A Graveyard of Stars

May 15, 2014

The night it began... 

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May 15, 2014

It could've been the loud music, the uneven mattress or the recurring nightmare that jolted me awake. I lay on my back in someone else's bed. The room is engulfed in darkness with the only light coming from the crack underneath the door. There is smoke residue lingering around me.

Around us.

My eyes are heavy, even though I'm sure I passed out not even an hour ago. A boy I can't recall the name of is sprawled out beside me, bare chested. My eyes go wide. I check my body for clothing and sigh in relief when I feel my skinny jeans and black undershirt.

I turn my body slowly, careful not to wake the sleeping, half naked, unnamed boy. I underestimate my side of the bed though and slide right off with a painful groan.

"Son of a-" My words are cut short when I hear the bed shift. Oh great. One awkward conversation, coming right up!

Except there are no other sounds after that. I stay still on the carpeted floor for a couple minutes before taking a peak. The boy has hid himself completely under the comforter.

When I start to stand, I spot the source of the smoke on the dresser. Marijuana. And next to that sits many clear baggies, filled with colorful little pills. Memories come rushing back from just before I passed out on this bed. I slide my fingers into my back pocket to retrieve yet another clear baggy, just like the ones on the dresser before me.

Except, this one is empty.

I throw the baggy onto the dresser with the others and tell myself it's not a big deal. It was only one time. I tell myself I'm fine over and over. That I shouldn't get worked up even though I've always told myself I'd never do that shit.

How many shameful things do I have to do, until the shame is all I consist of?

I spot my loose fitting red shirt lying carelessly on the floor. I grab it and throw it over my head. My boots look like they were thrown about, with one at the bottom of the bed and the other in the corner of the room.

Whatever.

I exit the room with my shoe laces tucked tightly into my boots. I'm standing on a balcony looking down at the party. I've never been to a place like this. It's huge. The place radiates life and death at the same time. It's dangerous. The lights dance from surface to surface as bodies become one on the dance floor. Every person here is losing themselves in the music, the drugs, the alcohol and they pretend to like it.

It sucks that Connor decided not to come tonight. I almost didn't come either because what's a party without your best friend? My boots don't make a sound over the music as I walk toward the stairs. I only make it half way to them before a voice brings me to a stop.

"Have fun?"

I turn and watch as Jared Owens strolls toward me. He's wearing a double-breasted cardigan in sweatshirt fabric. It has a shawl collar, side pockets, blah, blah, blah. He's your typical rich kid. Jared has shown in multiple ways that he assumes his parent's wealth makes him better than everyone else.

I shrug. "What's it to you?"

"I never saw you as a one night stand kind of girl. Just someone who plays hard to get," he informs me while crossing his arms thoughtfully and staring down at me.

I smirk. "You only think that because I have rejected you for years. And will for the many years to come."

Jared's eyes narrow, which is my cue to slip away. The stairs are in my view when a clammy hand stamps onto my wrist in a painfully tight grasp. I'm whipped around and smack right into Jared's chest. His Axe cologne invades my nostrils.