A Shanty before Bedtime
First Shanty
"21 is a Cursed Number"
"Ladies and Gentleman, may I please get your attention?" Heather raised her wine glass up and caught the eyes of all guests. "Today, we are celebrating a magnificent day when my friend's drinking limits will be shattered in one sitting!" There was a cheer from the crowd; Heather stepped aside to let the culprit of the celebration walk up on the stage next to her.
"Would you shut it and sit down, I bet you are already breaking your limits, grandma." I said smirking as I got up from my seat and pushed her with my hip. Heather laughed and rushed over to her comfortable chair landing surprisingly softly on the seat without spilling the precious beverage. I cleared my throat and held up a glass of martini, everyone repeated my gesture after me. "Alright mates, this is it, this is my day, drink all you want!" I said, and without any further pointless words, dried my glass with one shot.
The crowd cheered and started the banquet with my silent permission. My vision became blurry for a second as a new feeling spread over my chest. It was very strange and foreign to my body; even though I had some drinks before, my system was not used to large amounts I gulped down in one sitting.
"Kirsten, come here for a second." Joshua called me by my full name that I disliked sometimes. I glared at him and slowly made my way over to his little company of friends that he dared to invite to my party. I titled my head to the side looking at the men standing around him. They looked a little older than me, but surely enjoyed their time at the bar we picked to celebrate at.
"I told you not to call me that." I hissed at him but only received a wide smile. God, I hated when he grinned like that, my hands always itched to hit him in the face.
"Right, I am sorry, Kirsten." He said making an accent on my name, I growled and clutched my teeth together trying to isolate the anger inside, but a good amount of alcohol in my blood loosened my self-control a little. Joshua saw my angry eyes and put his hand on my shoulder. "Kira, please, I have someone to introduce you to." His smile softened and had a positive effect on me; I relaxed and focused my eyes on the three men on his right side.
"Good evening." One of them took a step forward and greeted me with a nod. He repeated my nickname just to be sure that I would not get angry if he said my real name. I nodded and smiled a little.
"What's up?" I mumbled accepting a glass from Heather that was walking by. She was too occupied with another friend of ours to notice three new faces standing near a table. I took several sips before lowering my glass, my eyes became somewhat cloudy, but I did not want to stop the celebration. If I get wasted, then let it be it; a hangover like this comes once a lifetime, just like my 21st birthday.
"Kira, this is Jack," he pointed at the first man who decided to greet me before others. "This…" He pointed at the second one that was curiously observing me. "…is Clay." The man smiled at me widely with a friendly spark in his eyes. Joshua then turned my attention to the third man in the little group that was standing closer to me. He was a little taller than the rest of the people in our circle, and looked astounding. "That is Haytham." Joshua finally finished proud of knowing each of the men's names, since he had a problem with remembering titles of different individuals before.
"Haytham?" I asked suddenly lighting up. "Haytham Kenway?" I asked slowly in a drunk-like manner. The man gave me a confused look and frowned a little at Joshua.
"Ah, don't mind her." Joshua swung his hand at me. "She is a huge fan of the 'Assassin's Creed' games, and a similar name of a character from the game, turns her wheels the other way." He said almost making fun of my big obsession. I growled and purposely stepped on his foot; Joshua gasped and nearly lost his balance. "Owe, you jerk!" He exclaimed at me but quickly calmed down as I started laughing out loud.
"You weak bastard." I said threw laughter that forced tears to my eyes. I then shook my head and looked at the man. "Am I done here?" I asked taking another sip of the beverage and forcing a step back. Joshua glanced at the men, they nodded their heads at the same time, and then sighed giving me an approving look. "See you later then, lads." I said turning on my heels and walked away staggering from side to side with the empty glass in my hand.
"Haytham Kenway?" The man asked again and looked at Joshua; he only dismissively shook his hand.
"Don't mind her." He said turning and vanishing deeper into the crowds, the trio behind him followed asking for more drinks.
"Heather, come here, you wench!" I said plopping down on the couch, shoving a young kissing couple away from it beforehand. My friend rolled her eyes but quickly left her little group to get over to me. She poured me some more wine into the glass and patiently waited until I took a few sips.
"What's up drunk head? " She asked pouring the same liquid into her half empty glass. Unlike me, Heather was more experienced with drinking, and she knew her limits very well. She was three years older than me, so I always relied on her in moments like this. At certain times I even called her grandma because of her manner of giving me a little friendly lecture if I did something wrong.
"I just met Haytham Kenway." I stubbornly repeated the Templar's name and smiled wide producing a stereotypical for a drunken person hiccup. Heather shook her head and touched my forehead as if checking if I had flu. I lightly slapped her hand away and gulped down some more of the fine wine our personal barber for the night so dearly provided.
