Two days without a parent in sight, that can’t be too bad, I have only been able to dream about it before. But I’m not really in the mood to do anything at the moment; I could never have a party while my granny is lying in a hospital with the cold feeling of death knocking on her door. All I have on my mind is that before we know it she could be in a better place, without the stress and pain of life. But it would be a tragedy to loose someone so close to my heart. I couldn’t bear to see her go six feet under. But she may recover; maybe I am just being too pessimistic, actually she will recover….. and my life has to go on.
That’s half a day wasted already, if I am having a party I have to work on it fast, no more sitting around feeling sorry for myself, I have to cheer myself up, how about I text Katie Guinness “Party 2nite round mine, spread the word” she’s the biggest gossip in the school, it’ll spread like wild fire! If this is going ahead I am going to have to clear the house of all of the valuable furniture otherwise but the end of the night it’ll be fit for fire wood. But I’m starting to have second thoughts already I remember the last words they said to me “We are going to have to trust you at some point in your life, and it may as well be now.” I wish I never sent that text but there’s no backing out of it now it probably already spread to china already by word of mouth!
It’s now just gone eight o’clock my first visitors are due to arrive any minute, I still have a queasy stomach, what if my parents catch me? I suppose that is part of the fun and anticipation, at the moment I’m just going through with it because of the amount of adrenaline pumping through my body, I’ve now past the point of no return, what’s done is done. “Ding dong” that’s the doorbell, I had better answer it, it’s probably my first guest. I slowly lurch over towards the door, flick the catch open and they’re in.
The party gets of to a flying start, everyone’s co-operating and getting along there are even people dancing, so far so good there are no smashed glasses or anyone throwing up, and by the looks of it, nothing is broken. Yet. It’s coming on for eleven o’clock, and the door bell rings, I am over the other side of the room and I have to try and squeeze through the crowds that have now congregated in my lounge. I flick the latch and the door fly’s open….. I don’t recognize their faces but they barge past me and walk towards the crowd, I notice one of them has a bottle of Vodka in his hand, at that point I no it’s going to turn ugly.
An hour passes and I notice a few people lying on the sofa looking to be quite ill, they are lying in a pool of sick and one of them still has a unopened can of beer in his hand, my head starts to spin and I start to worry about my parents coming home early, what the consequences would be and if they would ever trust me again, I scan the room with my eyes and it looks as though I’m the only sober person here. I barge through the crowd trying to get to the kitchen to clean up the mess, or at least get rid of the retched smell of bile. I see a clear opening where I can squeeze through the crowd to get to the other side of the room, I then felt a small prick on my arm but I felt nothing of it and persuaded myself its pins and needles.
It’s now getting late and every one has gone home, I step into the lounge and the smell of bile greets me, the room looks like a bomb has hit it, at least that’s what my mum would say if she saw the state of the house. Well right after screaming at me and grounding me for a year. My eyelids are starting to feel heavy; I will put the cleaning of until tomorrow when I have a bit more energy.
“Beep beep” “beep beep” “beep beep.” I roll over in my bed and catch a quick glimpse of the clock, its 10 o’clock. I spring out of bed and poke my head around my parent’s door. Yes, they aren’t in yet, that gives me enough time to clear up the mess downstairs. I quickly walk back into my room and slip the jeans on I was wearing last night, and in doing so I feel something in my pocket, like a business card. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a little piece of card. I read it four or five times because I couldn’t believe my eyes, my jaw dropped. The card read “Welcome to club HIV”.
At the point I looked at the card I felt every emotion I had ever felt in my life all get crammed into 10 seconds, my emotions went wild and I couldn’t control my anger, fear nor sorrow. I dropped the card and my vision went blurry, I didn’t know what to feel I felt both a river of raging anger like white water rapids tearing up my insides. But also deep sorrow, I looked down at the card again and a stream of tears trickled down my face, the tears landed on the card like little droplets of rain hitting your cheek for the first time. The tears scattered blurring the ink on the card until it was barely visible.
I couldn’t help thinking if only I didn’t have the party. My life would be normal and care free like any sixteen year olds life should be. If only my grandma wasn’t in hospital and my parents didn’t go to Manchester none of this would of ever happen. But it is no one else’s fault but mine and I have to carry the burden around with me for the rest of my life, and just because of a stupid little thing I did when I was sixteen. I just thought it would make bigger. But no one night has ruined the rest of my life. I have now lost the meaning of my life, and at the age of sixteen that it a serious tragedy.
My parents came home that afternoon I had cleared up the house and they didn’t suspect a thing, the house was like it was when they left it, I just wish I could say the same about myself! It turned out grandma was fine she is now recovering at home, life is a funny thing, I no I am slowly dying at the age of sixteen and I no I won’t recover, but two days ago my grandma was the person with death lurking around the corner but now its ever so different. Whereas my grandma is eighty years old and she’s still fighting for her life.