telling him...

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

it's about a girl who's in trouble

God, I hate these parties, I thought to myself as I stepped into the musty, smoke-filled living room. My brown hair must have known it was a cramped house-party because I could feel it starting to frizz around my face, angry at the humidity in the room. I looked around at the shaggy, lived-in house; a couple was making out on the couch in front of me, despite the fact that there were other people sitting on either side of them. I made a face, crinkling my nose which stung a little from my recent sunburn. There was another couch full of people in the living room, all of them with red plastic drinking cups which signaled to me that the alcohol was freely flowing. I hated parties with a plethora of drunken people; it just meant that I would inevitably end up with someone else's puke on my shoes by the end of the night.

I made my way past the couches to the kitchen and dining room just beyond them. The kitchen was full of people I didn't recognize. Some were doing shots the old-fashioned way, merrily clinking shot glasses and saying cheers before downing throat-singeing liquids. Others, however, were doing body shots on the breakfast bar. A drunk, smiling girl, barely eighteen or nineteen, was spread across the counter top, her t-shirt pulled up far enough to see her pink lace bra. A harem of horny boys crowded around her, awaiting their turn to suck anything at all from her tanned navel; even gasoline wouldn't have fazed them.

Disgusted, I turned toward the downstairs doorway. Having been to Jason's house many times before, I knew what I would find downstairs before I actually ventured there; video gamers and potheads. It was always the same thing, every week: the parties, the girls, the drunken frat guys beached on the front lawn the next morning. I just wanted to get downstairs, find Jason, and tell him what I needed to tell him. Unfortunately, my path was not at all clear. A group of three slutty-looking, already trashed girls were congregated around the doorway, leaning against its frame so as not to look stupid when they wobbled from over indulgence. I'm getting so tired of this, I muttered to myself as I made my way toward them, asking if they could move so I could get downstairs.

"Wah-ever, bitch," one of the girls slurred to me through defiant, vodka teeth.

"Just fucking move, whores. Jesus," I said loudly and with some malice, quite the opposite of slurring my words. It was clearly a bad day to mess with me, but nevertheless, they sized me up, the three of them; two with their stupid mouths open, the slurry one with her bottle-blonde head cocked to the side like I'd slapped her. They must have known that I could've kicked their little, 100 pound asses with my 135, so after hesitating, they parted for me as though I was Moses.

"Nice hair," Slurry girl said, giggling as I tromped past her, down the stairs. I hated girls like that with their, "check out my girl-parts" mini skirts that get their name because they always coincidentally forget to wear panties with them. Nonetheless, Slurry McDrunkass' comment got to me and I ducked into an unused bathroom at the bottom of the stairs. Sure enough, my hair had frizzed out because of the hot, humid atmosphere of the house. I looked a little like Medusa, except with wisps of brown hair sticking out where snakes should be. I cupped my hand under the dinged faucet and wet my hair down, slicking back the untamed hairs. Peering into my reflection, I remembered what the doctor told me that day; All the fainting spells you've been having, the dehydration, the sweats and nausea. They are due to the fact that you are pregnant, Ms. Lowell.

The odor of pot was undeniable in the basement, making me feel sick. It's pungent smell ushered me to the near-empty basement living room. The huge room consisted of only one couch and a floor lamp. A few boys I didn't know were playing video games on the small TV in front of the couch, ignoring me. "You guys seen Jason?" I asked, not really expecting a response because I knew how stoners could be. Ask them where their weed is, they'll plot it out for you on graph paper. But ask them where they put their lighter, and you'll usually get a blank stare...or a random laugh. It's ironic really.

One red-eyed boy squinted at me a moment, turning only briefly from the video game. He pointed down the hallway toward the last room: Jason's room. "Thanks," I murmured, looking at Jason's closed door instead of at the stoners, knowing I wouldn't get a verbal response from them anyway.

I always hesitated when surprising him like this; just showing up at his roommates' parties after I'd gotten off work early. I guess I'd just always hoped he'd be the boyfriend I longed for; the kind who was excited when you surprised him, instead of angry. Usually I walked in on him selling pot to one of his friends, dividing up quantities on scales, divvying the plants based on species. But last time I surprised him, I'd walked in on him with some girl. His room was well lit; she wasn't even sitting near him. And granted they were smoking from his huge glass bong. But they'd been completely alone and he'd been furious with me for not calling first. It had made me, understandably, suspicious.

The door mocked me as I stood only a few inches from its smooth wood surface as I tried to figure out how to tell him. I put my hand up to feel the different patterns in the wood, and ran my fingertips silently across the grooves and bends. I couldn't hear anything but the faint sounds of the video game in the other room. My hand found its way to the door handle and before I could protest, my fingers gripped, turning it clockwise.

His room was draped in black light, his stupid hippie posters reflecting neon patterns. I heard a rustling of sheets. "Jason?" My words felt dry in my throat.

"Heather? What the fuck are you doing here?" His words were harsh but his voice sounded afraid and it confused me. "Another surprise?"

"What the fuck, Jason?" But that wasn't my voice asking the question. It was someone else's. Some girl's voice.

My head got dizzy. I felt I'd gone insane because the only thing going through my head at such a moment was that, if I go home with puke on my shoes now, at least it'd be my own. I wanted to laugh out loud and thought that if I did, I'd have to cup my hand around my mouth to stifle inappropriate guffaws. But the nausea set in and I couldn't breathe. The mixture of pot and humidity stuffed up my lungs, making me feel like my chest was full of Kleenex. In the distance, a voice was questioning Jason, but again, it wasn't my own. She asked him who that girl was, what was he not telling her, what did he drag her into? I didn't hear him answer before I fell. My eyes slowly formed a tunnel of clear vision, surrounded by shimmering stars. The stars were followed by a trail of blackness and suddenly my head went sailing backward, slamming onto the thinly carpeted floor with a sickening pop. Before I blacked out, I saw Jason coming toward me, his naked frame reaching out for me with long, pale arms.

Submitted: December 22, 2008

© Copyright 2022 AllisonHanks. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



Very well done. I think you captured that party scene pretty well with all the immature drunks and stoners. It was subtle yet detailed enough to understand what was going on. Nice work. I've been to parties like that. Only usually at the ones I've seen there is a room where people snort coke. Seeing that sobers you up real quick.

Mon, December 22nd, 2008 2:05am


hmmm, thanks! i've never seen the coke but i believe it when you say you have!

Mon, December 22nd, 2008 8:19am

Steve Littlewood

Great description of the party & characters - vivid and very authentic - good writing. Re the plot - excellent turn in the middle with "fact that you are pregnant". It was very unexpected. To me, the unexpected plot turns keep me reading and characterise a good writer.

I thought the final paragraph needed more of a sting; I knew what was coming. Maybe Jason should have been dead or gay or something thereby sparing Heather's child from a fucked upbringing... no that's too weak; I'm sure you could come up with something better than I can.

Nice vent into another world, though, I really enjoyed it!

Tue, December 23rd, 2008 6:16am


thanks for the advice. i never really finished this one. it definitely wasn't a "baby" of mine where i mull over it for god knows how long and try different endings, beginnings, etc. i think after your suggestion tho, i'll have to give it another shot! thanks again!

Tue, December 23rd, 2008 8:44am


I liked it alot it was very well written but i wish you had added what happened after she blacked out an everything lol oh well it was still very good:)

Fri, January 28th, 2011 10:43pm

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