"I think you already reached your limit, seeing hallucination on your first night is not a good thing." She said setting her glass down and crossing her arms on her chest.
"Oh shut up, grandma." I said leaning my head back on the couch; the girl smirked and shook her head at me. "Joshua introduced me to a nice looking trio, and one of the men was tagged with a name just like the Grand Master's. What am I supposed to think otherwise?" I said lazily turning my head to look at Heather.
"You always are so obsessed with your Assassins." She said trying to take the glass from me, but I obstinately snatched it away spilling some wine on the couch's surface. Heather sighed heavily and pulled back. "You know that large amount of alcohol can cause a lot of problems on your first time drinking?"
"Nothing is True." I said a wide grin spreading across my lips; Heather rolled her eyes again and desperately tried to get the glass from me. She failed for the fourth time now.
"Kira, please, you can't drink so much, even though it is your 21st birthday." She hissed as I slightly pushed her hands away with my arm.
"Everything is Permitted." I started laughing and throwing the last droplets of alcohol into my throat. Heather covered her face with one hand and shook her head, by her trembling shoulders I could tell that she was laughing too.
"You bitch…" She whispered and we both broke into a loud guffaw. I loved Heather for her open vocabulary that she used when being around me. She never hid her face under fake masks; she was always exposed with her true features of a funny, stubborn, and smart character. I always envied her unlocked doors; she never hid her true feelings and always said what she thought not caring if the truth was painful.
I was the complete opposite of Heather though. I always hid behind grand stone walls and never openly talked about my feelings. I had a huge closet of masks for every life situation, and switched them as often as a courtesan swaps her men. The only time I could really show my stubborn tomboy character is when I was with Heather. She brought out the best and the worst of me, she made me throw the masks on the floor and smile with my own strength. That is how she became my best and only friend.
We shared many interests between each other; we loved to read endlessly and write stories that we would share within our duo. Heather insisted for me to become her editor since I always had an excellent grade in English; she obviously sucked at grammar sometimes, but her manner of talking and writing always amazed me. She wanted to work as a Grammar Nazi for me as well, but I always gave her skeptical looks and asked whose grade in the Language Course was better. She would pout at me and say something smart, but always longed to read the creations of my sick mind.
I mostly wrote about 'Assassin's Creed', but sometimes made exceptions and wrote stories on books, movies, and even Heather's own works. The society called it 'fanfiction', but I and my friend called it: 'Madness of a Strange Duo.' We loved to discuss those topics when we were together alone; we would go to a little corner café, get coffee and some sweets, and then enjoy it all at the park on a soft grass. Sometimes we would get too overly attached to the characters of our masterpieces and even pair them up with someone else outside the story.
I clearly remember Heather going crazy over my character, Francois, from a hot romance I wrote back my freshman year of college. It got published among the students and was very popular, especially for single ladies, like Heather. She broke up with her boyfriend her senior year of high school because the criminal did not share her passion toward Ezio Auditore and Charles Lee. Of course, I would hate a man who can't stand his girlfriend's squealing each time a fine Italian assassin was mentioned. But I rushed to agree with her ex about her views on Lee.
Who in the world would feel something warm toward an ugly bastard like Charles? I hated that character since the very moment he grabbed Kenway's hand and shook it. I hated everything about him, especially that mustache of his. Oh Juno, how much I hated that mustache. Yet Heather ignored my complaining and continued to fall in love with Charles.
"His eyes are so magnifying…" She told me once dreamily dragging her hand over the surface of the cold water in the lake we decided to have a picnic nearby. I only shook my head and told her that Lee was a jerk; Heather only shamelessly stated that she liked it rough. I laughed at her comments sometimes; she never cared of how her words came out of her mouth, whether it was a vulgar joke, or just a simple statement. That is why, again, I chose her as my trusted companion on my messed up road.
"Alright, enough with the insults." I said standing up from the couch and trying to stop my endless laughter. The girl looked at me and wiped small tears from her red face, we both were choking in amusement.
"You are the one who called me an old wench." She said chuckling and causing another wave of happiness in me. "You and your pirate manners need to find a good boat to party at." She said picking herself up and grabbing a bottle of good whiskey that suddenly magically appeared on the table.
"Not a boat, a ship!" I said pointing my index finger at the ceiling with a wide smirk. Heather bit her lip suppressing another bout of laughter so she could pour the drink into the glass properly without a risk of spilling it on the smooth sparkling floor.
"Uh huh, and find yourself a good Edward Kenway from the crowds." She said mocking me and smiling at me as she asked for my glass. I gladly held my goblet up and waited for the transparent liquid to fill it up completely.
"Of course I will. I already found his son." I said trying to keep my hand straight; everything was dancing around me. Being drunk felt amazing, my body was light and ready to spread a pair of wings in any second for a night flight. Heather giggled and pushed me with her hip gently as she finished pouring me the beverage; she placed the bottle on the table and told me that she is going to greet some people before taking me to my own ship.
