Blog #4- Nothing Good Happens Sober
My eyes and brain fought with one another, but eventually my eyes won out and opened to a darkness even more prevalent than that provided by my eyelids. I reached to my right out of habit to turn on my lamp only feel it pass right through my lamp onto the damp ground. I was suddenly aware of the roughness of the ground beneath me and the cold air on my face. I sat up suddenly and began to really understand my surroundings. My hand sat in the puddle by my side and cement had left my stomach scratched and bruised. My first thought was booze, but I hadn't been drunk in over 48 hours, a record for the past month.
In my defense, I've had a pretty rough time of it. Since our pact of secrecy, the four of us haven't spoken of what happened with the knife. Unfortunately, Brett has seemed to lose interest in speaking to me all together since that day. And his new girlfriend was no help to my mood either. Despite my better judgement I followed them into Scary Carrie's only to find them clutching each other while I quietly walked a few couple's behind them. All the cheesy actors did to try and scare me just bothered me as I tried to observe Brett and company.
Now I woke up, completely sober, clear headed in the shadows of this unmarked alley. The only light that reached the alley shone on a group of frogs--damn these frogs--surrounding some object. Once again my curiosity got the better of me. Curiosity is a new trait in me that continues to baffle and aggravate. I kicked away a frog, a new pastime of mine, and the others scattered.
With their departure, remained a swarm of flies and gnats so dense it absorbed all the light surrounding it. Oddly enough, I was drawn to the swarming mass and without hesitation began swatting the swarm away with my hands. What I found confirmed what I had feared for weeks: Mr. Evans death and my life were inescapably intertwined.
When I finally drew my eyes away from the gruesome sight and looked up, my heart filled simultaneously with dread and relief.
"Again?" Brett stuttered from the entrance to the alley.
In my defense, I've had a pretty rough time of it. Since our pact of secrecy, the four of us haven't spoken of what happened with the knife. Unfortunately, Brett has seemed to lose interest in speaking to me all together since that day. And his new girlfriend was no help to my mood either. Despite my better judgement I followed them into Scary Carrie's only to find them clutching each other while I quietly walked a few couple's behind them. All the cheesy actors did to try and scare me just bothered me as I tried to observe Brett and company.
Now I woke up, completely sober, clear headed in the shadows of this unmarked alley. The only light that reached the alley shone on a group of frogs--damn these frogs--surrounding some object. Once again my curiosity got the better of me. Curiosity is a new trait in me that continues to baffle and aggravate. I kicked away a frog, a new pastime of mine, and the others scattered.
With their departure, remained a swarm of flies and gnats so dense it absorbed all the light surrounding it. Oddly enough, I was drawn to the swarming mass and without hesitation began swatting the swarm away with my hands. What I found confirmed what I had feared for weeks: Mr. Evans death and my life were inescapably intertwined.
When I finally drew my eyes away from the gruesome sight and looked up, my heart filled simultaneously with dread and relief.
"Again?" Brett stuttered from the entrance to the alley.
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