Trigger
My shoulder rammed hard into the wall. Turning, I pulled up the gun and aimed it at him. He abruptly stopped. A cross between hurt and anger plagued his eyes - he was stunned. It only lasted a moment before he doubled over, laughing. He backed up against the counter, laughing almost hysterically. Even as his eyes glazed over with tears, his laughter was hollow and cynical.
My palms were sticky against the metal, quivering as I tried to keep aim. He shot me a dark look.
"Go ahead, pull that trigger. You know, that's the only fucking reason I brought you here in the first place. So you could put that pretty little finger of yours on that trigger and pull it," he growled venomously, spreading his arms in welcome. "Send me to hell where I belong," he challenged in a whisper.
The tight basement was packed with sweaty bodies, loud music and alcohol. With the dim lighting and flashes, it was difficult to keep focused. Everything blended into one big blur. Gripping the doorframe to try to steady myself, I slowly rocked back and forth.
That sour, familiar taste filled my mouth. Oh no. Not again… Falling to my knees, my face guided as close to the toilet bowl as I could manage, I released anything that was left in my stomach. Oliver's hand rubbed gently up and down my back comfortingly.
"I thought you said this wasn't your first time…" he mentioned, shaking his head in disapproval. "I never would have brought you to such a hardcore place if I knew you'd end up like this."
"And that's why I didn't tell you," I muttered back as I spat out the rest of the bile and flushed the toilet. He handed me a mint after I gargled some water in the sink.
"You look like shit. What'd you drink anyway?" he asked, staring at me with concern filled eyes.
"A few of those things, and some other stuff," I answered, making sloppy hand gestures to no where particular. He smiled slightly at that.
"Oh, really?" he asked with an amused tone. "That makes perfect sense."
"Shuttuppp," I slurred out, holding my head in my hands when the dizziness returned.
Oliver sighed. "Alright, come on. My set's over so let's get you out of here. You can sleep a little at my place, and then I'll drop you back home," He said scooping me up off the floor and steadying me with his arm. He guided me through the crowd. I shut my eyes to keep from vomiting again. My feet dragged lazily behind as I stumbled along.
This wasn't an ordinary event for me. I wasn't usually the very adventurous type. I'd always been the more reserved, play by the rules type. In fact, I began wondering just how I managed to get myself into this situation in the first place. In this current state, focusing long enough to remember much was difficult.
Well, I met Oliver a few weeks ago. I'm still getting to know him, but for the most part he seemed like a pretty cool guy. When he offered me to come with him to a party, I instinctively turned him down. It really wasn't my kind of scene. As if reading my thoughts, Oliver cut in.
"Hey, does this have anything to do with Stephen?" he yelled over the loud music. I waited to respond until we pushed our way out the door. The cool night air enveloped me. Finally able to breathe, I inhaled deeply.
Oliver leaned me against the brick wall of the alley before stepping back a few feet and staring at me.
"Well?" he pushed.
My eyes sank to the ground as I slowly shook my head. If I did it too fast, my headache would increase. My mind reeled as I squinted to focus on Oliver.
"You know Mel, I might not have known you that long," he lifted my chin. "But I can still tell you're a terrible liar," I frowned at him. "Don't worry about that. You're better than him anyway. And getting wasted is never that great of a solution," He said, patting my shoulder supportively.
I smiled a little. The feelings that I'd been rejected and used still mercilessly dug at my heart. I probably should have seen it coming. He's always liked Amy.
Oliver started rummaging through his pockets. "Crap, I forgot my keys. I'm going to go back and grab them real quick. You can wait here," He said before ducking back through the door and down the stairs.
I let the wall hold my weight, sliding down slightly and letting my eyes close. Being outside in the fresh air was so much more relieving than being in the muggy basement. Everything was calmer and quieter… for the most part.
A metal trashcan was flung across the opposite end of the alley. It hit the wall with a loud bang.
My eyes flew open, eyebrows pinched together in confusion and frustration. As if I didn't already have a killer headache. I complained in my head as I searched for the source of the commotion. I figured it'd probably just be a few drunk guys messing around. Towards the other end of the alley, I could slightly make out a blurred figure of a person standing over another.
"Hey!" I yelled groggily. "What are you doing?"
The person standing looked over. I must have been really trashed because the next thing I knew, the figure was directly in front of me. Gasping, I tried to back away.
Being as I was clumsy sober, I wasn't any better under the influence. I fell to the ground, on my knees, in failure. Before I could choke out a cry for help, I felt a sharp pain in my neck followed by a soft growling in my ear. My neck felt as if it were on fire. My mind started to cloud and the world faded into darkness.