"I will think of a name for it until you are back." I said happily and received a nod from Heather. The girl quickly left me standing near a wall and rushed over to a nearby group of people that mostly consisted of handsome boys. The nature of mating was calling for her presence, I was not against it, let the old virgin have fun before her death. I laughed at my thoughts and took a sip of my whiskey.
The beverage harshly hit my brain and sent the last clear pinch of reason to hell. I was completely under the trance of alcohol and everything drifted before my eyes. The colors became blurry and bright, they intertwined with each other. The music became louder and distant from me, even though I knew I was standing right next to the speaker. I tried to take a step but lost my balance and, with a help of a miracle, grabbed the wall with my free hand. The glass was immediately sent to the floor, I heard a weak shattering noise somewhere below. My head was throbbing with odd pain that switched from one second warmth. I tried to look around and find Heather, but people turned into dark silhouettes and crying for their help was pointless. Everyone was drunk in this damned hole, everyone except for Heather, who always knew when to stop and help me out. Yet, my dear friend disappeared from my view and all I had left is an automatic instinct of self-protection.
My body's system decided to go on the war with me, and now everything inside of me was storming with great power. I desperately searched for a bathroom and thanked every god existent for a bright sign of women's lavatory that shined on one of the dark painted doors. I entered a privy room that smelled like roses and strawberry and locked the door behind me. My body sent me right to the toilet and I had nothing left, but to puke. Well, what did I suppose to be expecting? It is a natural body's response to a reckless behavior that we, careless young people, risk to do for the sake of celebrating and happy pleasure.
I do not know how much time has passed since I decided to hug the stall and silently thank it for my saved life. I slowly stood up feeling a little better than before. I leaned against the sink and soaked my face in cold water, it slightly woke me up and my vision regained its HD effect back. My eyes focused on the mirror and my wild-looking reflection. My hair was all messed up and face pail as if I just got up from my grave.
"Ah shit." I said sinking my fingers into the running water in the sink. "I am never drinking like this again." I whispered and turned to leave the safe room to find Heather. I need to go home and fall asleep on my warm bed mentally preparing myself for a promised rough morning with coffee and cold shower. I slowly opened the door and immediately was blinded by the bright light. I narrowed my eyes and hissed covering my face with my hands.
"Kirsten!" I heard my friend's loud scream, but it sounded very distant. I opened my eyes and tried to look around, but there was nothing around me but white glow.
"Heather!?" I yelled back and took a step forward into the bright void. "Heather, you never told me that being wasted has such side effects!" I yelled trying to make a joke and calm myself down a little. I was panicking, I was afraid of either being drugged, or turning completely insane. "What the hell is going on?" I did not scream this time, I knew it was worthless, but I miserably took more steps forward shouting for Heather.
My feet suddenly sank into something soft and hot; I looked down and barely recognized golden sand under me. I gulped and started nervously laughing. What a funny joke their tried to pull on me, is this some kind of a gift that is supposed to scare me to death and then give me unreal happiness? But there was no one around; no one appeared hailing "Gotcha birthday girl!"
"Heather this is not funny!" I said walking through the sand and trying not to fall over. I felt very hot suddenly as if I was on the beach in the middle of some kind of a wild island. I saw a tall palm tree in the distant and heard strange noises of the creatures I did not meet in the United States. "Come out, you wench, and tell me that this is all a damn prank!" I exclaimed angrily but nothing changed, the blank surrounding started slowly turning colorful and richer with props. I saw a blue contracted on my left side and heard odd motion noises that only waves produce as they hit against the hard land. I saw tall mountain and rocks covered in green transform before me; I lifted my head up and saw orange sky before me. Creatures with wide white wings flew in a circle near a tall rock and cried something in their language, those where seagulls.
"Where the hell am I…?" I whispered before cracking into a loud cry and calling Heather one more time. I collapsed on the soft warm sand with no strength in me. I gasped for air and tried to hold back the tears that stubbornly tried to break free from the prison of my eyelids. "Heather, please help me." I said sinking my fingers into the sand and passing out immediately under a heavy alcohol influence.
The sky slowly turned dark around me sending everything into the darkness of a loyal night. The wind appeared right away swinging the green in a dance and including my dark blue hair with them. Before completely falling into the hands of a painful slumber, I saw a dark tall figure swiftly approaching me. I did not care who it was, I secretly wanted it to be Heather, but the evil pressure defeated me in the unfair battle without giving me any chance to see who the figure represented.
God, I hate my birthday. I curse the number 21 and myself with it. This is the last time I accept a celebration with bottles present nearby. My, how much I wanted to tell Heather my ship's name…
Too bad I am no longer alive.
To Be Continued…