i

i

 

  a sea of bodies moves in a drunken haze, blurring into one mass as they scream, SCREAM into the chasm of the night. music and sweat hang in the air like oxygen, bass beating at their skulls until they crack. i watch them dance from over in a corner, feeling every pound and throb. why did i come here? the guys i came with are standing around me­�" one getting a handjob against the wall while the others laugh and drink, either talking about pulling or getting locked. they talk, and i laugh with them, but all the time i can feel myself fading in and out. the alcohol rushes to my head as i gaze down at the swaying floor. it swings back and forth, back and forth, flashing in and out of existence with the strobe lighting.

   i look up and realise that i'm a few feet away from the group now. they've moved on, and i'm not really a part of the conversation anymore. i decide to go to the bathroom. there are two ways to get there. one is straight ahead of me, a corridor lined end to end with lads meeting girls, but otherwise empty. the other is through the dance floor, through the mass. i take the second route­�" it'll take more time.

  up close the people there look so happy. they move around me, jumping in explosive ecstasy, like these few hours are all they have to get through the week. i wonder if any of them are the same people here as they are in the outside world. no one talks to me as i make my way through.

  eventually i get out the other end and into the toilets. i stumble over to the metal urinal that lines the wall and take my c**k out. my piss drifts from side to side, clanging against steel and trickling its way into the hole on the other side. a group of lads stand off to the side, downing the naggins they sneaked in in short, aggressive bursts. i leave and slowly wade my way through the crowd back to the group.

  Scanno man, any moths?

  they remain fixed in place for another ten minutes, content to talk about drinking and pulling all night. i need to get more drunk. yeah, i was feeling better an hour ago. i go up to the bar and ask for a vodka and coke. i down it in one gulp and buy another. after that i look over at the guys and decide to go to the toilet. i take the long way again, lingering a little longer this time, watching their faces bounce up and down with the beat. after taking another piss i stand out in the smoking area for a while and head back to the guys. this time they don't acknowledge my return. a couple more have gone off with girls and eoin is trying to wake up the one that was wanking him earlier, but the rest are still there. i don't pay any attention to what they're saying, the f*****g a******s. their conversation is white noise, and the music is white noise, and i'm just drifting through the buzz.

  i spend the next hour repeating the same cycle�" going to the bathroom, buying drinks, standing around outside. eventually i don't even piss, i just stand in a cubicle for a couple of minutes and then leave. and every time i go through the dance floor, feeling the people discharge their energy and thoughts, soaking it all in. i stop. i stay. they engulf me, a flood rushing against me until i'm forced to give in and it washes me away.

  then all of a sudden, a girl topples over into me. i catch her and prop her back up. she keeps bouncing and jumping like nothing happened. then it happens again. her skin is soft. this time she turns around and looks up at me.

  HEY, DON'T I KNOW YOU?! AREN'T YOU THE GUY WHO�"

  i wasn't.

  HI, I'M EMMA!

  she looks a little younger than me and only comes up to my chest in height. even now she's stopped moving, her face is flushed with the spirit of the party. she's wearing tight black shorts and a top you can see her bra underneath.

  SO WHAT YEAR ARE YOU IN?

  sixth, you?

  FIFTH! SO ARE YOU HAVING A GOOD TIME?

  she speaks rapidly to fill space, punctuating everything with meaningless giggles.

  I AM SO LOCKED RIGHT NOW!

  she pulls a naggin of Malibu out from under her bra.

  YOU WANT SOME?

  i take the bottle, making a smile and acting enthusiastic, and start drinking. I keep going, going­­�" going�" going until she grabs it back.

  DON'T DRINK ALL OF IT!

  she takes a swig, then laughs again. we talk for a few minutes. she yells above the crowd and into my ear, while i agree and then say something she can't really hear. she's not very interesting.

  THANKS FOR CATHCHING ME, I DON'T THINK I WANNA DANCE ANYMORE! HELP ME GET OUT OF HERE!

  she starts moving off in the direction of the toilets. i go with her, my hand around her waist, feeling the way her top clings to her skin. we get to the edge and she turns back to me.

