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I had this weird nightmare so I wrote a story based on it

Hello! This is the first thing I'm posting here! I'm sorta rusty on writing my own stuff, so this might suck a bit. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯


CW// alcohol and weed mentioned (don't do drugs kids)

 



I wiped the snot dripping off my chin and silently cursed myself for not listening to Mom on the whole sweater spiel. The pavement shone red, then green, then blue as the strobe lights inside danced to the beat of the five hundredth song. As I emptied my nose on my shirt, I could smell the still-damp Budweiser Jeremy spilled on me before he wandered off somewhere to find me a paper towel. Pitted with the rhythmic thumping of the EDM music, his laughter had its own pace to it—an assault of “ha’s” repeated until it faded out. I’m sure whatever she was saying was much more interesting than anything I’d ever come up with, credited the first time I’ve ever heard him laugh that loud is from behind this goddamn door. If I were the gutsy type, I’d spy in through the peephole on a world I’d never be welcomed into. 


A flurry of tears joined the Budweiser on my shirt as I bottle-fed myself the last of this vodka-whatever-the-fuck I’d been handed. It was thanks to this and the shots that I couldn’t feel the air making me shake in my shoes. I wanna go home! Take me home! I wanna go… I retreated within myself. With every thump, every wind-caused rustle, my wishful thinking expected Jeremy to hit me with the door, offer me his warm hand, and take me back to the car for a slow makeout sesh and the last of the edibles I stuffed in his glove box. I emptied the vodka-nightmare mixture and must’ve passed out for God knows how long. 


WHAM! Something hard had smacked me upside the head.


“Holy fuck! Dude, are you okay?” A very blurry Jeremy offered me his free hand. The other was in Kathy’s.


I shifted my gaze the other way as I was pulled up again. He let go of my hand as soon as I steadied myself with one of the porch’s chipped-up support beams. The snotfest on my shirt had frosted over with the oncoming snow. I pointed to the sky to no one’s acknowledgment. Tiny white spots fluttered down from the gloomy black sky where the clouds had blotted out the light of the stars. Someone, probably Sam, had brought in a speaker from inside and subjected the rest of us to cheesy lo-fi hip hop garbage. I remained huddled on the splintered stairs, gripping my head as a wave of throbs shook up my skull. I winced as it crawled its way to my right ear. 


The flurry must’ve started shortly after I passed out because it’d already begun piling up on the yellowed patches of grass. I looked up at everyone who’d come out to see it and watched a group of boys throw filthy clumps, that were more mud than snow, at each other. Jeremy and Kathy had gone as soon as they came. They weren’t even at the loveseat he was so fond of. I murmured his name to myself, half hoping to summon him like a Pokemon. I said it again, slightly louder, before opting to look in the beer cooler behind me for an answer.


What was left of the two bags of ice I hauled in was a pool the last four Buds had sunk in. Judging by the tint it’d taken up, someone had chucked snow in it as a piss-poor attempt at keeping it fresh. With a drink in each hand and a dull ache in my head, I walked back out onto the stairs. Before even making it onto the slippery lawn, I lost my footing and stumbled, face first, into the dirt. On the way down, my hands stayed glued to the cans and failed to soften my fall. 


“Fuck!” I cried before I came crashing down. 


My shrieking only sparked an outcry of laughter. It was as though a pack of hyenas with human faces had huddled over me, ready to descend on their scrawny, helpless victim. Out of the indistinguishable mass of smirking faces, Jeremy’s hand appeared. His gold ring was cold to the touch and for a moment, I wondered how his finger hadn't dropped off with frostbite. 


“You got a humiliation fetish or something I don’t know about?” He teased.


Instead of answering, I dipped down and grabbed the only beer can that hadn’t popped.


“Here go,” I managed through shaky lips, awkwardly shoving it into him.


He held it like I’d coated it with cyanide. The returned gratitude was painfully forced, but I was just glad he let me follow him down to his truck. I swallowed hard as I recognized the bunch-up silhouette in the passenger seat as Kathy’s. 




The nightmare itself was really just me sitting outside of a party while listening to my friends and loved ones laughing and talking without me. I thought that alone would be really boring so I just added a bunch of other dramatic stuff to give it an actual story. I didn't feel like thinking about it anymore. I'll never finish this or add to it or whatever. 


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