Oops, My BadMature

Jason

Death. Is it like falling asleep? Or is it just replacing one hell with an other? I lay on the bathroom floor, staring at the long, skinny bottle of booze, perspiring on the porcelain tile floor.  I shouldn't drink anymore, my world is already spinning in circles, faster and faster. Screw it. My hand snakes out and whips up the icey bottle to my lips.  Gulping the firey liquid down, I roll onto my back and look up at the ceiling.

What kept me here? Was it the cowardly fear that I might not make it through the gates of heaven? Was it the curiousity, of not knowing what it was like to love? Was it the idiotic hope that kept me believing things might change? I dont know.  Too many questions have gone unanswered.

"Hey, what are you doing, up here all alone?" A feminine voice asks, as a pair of bright red heels, matched with a mini-skirt wearing pair of legs appear above me. Shauna.  From the view I have up her skirt, I know shes not wearing any panties. How hot. I'm pretty sure she didn't start out that way.

"I'm throwin' a party of my own," I slur, raising my bottle to her.

 "Oh-h," she said, giggling coy like, "Am I invited?"

Rolling my eyes, I make an open gesture toward the empty bathroom, "Welcome to the party."

She moves around me, ruining my good view, saying, "I am the party," as she straddles and begins to grind against me gently- testing the waters.  I close my eyes.  God, it feels so good.  

Then why does it feel so wrong? She wants it. She came onto me, that much was clear.  So why didn't I want it? Gently, by her shoulders, I push her off of me.

"No, Shauna, stop," I scramble up off of the floor and stand in front of her.

"Why not?" she asks, crossing her arms and pouting, "You know you want me, baby, you've never said no before."

"Yeah, well I'm saying no now." Was she serious? Pouting? Really? I escape out of the bathroom, down the stairs, into the living room of packed, drunk teenagers.

"Jason!! Buddy," Daniel shouts over the loud stereo, red plastic cup held in one hand, both held above his head, "where've you been?"

"Upstairs, dude," I look over his shoulder at the front door, "look I gotta go."

"Yeah, yeah, okay dude, are you sure you're okay to drive?"

My head buzzes, "Yeah, man, I just- I gotta get out of here."

"I'll see you tomorrow," he yells after me, as I beat my hasty exit. 

Outside in my car, I struggle to get my keys into the ignition trying not to think.  Finally getting it in, I crank the engine to life and pull out of the driveway, then continue down the road. Just don't think about it. Just don't think about it. The lines on the road begin to blur and double and then triple. I don't know which line is the real line.

I barely had enough time to look up from the road and notice the car in front of me before I ran into them.     

The End

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