  THANK YOU!

  she shouts in a little half-melody.  she leans in and flails her arms around me. i breath in her neck and caress the small of her back. as she pulls away i fall into her lips and we start kissing. it happens in one fluid motion without any build up, and neither of us really reacts. we keep going for about thirty seconds, then without talking we find our way over to the corridor filled with couples meeting.

  we seamlessly slip into a free space and sway into each other again. i have an erection now, but even still, the sensations are being dulled by the alcohol , and it's not like i hoped it would be. when was the last time you met a girl sober? can you even remember it? i reach into her bra and clutch at a breast, trying to get something out of there. her tongue seems numb to me now, like all the taste and pleasure are gone and just a lump remains, clogging my throat, constantly reminding me of how alone i am right now. i take my hand out from her bra and move down, past her stomach and onto her shorts. i fumble around trying to get to a button, but i can't get them off. she starts to squirm and moves my hand onto her back.

  we keep going. her tongue chokes me now, laughing at me as i fall further and further into myself. i press her tight against me. i can't breath. my hand moves back down and starts rubbing against her crotch, reaching for something to hold onto, for some sensation to take me out of this hole. this time she jerks away.

 

  Can we, not?

 

  i can barely look at her. she's so close, a cruel parody of what i wanted.

  yeah, yeah, sure...

 

  there's a long silence where neither of us speaks.

 

  so, what do you want to do now?

 

  I don't know...

  any interest she had is completely gone. she wanted to have a little fun, and now she's just irritated.

 

  you can go if you want.

  A�" are you sure?

  yeah, go.

 

 she backs away and gives and awkward wave before turning around and going back to her friends. to either side of me people are losing themselves in one another, kissing and f*****g and living and being.

  now my guts scream. the numbness turns into shattering pain, my throat is ripped out from my body and no matter how much i cry, no sound escapes�" ricocheting around inside of me and tearing me apart instead. i can still smell her all over me. why do i do this? Why?!

  i need to get out of here, away from these people. i run into the bathroom and seal myself in a cubicle. the walls close in around me until there's nothing but me and a vomit-stained toilet. looking down, i realise that i'm starting to piss myself. i quickly jerk my c**k out, spraying everywhere. i feel the warm urine soaking my socks and shoes, and finally i notice something. a giant puddle on the floor, at least an inch tall and spreading into all the different stalls. hundreds of people's drunken piss all coming together, growing over the course of the night. and now me. And for a brief moment, before the emptiness returns, I feel a part of something.

 

 

that night i dreamt that i was bathing in the puddle. it engulfed me, and i could wash myself and swim in it until my legs started to disintegrate, and i descended and dissolved and screamed and smiled and cried until my whole body was made of urine, and i joined all the others who had decayed with me...

  

Author's Note

The grammar mistakes are intentional. I'm trying to really get inside this characters mind, which involves certain stylistic techniques trying to hit at and represent emotions (like in Eraserhead or Emily Dickinson's poetry). What I'd really like to know is if I've created something that successfully portrays a specific emotion that I've felt before. Thanks

Reviews

[barleygirl]

This story is sickeningly sad & raw & realistic. After reading your other story yesterday, which was exceedingly precise, gradually escalating, & cleverly crafted, this feels a little like a disappointment . . . but I also understand you also crafted this to be a sloppy disgusting parody of what many people do for "entertainment" . . . a never-ending search to fill up an undefined void. I admire someone who isn't afraid to go into the darkest corners of human nature, painting things realistically, but not "fake" dark like some bleak writes can be. And I also can see that you are imaginative in approaching this similar topic in multiple ways using vastly different viewpoints. Interested to see what else you're offering.

[Kim Black]

Thanks. I totally understand why this could be disappointing. I'm actually kind of happy about that in a way because I didn't want this to have any comedic undertones. It's meant to capture a more wholly dark and sad feeling than the other, completely dedicated to life at its worst. With that said, I'm a little bit tired of this style at the moment, so I think what I write next will be more in line with 'Nice Guy' (I find heightened reality very exciting). Still, thanks for your thoughts.

[PaintedBirdy]

hey kim! i enjoyed this story, and your style of writing. the emotion i get out of this is that the narrator wants to get out of his own head and connect with other people, first through alcohol and dancing, then with Emma. but with Emma he wants to connect with her and goes too far too soon, and the emotion i feel then as a reader is rejection and self-mortifying guilt. basically what i felt myself the first few times I was ever rejected, and i asked myself, why?, too. so thanks for reminding me about that!! kidding. but overall i think it's a good story and good writing. i look forward to reading more of your works.

[Kim Black]

Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed it!