The final swig is what did it for me. It was at that point I lost any chance of retaining my inhibitions that night.
I revelled in the sensation of the drink pouring down my throat, and the more I drank, the better it got. It was a real contrast to how I had begun the night, cringing and gagging at every sip I took of the bitter liquid.
"Jesus Izzy, how can stomach this shit?" I choked to my friend, who was busy chugging the remains of her fourth bottle. In my years of going out, I had become accustomed to drinking sweeter drinks, or what my friends liked to refer to as 'lame strawberry crap'. Not that I cared though, as by the end of most nights we all ended up in pretty much the same state. It was impossible to understand Izzy's slurred reply, but it was clear what she meant when she tipped up the bottom of my glass, forcing me to drink. I quickly found myself with an empty cup and a gloriously giddy head, and before I knew it, I was pouring myself another. And another. And another...
Earlier that evening I had no intention of even going to the party. Instead I made an attempt of actually studying, keeping my phone face down on the desk to stop myself getting distracted by any inevitable drunk calls and texts.
'Psychology: the scientific study of the human mind and its functions, especially those affecting behaviour in a given context...'
I chewed on my pencil and rubbed my eyes countless times. It was becoming increasingly difficult to not notice the constant vibrations that kept coming from my mobile.
'It can be traced back to the late 17th century from the modern Latin word: psychologia. Blah blah blah blah….'
Finally, I swiped it off the desk and peered at the messages that lit up my screen.
'Plz come out? :('
'It's not the same without u!'
'Amber, Come 2 mine, we haven't left yet! But wear something suitably sexy, apparently the whole football team will b there!'
I sighed and glanced one last time at my pitiful notes, trying to muster up any possible willpower I had to stop myself giving up, but that final text from Izzy was too difficult to ignore. The temptation of partying with the dreamiest boys in school was, rather embarrassingly, what pushed me over the edge. I slammed my revision book closed with a satisfying 'thump!'
After a quick change (into something 'suitably sexy', of course) and a spritz of perfume, I darted over towards her house across the road. All I had to do was follow the smells of cheap wine and cigarettes until I found myself at Izzy's door. I pounded my fist against the wood, certain that the girls would barely hear me over the droning music that was coming from their side of the door. Sure enough, it took four knocks before the door swung open, and I was greeted by Izzy and several others girls squealing and jumping on me excitedly.
They were, for lack of a better word, absolutely shitfaced.
"Oh my god, you're all such lightweights" I laughed, as one of them threw her arms around my shoulders and hiccupped loudly into my ear. I could even hear the faint sound of one person vomiting in the bathroom over the heavy beat of the music.
"You've missed out on a lot of drinkin'" giggled Izzy, obviously trying hard to retain her balance as she shifted her weight constantly. "You gotta lot of catching up to do…"
She held up a clear bottle that was filled with vodka (and what smelled like several other spirits) and shook it in my face, causing the liquid to splash against the glass.
"Well, if you insist…" I sighed, before snatching it from her hand and swigging it a few times. I was suddenly overcome by an immense urge to vomit and removed the bottle from my lips, doubled over, and began to wretch.
Every girl in the room turned to face me, and also began to double over, but in their cases, with laughter.
"Who's the lightweight now?!" I heard someone screech, as they all rolled around the room, the combination of their high alcohol blood content and my humiliation proving too much to handle. Even the girl who was throwing up in the bathroom found the time to stick her head around the door and join in.
"Would you all just shut up?" I exclaimed, finally straightening my back enough to cross my arms in disapproval. Izzy, who had been laughing the hardest, shook her head and wiped a tear away from her eye. I would've told her that in the process of doing so, she also succeeded in wiping away half of her bright pink eye makeup, but I still couldn't help but feel bitter about her laughing at me, so chose to let her discover it for herself.
"Calm down Amber!" she breathed between giggles. "We're only joking, it was just soooooo funny!" The whole room descended into sniggers again.
With that, my grip tightened on the bottle that was still in my hand, and I held my nose, before bringing the bottle back towards my mouth and taking several, much bigger, gulps. My eyes and throat were burning, but it was all worth it when I finally swallowed my final mouthful, and noticed that the room had fallen into a satisfying quiet. A few girls were even clapping at my efforts.
"So, are we partying or not?" I grinned, wiping my mouth.
The only word to describe the party was grimy. It had taken us twenty five minutes to drive there, and the journey hardly seemed worth it when we all poured out of the taxi, only to be greeted by a small, worse for wear house, that looked as though it would fall apart at any second with the amount of noise and movement that could be seen and heard inside of it. There were barely any other houses surrounding it, instead it sat next to a dark forest. We all began to make our way to the door.
"Twenty quid to anyone who can get lucky in that forest tonight" snorted Izzy as our heels began to click on the path. I rolled my eyes, but noticed a few of the girls around me exchange glances and raise their eyebrows, as though they were actually interested in earning the money.
It was times like this which made me question the kind of people I surrounded myself with.
"Whose party is this anyway?" I asked as we reached the door. It seemed everyone at school had been talking about it for weeks, but never mentioned who was actually throwing it.
"I have no idea!" exclaimed Izzy, and everyone began to giggle. I furrowed my eyebrows and glanced around at everyone else, expecting them to have the same reaction as me. It was as though all the tipsiness had been knocked out of me, and I was suddenly uncomfortable with where we were. However instead, they all were staring expectantly at the door, waiting for it to open.
Was I the only one with any sanity? Didn't anyone have any instincts? Common sense?
But before I could protest, the door of the house shot open, and like a tidal wave, the girls around me surged through the opening, carrying me with them.
