Before I Met You

1: "Grade A Asshole"

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚗𝚎 

"𝙶𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝙰 𝙰𝚜𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎"

Then

I COULDN'T TELL anyone how long I've been sitting in this car. I think it's been days. That's how long it feels at least when I finally feel flashlights shine into the backseat.

I'm not sure who is out there, or if they're some sort of search party for us, but somehow I've made it out of the car and am face down on the cold, wet grass. It had rained about an hour ago I think. I only noticed because that seemed to be the only thing to take me away from the silence of the car. Mia stopped talking hours ago.

"Sir, can you hear me?"

I am still face down in the grass. I can't move, I can't speak. All I can seem to do is just sit here and shiver from the dampness, my mind jumping to my blood stained pants. Will the rain take the blood away? I hope so.

In seconds I feel hands pull my body onto a stiff board. I'm strapped down and being carried up what seems to be a cliff? A hill? I don't know, but it's steep. There's a bunch of red and blue lights flashing everywhere when we reach the top, the brightness seeming to almost blind me. I haven't seen light in hours. I'm so used to the darkness. To the silence.

"Oh my god!" I hear my mom shout from a distance before she is by my side. My eyes dart from her to the people carrying me. I want to speak! I want to say something, but my body just remains limp. "Oh, my poor baby. You're going to be okay. My sweet boy." Now she's practically convulsing with sobs, her tears falling onto my face.

Maybe Mia is still alive? She started to shiver after she couldn't speak to me anymore, and I managed to take off my jacket to give her. I passed it over to her, but I don't know if she grabbed it. Is she warm now? Maybe she just couldn't talk because she was scared.

I hear my mom talking to my dad I think on the phone to tell him that we're going to the hospital. She doesn't say anything about Mia. She doesn't say if she's in an ambulance behind me. She just climbs into the back by my side and grips my hand tighter than I've ever felt.

Now

I'm growing tired of spending the same nights with the same, boring individuals. It seems as if nobody has anything better to do on a Saturday night than get wasted or smoke some weed, and I'm starting to get nauseous from the clouds of smoke that are consuming this house.

Fuck. I don't honestly know what time it is, but everywhere I look it's crowded. I'm hardly able to get down the stairs from the swarms of new freshmen just dying to get a taste of what a college party is like. It's their first weekend on campus. I thought they'd want to get settled in before classes start up on Monday, but instead they're acting like a bunch of horny high schoolers.

Four boys are cheering as they watch a couple of girls go in for a group kiss. One of the girls spills her drink onto the floor, causing me to groan in frustration from the mess I'll probably have to clean up later. I am the sober one after all.

"Xavier!" Rodney shouts, raising a red solo cup up towards me. He's so shitfaced right now. "Come on, man! We're playing strip poker!"

It feels so hot in here. The leather from my jacket is sticking to my skin, the warmth rising to my neck until it reaches my face. I'm itching for a drink. I'm craving one. I want to have fun like everyone else is here, but if I allow myself to do that then I'll let myself down. It sounds stupid, but I've never stayed sober for this long.