You're in Ruins

I remember making out with some chick...oh, right, it was Mandi. We were by the pool, drinks in hand, eating eachother's faces off. We were interrupted several times, mostly by other offers. Nah. Mandi and I were party-buddies. Of course, we'd never gotten around to hooking up, but it was all still fun.

Then, this one time, I saw this chick pulling Mandi away from me. She was cute. She had really blonde hair, tan skin, and baby blue eyes. She was relatively tall, and super thin. Almost anorexic-looking. A beach girl, I decided. Not really my type.

"I've got to go...Mom's gonna be pissed if I'm not home soon..." she slurred, and I saw just how drunk she was. If she wasn't so pretty, I'd have probably called her a whore. Her clothes were disassembled, and her hair was everywhere, not to mention her makeup was all over her face. I laughed.

"Ugh, fine, ditch me." I knew that Mandi hated it when people left her parties early. She was one of those party-till-you-drop kind of girls.

"Ha! Like you're so bored," the drunk girl laughed, indicating me. I wasn't so drunk that I couldn't understand the sarcasm myself. Mandi made an obscene expression, and then turned and smashed her face back on to mine.

We stayed like that for a while longer, and then she pushed me away.

"I'm thirsty. Gimme a drink?" I knew she was three times as drunk as I was, and another would make her pass out, I check my watch: two A.M. It was late. I got up, and made my way through all of people dancing around. Part of me wondered if Mandi actually knew them, or if they just decided to stop by and party. The other part of me didn't really care.

I walked into the kitchen, and I hear this deafening crash. Everything stops. The music, the people, everything. Then, suddenly, in one big blob of teenagers, we're all outside. I see someone running. It's a girl, and, on a whim, I decide to follow her. I'm a big runner, so I easily caught up to her. I shouted to her, asking where she was going. She didn't reply, she may not have even heard me.

We came to an even larger crowd of people (yet, I'd be willing to bet most of them were sober), and she started jumping, screaming, "Leigh! Leigh!" and I wondered who this Leigh was.

Moments later, through the crowd, I saw a stretcher being pulled into an ambulance, and a girl, caked in blood, was laying on it. I recognized her: it was the blonde chick from Mandi's.

The girl right in front of me started sobbing, and I realized the blonde girl must have been Leigh, and a dear friend to the sobbing girl. I stood there for a moment, and just watched her cry. She was quite pretty, even in her devastated state. She had wavy brown hair, and pale skin. I couldn't really see her face, but, from what I could see, she almost looked like a doll.

The crowd then started to thin, and I swear, the brunette girl must have just stood there for an hour. I, myself, was feeling very dizzy, and quite sick. I trekked back to Mandi's house to find everyone gone, and Mandi passed out on one of her many couches. I laid myself on the floor, and quickly drifted to sleep.

Nightmares haunted me throughout the night. The image of the sobbing brunette, and the blood-soaked Leigh sauntered through my dreams. I knew what had caused it: Leigh had been drunk. Drinking may have seriously hurt her, if not, killed her.

I vowed never to drink again.

I woke up to the ten A.M. news.

"Last night, after a wild party, a car crash devastated two families. One, the Hitcher family, faced the death of their daughter, Leigh, whom is believed to have caused the wreck due to drunk driving. The Stapple family, whose son broke his arms, and three ribs, is not pressing charges. They said that 'they think the the Hitchers have suffered enough'. Back to you, Tom."

My stomach drops as I listen. Oh no, I think.

And then I see Mandi.

She's sitting on her couch, upright, her face red, eyes bloodshot, and tears trailing down her cheeks. She's shaking.

"Mandi, I'm so sorry," I whisper.

"God...and the last thing I said to her was that she was ditching me. God." And she broke down. Her head in between her knees, she's violently sobbing, slowly rocking back and forth.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God...."

I crawl up onto the couch, and wrap my arms around her. "I'm so sorry, babe. I really am." She just cries. I couldn't blame her.

Now, I'm only wishing I could wrap around the brunette girl. The one with the face like a doll.