We dispersed ourselves around the house, trying to mingle with our fellow partygoers. It didn't take me long to notice that I hardly knew anyone there, and I began to wave goodbye to any hope I had that the football team would be knocking on the door at any second.
The drunker of my friends didn't spare any time with finding a place to really party. Dusty, mouldy furniture was pushed to one side to fashion a makeshift dancefloor, and soon enough nearly everyone congregated to it, moving and grinding to the music. I felt a hand tap on my shoulder, then slide down my arm and grab my hand, dragging me in its direction. I turned to see Izzy looking at me impatiently, and I felt her yank my arm once more.
"Come on, let's dance! This is my favourite song" she pleaded. While her eyes were bloodshot and seemed unable to focus completely on me, it was impossible to ignore how excited she was as the tune blared through the speakers (that had been precariously balanced on the furniture positioned around the room). I conceded, and allowed her to pull me into the crowd.
I had never been sweatier in my life, and it was not a pleasant experience. As the night had gone on, everyone around me had gotten progressively more intoxicated (on what exactly, I wasn't sure of), and the concept of boundaries had seemed to go out the window.
The whereabouts of all my friends was certainly not known to me, and the only person in the mass of clammy bodies that had begun to suffocate me that I was familiar with was Izzy, but she was too preoccupied with sticking her tongue down some boy's throat to pay me any attention. The man in question had greasy black hair and a questionable tribal tattoo running along one of his forearms, and was a far cry from any of the boys Izzy had showed an interest in in the past. But by the way she was swaying and struggling to hold herself upright by herself, I could only guess that the amount of alcohol in her system meant she wasn't being picky with her choice of suitor for the night.
I could only roll my eyes and dance by myself, and considering that I too was certainly not sober, this didn't prove too difficult. I felt the heavy beat of the music pulse through me, and finally began to relax (for the first time that whole night) as I swung my hips and flipped my hair in time with the song.
But suddenly, I felt an unfamiliar grip tighten around my waist and spin me away from the center of the dancefloor, before a pair of slimy lips met my own. The callous hands that had been clamped around my stomach dragged themselves to my behind, and unceremoniously slapped it. My first instinct was to scream as I felt a tongue sloppily enter my mouth, but instead I found myself pushing and hitting the body that had pressed itself up against me away.
The foul tastes of whisky and cigarettes lingered in my mouth.
"Alright babe, I was just lookin' for a good time!" slurred a raspy voice, as I forced the stranger away from me.
"I'm not your fucking babe" I stammered at the disgusting man, still acutely aware of the sensations of his hands and mouth that had been on me not seconds before.
"Don't be so frigid" he spat back at me, his drunk eyes still looking me up and down.
"Next time, asshole" I retorted with an equal amount of venom in my voice, "consider a thing called consent".
Before I had time to continue, he had turned on his heels and stumbled away. I checked until he was out of sight before I emerged from the shadows he had forced me into.
I realised that in the process of being dragged to the side of the room, I had lost my direct view of Izzy, and desperately I scrambled back to my previous spot to check my friend was still there and safe. However when I glanced over to where she had been before, I was horrified to discover that the space on the old-looking sofa that she had before been sat in with her greasy-looking companion was now occupied by a different (though seemingly equally drunk and enamored) couple.
Though I was drunk, I was quickly overcome with a distinct fear as to where Izzy had been taken. She had no idea who this guy she was with was, or better yet, what he wanted. It had been clear earlier that she was in no fit state to defend herself if things took a nasty turn, and the last thing she needed was a creepy stranger making moves on her that she would be too drunk to rebuff.
I scanned the dancefloor and surrounding areas, but she was nowhere to be seen. With my concern rising, I summoned up all the soberness I had in me, and stormed out of the room, making sure not to collide with any of the intimidating looking partygoers, who seemed a lot stranger and scarier now that I wasn't as giddy with excitement with being at the party.
Somehow, I had managed to investigate all of the rooms in the house while fighting the urge to curl up in a ball and be sick (by now I wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol or worry). In the back of my mind, I knew there was one place that I had yet to explore, but my stomach churned at the idea of it.
Swallowing my fear (and the bile that I was sure I could feel rising in my throat), I walked out the front entrance of the house, with the door somehow having been torn off during the party and now being led in the thick hedges that surrounded the home, and headed towards the forest. While I certainly was not the only one heading in there, as I noticed couples making out against trees that sat on the outskirts, and passed out drunks lying in the grass, I couldn't shake the feeling of anxiety as I continued deeper in the darkness, horribly alone.
I now swung my heels in my hand, as I had grown sick of them sinking into the mud with each step I took, but the feeling of the ground between my toes was the least of my worries.
"Izzy?!" I shouted. "Where are you?" My voice felt scratchy as I continued to yell for my friend. My vision was hazy, but I kept a desperate look out for her familiar figure among the trees, which seemed to be getting taller and wider.
Though I was sure I would be sobering up by now, I felt drunker than ever, and the coordination between my mind and body slowly decreased. My feet were dragging, and my mind was growing more frantic.
My head began to spin as I pursued further and further, and the earth which I stepped on felt sharper and harder on the soles of my feet.
"Izz!" where the only words I could muster, as my eyelids grew heavier, and my stomach began doing somersaults. I had never felt more claustrophobic, and suddenly felt restricted in my skinny jeans, which clamped over my legs and waist.
Not looking where I was stepping, I tripped on the unsteady ground, and fell hard onto the forest floor. The lack of strength in my body meant I couldn't muster the power to put out my arms in front of me, meaning my head hit the ground first. I was knocked out cold.
The last thing I remember was the faint cry of a familiar voice, calling my name. But they sounded as though they were a million miles away, and by then, I had already drifted out of consciousness.