Collateral Damage | afi

Prologue

I was starting to feel lightheaded and a bit dizzy– I guess the smell of weed and alcohol wasn't really helping at all either, and I knew I shouldn't have even been here in the first place but if I was going to die anyways I really wanted to see some familiar faces before things went to shit– and trust me, they were going to get bad, and then they were going to get worse.

Parties weren't my scene, though I desperately wished they were. I wasn't allowed to partake in any of the festivities as made sure by my lovely mother; I wasn't allowed to smoke, or drink, or do anything that other people do to numb the pain, even though that's all I wanted to do– that's all I ever wanted to do. I wasn't even allowed to be here, standing in this room full of people from school grinding up on each other, essentially swallowing their significant other's or nightly hookup's tongue, drinking to forget, and just living life as a normal teenager. I was far from normal, and if my mother knew I was here, if she knew who drove me here, if she knew any details about my current location, she would kill me, but hey– why not let her beat me to the punch right?

She would not only have my neck, but she would have my best friend's too– he's the one taking shots over by the kitchen counter, he's the one wearing the black leather jacket, standing more to the right of the group– no, no, you've gone too far, the tall blonde is his best friend Luke, I'm talking about the slightly shorter one right next to Luke, the one currently sucking on a small lime slice; Ashton Irwin. From my position on the couch, I had the perfect view of him and some of his other friends lining up the tiny glasses, and filling them up with the liquid my mind and body craved. Ashton had been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and he knew how strict my parents were, he knew I wasn't supposed to be here but when a slightly rebellious, "fight the power" side of me came out tonight, and I asked him if we could come to this party, he couldn't resist. He thought I was finally done complying to my parent's every word, but those words were the ones that had kept me safe for so long, the words that have kept me alive.

Screw. Those. Words.

I stood up from the couch, a bit too fast to be exact because I had to steady myself before taking my first step. I headed over to the kitchen where Ashton and some of our other friends were, they were about to take another shot when I slid right over and snatched the glass from Ashton's hand. Everyone from this group had their eyes on me at this point, as it was unheard of for me to be seen at a function like this, and it was an even more rare sight to see alcohol in my hand.

"What are you doing?" Ashton asked, looking from the shot glass, then to me. He didn't care that I stole his drink, I've stolen just about anything from the boy over our many years of friendship, but never did I intend for him to steal something from me. Something that kept me alive, something that was pounding in my chest so loud right now, I'm almost positive he could hear it.

"I'm having a drink" I said before he took the glass right out of my hand and held it away from me.

"You don't drink."

I had never drank. Never tasted alcohol before, never felt the burning sensation that everyone talks about, but that's what I needed right now.

"I do tonight" I sent him a wicked smile, and grabbed the glass once again and knocked the liquid back into my throat, grimacing as the substance spread across my taste buds and down my throat. I scrunched my face together and let out a cough, and as I opened my eyes all I could see was a concerned look plastered on Ashton's face.

He was worried because this wasn't like me at all, I wasn't a rule breaker because I couldn't afford to break any rules– he never knew that though, he didn't know why I was always so persistent on obeying the boundaries my parents set for me. My whole life was about what I could and couldn't do, but I was taking the reins tonight, and I was taking control.