’s something pointy, stabbing me. As I bend down to pick the object up I realize it’s my heels that I kicked off at some point. I carry them by their straps and continue on, finally making it into the kitchen. I try the lights again, hoping for a different outcome, yet still being met with darkness. I use my hands to feel around the counters, trying desperately to find my purse. I scold myself for leaving it somewhere and then getting drunk. It would be just my luck that someone stole it. They probably stole my car too. I start to figure out how I was going to explain this to my parents. It’s one thing for me to sneak out to a party and not come home for the night, but to also lose my purse, phone and keys, they’re going to be furious. After an endless amount of searching I move back to the living room. I didn’t spend much time in here but there is a good portion of the night that I don’t fully remember. I stumble around a couple bodies, searching for my purse. My hand falls into a pool of something slimy, assuming it’s puke I wipe it onto my dress. I scramble around a little more searching for my purse. I come up empty handed. Giving up I decide to just walk home. There’s obviously no way I’m going to find anything in the dark, and at this point I’m just wasting time. As I walk out into the night I’m hit with a gust of cold wind. My short dress giving no warmth. I start walking down the road, wishing I had a jacket or a pair of socks at least. My house is at least a 30 minute walk from here, and at my current pace it will probably take close to an hour. I have no idea what time it is, or hell even what day it is. There’s no telling how long I was blacked out for. I stare at the moon, trying to judge it’s position to guess on the time. I give up, knowing nothing about moon placement in relation to time. My mind wanders as I walk, thinking of nothing and everything at once. As I walk I take in my surroundings, the road is silent and all the houses lining the street are completely dark. I haven’t passed by any street lights but I’m starting to wonder if maybe there was a power outage, considering the eerie sense hanging over everything the idea doesn’t seem too far fetched. As I’m walking I swear I hear a set of footsteps around me but every time I look I’m met with darkness. But I’m out here by myself so there can’t be any footsteps other than my own. I walk some more, trying to ignore the new pain in my feet, it feels like a stabbing pain every time I take a step. My body is icy cold and I can see my breath in front of me. I start to pretend that every breath is a ghost floating around me. All of them coming into view and then flying away, just wanting to see the pathetic image that is myself. I pretend that they are using me for entertainment, laughing and making jokes about me with their ghost friends. I’m filling my mind with crazy thoughts to pass time, to take my mind off the pain and the cold. Trying to focus on anything other than the terrible situation I’ve put myself in. I swear I hear the footsteps again and decide to stop walking, so sure that I’m not imagining this. I wait for a couple of seconds, almost laughing at myself for being so paranoid, when the steps start up again. Loud, thumping steps, ones that are purposely being made to sound scary. Footsteps that sound threatening, ones that are slowly getting closer. I start walking again, my pace quickening. I tell myself that that I’m over exaggerating, someone else could just be out walking, and their natural footsteps just sound like that. But something deep inside of me tells me that I can’t let my guard down, and that I really don’t want to meet the owner of these footsteps. I decide that if it is someone following me that I shouldn’t lead them straight to my house. I take a detour through the park, this way I can tell if it is someone truly following me or if my mind is just messing with me. As I’m walking through the trails I loose the sound of the footsteps. The loud thudding has disappeared and I can just hear my shallow breaths. I stop for a second to laugh at myself. For being so silly that I thought someone was following me, someone was stalking me. I’m embarrassed of myself for being so scared over nothing. I look around the park at all the sights, there’s a pond sitting in the middle, a couple of geese swimming around. The night is peaceful and it’s beautiful here. I twirl around looking at everything, the trees that are slowly swaying in the wind. A couple of birds and squirrels that are simply living life. Everything seems perfect in this moment. As I’m twirling I see something glimmer in the distance. I squint my eyes trying to make it out, unable to determine what it is. I start to back up, everything suddenly feeling off. As I’m walking back a figure emerges from the darkness, the item glinting in the moonlight even more. Those damn thundering footsteps start again, only this time I’m positive they’re real. They’re coming towards me, closing the gap at a sickening pace. I turn around and start to run. The pain in my feet suddenly not a problem anymore. My heart is beating dangerously fast and I can’t seem to breath properly. That figure had a knife, or a blade, or something that would seriously hurt me. And they were aiming right at me, I was the target of this attack, absolutely no question about it. I have no idea how to get out of this park, no idea where the nearest police or fire station was. I was helpless, my mind not functioning like I needed it to. The only thing I could do was keep running, and hope that I found a way to make it home. The footsteps matched the pounding of my heart. Both panicky and erratic. I take a turn off the trail, hoping to lose my attacker in the brush. I immediately realize that this was a huge mistake. Straying from the path is doing nothing but make it harder for me to run away. The tree roots tripping me, causing me to slow down. My plan to lose my attacker doesn’t work, those thundering footsteps still following behind me. My heart is racing and soon drops. I know there is no way I’m making it out of this. My attacker is too fast, too focused on his target, too determined to finish his mission. I can’t keep running forever, there’s no place for me to hide. I’m not going to survive the night, my life is going to end. There’s nothing I can do about this and I’m tempted to give up. Just allow my attacker his win, end this terrible suffering. I have no fight left in me. My body isn’t as strong as usual and is still fighting off the effects of the alcohol. Just as I’m about to fall I step into a streetlight. I’ve made it to a road, one that has power. I look down and am horrified by the sight. My dress and hands are covered in blood. I pat myself looking for a wound that I didn’t notice before. I come up empty handed. I don’t have time to process where the blood came from before I’m tackled. My attacker found me. My head hits the pavement, bouncing against the yellow lines. My attacker is on top of me, breathing heavy. He raises his weapon, which I can finally identify as a knife. The cool metal glinting once again against the light. He slams it against me, once, twice, and one more time. The pain lasts only a couple seconds before he stabs me again. The dried blood on my dress being rehydrated quickly. I turn my head to take in my final surroundings. A cherry blossom tree raining it’s petals down on me. My attacker removes himself from my body, a weight being lifted off of me. I take what I assume is my final, shallow breath. Scolding myself for wanting to fit in and go to a highschool party. I say goodbye to my parents and sister, hoping they forgive me for my foolishness. I say goodbye to my unlived life, wondering what the future held for me. I close my eyes and allow myself to float away. My heart no longer matching the thundering footsteps that are walking away from me.
Breaking News:
It has been a year since the massacre at 1983 Willow Street. Today we remember the night that 23 students lost their lives. 22 of them found inside the house where a party was hosted. The final victim found lying in the road 2 miles from the house. Each student stabbed multiple times. The attacker still hasn’t been found, if anyone has any information please contact the authorities at 201-334-6785. Any and every tip can be helpful. If anyone has any information please come forward to help give these families a sense of closure. Today we take a moment of silence for our students whose lives were cut far too short.
