Tag Archives: stress

Hedonism, Among Other Things

Another Indie Ink Writing Challenge. My challenge this week comes from Bewildered Bug:

It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to

I don’t really have much to say about the challenge this week. The story pretty much speaks for itself.

(You can read my challenge to Operamouth here: Helix)

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Everything has gone to shit, I never wanted this, fucking this going down tonight. All I wanted was to have a few drinks with just a couple of friends, but I guess the word got out that I was going to be doing some off-the-wall-crazy-ass-party or something. Why the hell would anyone think that I was okay with this.

I walk around my apartment and I see some guy I’ve never met puking all over my radiator, which is just delightful. Two others are vomiting simultaneously into my toilet, and missing, while some girl is snorting coke next to them, on my sink. I assume it’s coke at least. And who the fuck are all of these people? Where the hell did they come from?

The lights have been shut off, and someone must’ve brought a strobe light with them. The flashes are giving me a headache. Of course the thumping rave music doesn’t help. Also not my music. People on X keep ramming into me, thinking they’re dancing as I attempt to survey the damage around my home. The people I originally invited over are long gone, leaving me to the wolves. Some friends, I guess. Fuck it, I would’ve left too if it wasn’t my goddamn place.

There is no sanctuary in here. Not even my own fucking bedroom. I walk in and I see a bunch of people fucking fucking all over my bed and floor. More than two, but I honestly can’t tell you how many. Bodies and limbs were strewn about everywhere. A fucking orgy in my goddamn bedroom. I hear more thumping and moaning but I couldn’t tell you where it was coming from, only that I hear it through the walls. They’re not thin either, the walls.

I just want to sit, but I can’t. People are passed out everywhere, on my chairs, my kitchen table, several on my sofa, some on the floor who are risking being trampled by the unceasing dance party. I see this guy drop a pill into a drink before handing it off to some girl. They walk away and are now lost in the crowd. Charming.

Maybe I should have called the police, when 200 people showed up unannounced for a rave in an apartment. But it all happened so fast. And besides, I doubt my landlord would believe me if I told him that I didn’t want any of this and that I was the one who called the cops, especially after this amount of time. Plus I’ve been to fucking busy with whatever damage control I can manage.

Speaking of which, blue and red flashes begin to fill the living room, accompanying the white flashes of the strobe. People think it’s another cool effect until they notice the sound of sirens creeping up from under the music. They start to flee. Every last one of them. Most run for the door, clogging it for a moment while others decide to fuck the crowd and jump out my window. I’m on the first floor anyways, though one moron forgot to open the window as he lept out.

I shut the music off and turn my light on. Finally, there is some peace and quiet. I sit down and rest my eyes, and let the anxiety of the night wash over me. My place is my own again.

At least, until the police come crashing through the door.

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