Chapter 1- Broken Heels and Drunken Deals.
Shit man, we're gonna be in so much trouble. Its half 12 and George's parents have got be back from their meal by now. They don't even know she's out.
"We have to keep moving man" I tell George, holding back her hair in knotty clumps while she chucks up into the grass. I put her arm around my shoulders and try to hoist her up to her feet again, turning my head away to try and avoid the smell of vomit.
"W.. we havn't left though..?".
Jesus Christ she's off her head. I should have been looking out for her. God knows what she's got down her throat, it could have been anything.,
"George come on. You're dead when you get back if you don't hurry". I notice she's missing one of her heels, so getting her to stand is near to damn impossible.
"I can.. m.. manage myself!" She starts to try and wriggle out of my grasp and pushes me from near her. "Get off." She takes a precautious step and immediately falls to the floor with a thud and I swear I heard a loud crack. Great. Her other heels broke.
She laughs out hysterically obviously too numb to feel any pain. She rolls onto her back. I see her knees are badly grazed from the tarmac, blood in trickling down her shins, shining in the harsh light of the street lamp above.
"Shit George come on I'm serious." I can feel the anger rise through me. More so because of seeing the sorry state she's got herself in. I check my phone, 12:45. Yep, we're fucked.
I decide it might be best to try and hitch a lift from a friend still at the party, if they're still sober. The problem is that I have no idea where we are, there are no houses just fields on either side, oh and the street light that was illuminating the road in front for about 2 metres. Not helpful if you want to be rescued.
I walk a little further on so that I could actually hear the ringing of the phone over George's laughter, still on the floor. Every single one of them went to voicemail. I stand and contemplate the situation we are in.. lost, in the middle of nowhere, with no one to call. Great.
I'm about to suggest phoning George's parents to come pick her up, until I heard the shrill screaming of tires on tarmac.
I whip around to see a lorry coming right our way, the bitch was, George managed to crawl right in front of it.