Drunken Summer – by Bill Wonsey

The days started merging into each other. I couldn’t even begin to decipher which days were which. As the nights got later, I began to wonder what the purpose of going to sleep was. Was it only to just wake up the next morning, tired? Always tired. Just another psychopathic nightmare just beginning to unfold. Summer was peeking its dirty evil head around the corner again, waiting for me.

 After a much exasperated, drunken summer, I was ready to continue my journey throughout the hellish reality of-

Wait; let me start from the beginning.

The twist of my existence started when I was merely a twelve year old. Growing up was hard for me as one of my good friends died at such an early age. This caused very many traumatic turns of different abuses

After a much exasperated, drunken summer, I was now ready to continue my journey throughout the hellish reality of a small school in a very small town. My life wasn’t said to be a bad one but a very lonesome and tiresome one. All I do know is one night in that busy, exasperated, drunken summer: I just saw a small spark of fire. Then, suddenly, my warm, lonesome and ignored body was now a cold corpse surrounded by people.

“Are you okay?” They asked me.

My body had felt as if I were lying on a bed of sharp nails, this discomfort proved otherwise as well as my disregard for their question.

Somehow I muttered out, “Of course I’m fine, who do you take me for?”

As soon as these once familiar faces started to ignore me again like the plague, I said annoyingly, “Now, I don’t know what the fuck is happening to my body.”

As my gasping breaths for air happened to pour out this confession, my sense of reality happened to become warped. “Was it the hit that I took earlier?” I asked myself, thinking back to that small spark of fire that had once showed me the way. I’d done it countless times before without this type of thing happening. A great compressing of my stomach inflicted me as if I hadn’t eaten for days on end. It then dawned on me what had happened.

 A tormented, twisted, large man in a rain coat confronted me a day earlier asking if I wanted some kind of sick, apparently legal substance. What this legal substance was, I could only imagine. It was obviously not anything that I’d had my hands on before, as I never had such a reaction to a drug. With no reluctance, I accepted this ‘kind’ man’s offer.

 It was only now where these strange delusions approached me, just as vivid as the sun’s break as it begins to shine through the distant clouds. For months I realized I had been in euphoria. Before the large tormented, twisted, large man in a rain coat had approached me, I attempted to get my hands on anything at this time. I would examine items including clothing, toothbrush (for which I made sure I counted all the tiny annoying bristles that made up the head), and of course for, my obsession with phoning up every one of my previous relationships to tell them just what a good time I was experiencing. Nothing could bother me at this time even if my best friend was shot and killed right in front of me. Some subjects may think that drugs are a key factor in this story, and that’s when my story took a strange twist.

“Stop,” I thought, getting up to get more rum. The ice melted long ago. I never liked the ice, albeit, I did like it better cold. The rum bottle made a large popping sound as I took off the cap, pouring out the remainder of the bottle, a healthy portion into my glass. I sat back down at my typewriter, cigarette burnt completely out. “Damnit,” I thought, putting another back in my mouth. The story had holes in it, burnt holes.

Just a day after my psychotic episode, I managed to get myself to Amherst College. This busy neighboring town was the source of my income. My job consisted of basically being old alumna’s bitch. When they wanted more wine, I brought them more wine. If they wanted their ass wiped, I brought them a towel and hope that they would have enough muscle function in order to do it for themselves. It was here where I met another Alumni bitch with the name “Boss”. I called her Boss for just the reason that she had bossed me around to do work. She liked this name, and for that reason, I continued calling her it. Boss peaked my interests. This infatuation hit me just as hard as someone jumping through the window of his or her car. It even felt better than the substance that was experienced a day earlier. I decided to take a risk and talk to this lovely vixen. “H-Hi”, I stuttered. She giggled faintly and proceeded to comfort me as she tried to release the age tension between us. Time stopped before us.

Have you ever pressed the walk button at an intersection when no car is time to react? It was much like that.

Work lasted longer that day as though Boss made time stop before us. Every second with her made me happier than the second before. “Should I ask her?” I said to myself with a gleam in my eyes. “What’s the worst that could happen?” I thought. I decided to wait until later to decide what I should do and continued working with her. I got to know a lot more about her than I expected, even that her ex-boyfriend was working downstairs. “Asshole,” she murmured to me. I then proceeded to take one step further, with the tension on me like a man who is walking in front of a twenty-gun salute. I smiled knowing that each time I listened to her, I gained more respect and kindness from her. Whenever I made a slick comment she laughed like I’ve never heard anyone laugh before. She was beautiful when she did that also. Even if I couldn’t actually be with her, I could still actually enjoy her presence.

Usually we had breaks after extended shifts. Often we would go get coffee at the local place. Most of the time, if you knew one person from that town, you knew all of them from association. I made my way up to the counter, knowing exactly what I had wanted. I, of course, had to wait for my companion who had never been there before.

“I’ll just have a coke,” he said.

“God damnit,” I sputtered under my breath.

A soft voice interrupted me from behind.

“Hi kid,” Boss said.

I spat out my coffee on my unsuspecting friend who was analyzing Boss. I knew he was thinking about her long white neck with her skimpy spaghetti strap tank top revealing her shoulders.

“You there?” She giggled.

Evidentially I was staring with my jaw propped open. I finally managed to get a word out, or what I thought was a word, but more so most resonated to a sound.

“Hey there” I squeaked.

This conversation consisted like this for a couple of minutes before we all walked back to the second part of our shift. I walked behind with her while my companion walked steadily ahead, nervous as always that he was going to be late.

“I’m totally going to be fired” he said with a skittish tone to his voice.

We kept talking until we got back to the front steps of her dorm. Boss had looked great regardless of her being in her work clothes. Her hair-pattered with flour from working downstairs near the end of her shift. Her fingernails not so perfect anymore from the long shifts she was working. She was just beaut-

“Hey, aren’t you going to be late to your next shift?” She said, cutting off my thought.

“Shit.” I said with great distress to my voice.

“Before you leave I need to tell you something!” She replied.

I was halfway down the hallway by the time she finished her sentence.

“I’ll come back after and talk to you!” I yelled down the hall, awakening all the hung over kids.

“But I’m not-” She cut off as I got down out of her dorm. I looked at my phone to check the time, 11:30.

“I’m only a half hour late,” I thought to myself with an upbeat tone. I looked back towards Boss’ dorm thinking what she wanted to tell me while I hurriedly cross the street. The impact of pavement against my head and hands became a familiar one as I looked up at the sun and the sign of “Dining Services in my sight.

“Look what you’ve done now,” I heard in the depths of my hearing. The tormented, twisted, large man in a rain coat had been talking to me through this experience. “Get up,” he said quietly. I thought about not listening to him before it felt as if he pulled me off the ground himself.

“Are you okay?” Someone yelled as I heard the sound of a car door shutting behind the words. My phone was still in my hand and I moved it closer to my face to read it again, 11:36.

“Shit” I said angrily.

“You just got hit by a car!” another yelled, more so talked or whispered to me, but it sounded like yelling with the situation at hand.

“I’m late” I said, stumbling to my feet, and walking into the building dripping blood from my newly broken nose.

I finally made it to my shift, washing dishes instead of catering as my appearance wasn’t up to server-par. Plus, I had stolen a case of wine earlier in my shift and this was the perfect time to drink it. I had drunk all of it by the time my shift had ended.

I walked to Boss’ dorm after my shift, drunk, ripped twisted from the loss of blood and having drunk a case of wine. My nose was still sore, but the bleeding had stopped. I started walking inside her dorm, stopping to look at a mirror to see my appearance. I thought I looked great with the exception of having a blood-stained dress shirt. I took it off immediately and threw it in the trash nearby. I had a tee-shirt on underneath, ironically red. I eventually made it there, knocking on other dorm rooms, scaring people with my appearance as well as being obviously drunk at 3:30 in the afternoon.

My fist hit her solid door with determination and eagerness. A familiar face answered her door, but it wasn’t Boss. It was her suite mate.

“Is she -?” I asked

“She went back to California” she budged in, “She transferred, she won’t be back.”

I peeked in her room only to see a mattress with nothing on it as well as the room being completely vacant. Boss was gone. The door immediately shut right in my face.

“God damn Communists!” I muttered. I turned around and punched the solid, cold, concrete, cell-like wall only to break a knuckle in my right hand. I thought back earlier in the morning to what Boss had tried to tell me. “I’m not going to be here,” is what she said. I had just ignored it. I still had my job at the college, but I had no will to go back. This is where I met the tormented, twisted, large man in a rain coat for the first time. My escape.

After work that night, I managed to drive myself down to the local party area to get completely wasted for that time being. At least, that’s what my intentions were for that night. By the time I made it there, settled in and socialized, the other girl that I was interested in on the time was already completely gone and didn’t want anything to do to me. “It’s amazing what a couple drinks will bring out from someone.” I said right to her face. She laughed, as she had no idea what was going on and preceded to walk away with whom I thought was my friend. Little to my knowledge, this wouldn’t be the first time that the two of them would pull such a dick attempt, it would be after they had their little fling and after they had stopped talking for an extended amount of time.

With the feeling I had from the situation plus the binge drinking I had performed so far, I had decided to switch over to something that no one would really suspect. Little, really hard seeds were my weapon of choice. The little buggers, commonly named “Heavenly Blues”, had to be prepared first before getting their psychedelic properties. Vaguely enough, I don’t recall the entire procedure, but I do remember something about a coffee grinder. Beyond the point, the way you get messed up doesn’t matter; it’s how long it takes to get into full effect. My friends were tripping off their asses before too long. I however, was sitting there with no reaction at all. I suspect that it was because I was so used to these narcotics compared to my other companions. “Amateurs,” I muttered to myself, “Who can’t take a mind bending drug and still not be acting like the village drunk?” I thought.    

Nevertheless, I was just jealous that they got the amazing high that I couldn’t experience without the help of my friend, the tormented, twisted, large man in a rain coat whom I had acquired a substance a couple days prior. The days were starting to merge together, months became weeks, weeks became days, and days became hours. These “months” felt like just a couple hours. I had wasted my entire drunken summer in a stupor. “Congratulations” I thought to myself. “What kind of fucking moron would waste his entire summer on getting completely messed out of his sane mind?” I had become a complete lunatic before my own thoughts. I let myself believe that I was fine this entire time off the piles of substances that I also let myself believe were legal. “How could’ve you done this to yourself, you suicidal imbecile?” I asked. “How could’ve you taken all of what you worked so hard up to this point to make and just one day decide to throw it all away? What makes you think that you are so high and mighty where you can one day laugh at your people, then not expect to be thrown from your high chair, and spit on by the ones you loved so much?” I thought. I had reached a divine intervention.

I decided to turn my life around from that point on. No more substances that I haven’t tested out before. Of course, which ones haven’t I tested? Since I know how the criminal brain works, why not help out and catch those morons whose lives are dedicated to getting a high every second they are alive. Beat them senseless until they realize that I’m the savior, that I can be the one to save them from their demonic status of habitually getting a quick high. I remembered how people just go out there go get this high, and not experience what they’re actually seeing. Being in a state that you’re not used to, and not noting anything is just a waste. It’s senseless. There is no purpose of living a second life if you do not know what is going on in your own life.

 

 

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