DROWING

Song Rec: I found — Amber Run.

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tw: suicide, mentions of alcohol and sexual intercourse.

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E L S P E T H

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I'm drowning. I'm metaphorically and literally drowning, right here in my house, my bathroom, and my tub.

Why? You may probably ask. Everyone has something to hold on to, at least something to keep them going, something worth living for.

The only thing I had to hold on to are the pieces of my ruined dreams, hopes, and a future. Worthless things that once meant so much to me until I threw it all away with a reckless mistake.

3 months prior.....

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"Happy birthday, babe." Alan greeted, placing a soft kiss on my cheek that traveled to my lips.

His lips lingered on mine for a few seconds before he pulled away. My cheeks reddened slightly, and I looked at my black loafers, tugging at the hem of my blazer.

"You're cute." he complimented with a sly smirk, causing me to blush even harder.

I'm still reeling with excitement from the scented birthday card, chocolate, small beautiful rose bouquet, and necklace he got me early that morning.

I've been dating him for a year now, and he still had this effect on me.

Probably because he was my first and hopefully my last, but people do say that young love isn't real and it's all infatuation.

Today, I clocked eighteen, a legal adult, and I'm pretty sure that the love I have for Alan isn't ephemeral.

We stepped out of school, hands intertwined, ignoring the stares. We were the power couple—the envy of our peers.

 I and Alan set the standard for every couple in the school premises with our good looks, deep chemistry, my brains, his strength in sports, our popularity, and social status as kids of top conglomerate families.

Alan escorted me to my car, where my driver was patiently waiting for me.

"Okay, bye." I smiled at him, and he pulled me into an embrace.

"I'll pick you up by ten, don't forget our plan," he whispered, and I hummed on his shoulder in affirmation.

"I love you." I grinned sheepishly.

"I love you even more." he beamed at me before releasing me to meet my chauffeur.

I greeted the driver and stepped into the car, trying to compress the excitement that I would be celebrating my birthday this year with the person I loved the most.

He had it all arranged even before the D-day and surprised me with the good news when he gave me my present.

My family usually held birthday parties, which ended up being a business meeting or a means of making more allies. I barely had any friends to invite except Sally, who wasn't back from her grandfather's funeral in China.

My parents didn't know about Alan… yet. I planned on explaining our relationship to them soon. For now, only the driver, Sir Bacchus, knew, and he promised to keep it a secret since it wasn't his responsibility to tell.

This year, luck seemed to be on my side as my parents were both on business trips, leaving me and my half-sister, Heather in the care of my aunt, who was barely at home.

Once home, I devoured Stella's (the cook) pastries, trying to quell my nerves. 

Time crawled as I prepped for the night, only then did I realize that in my vast bedroom-sized closet, I had nothing to wear. The fashion emergency line to dial was Sally, who picked up the video call after a few rings.

"Good morning, b_tch." she gracefully greeted from her end, where she was on her vanity, applying her morning skincare routine.

The time zone difference made her send her birthday wishes yesterday, a digital birthday card with the title, 'Today You Become A Woman'.

I placed my iPad on my dresser as I proceeded to increase the room temperature with the remote control for the thermostat, "Well, good evening from here, I need your help."

Sally leaned closer to use the phone screen as a mirror to brush her eyelashes with a mascara wand, "Spill."

"I'm going out with Alan this evening to a place called Libertine, and I don't know what to wear, I—"

Sally gasped, "Alan's taking you to the Libertine's?"

"Yes, he is. Do you know where that is?"

" Dress slutty!" she exclaimed.

I took a deep breath. "You think I should?"

"Absolutely. You'll turn heads. It's your first nightclub party, Elsie." She announced.

A club? Alan was taking me to a club. I couldn't help but smile that I was finally age-appropriate.

The next thirty minutes was spent scrambling through my wardrobe, and finally, I settled for a black body-con dress with sheer black sleeves, applied light against Sally's will, wore excessive perfume, and finally, a pair of heels.

Just as he said, Alan texted me by 10 pm, and I snuck out through the backdoor with my heels in hand, where I found him, leaning on his Porsche with his phone in hand. His eyes lit up when he saw me, and he bit his lower lip seductively.

"You look beautiful tonight." he complimented, opening the car door for me.

"Thanks." I felt fulfilled that my look satisfied him.

The club boomed with music and energy as we entered. Lights flickered, casting colorful shadows across the dance floor filled with people. My stomach tightened with anticipation.

Alan led me to the VIP area, where his friends awaited, each with their date.

One of them raised a toast to me, and Alan seemingly passed me a shot with a smile, "Hey guys, it's her first shot!" He announced. The group cheered, clapping their hands to motivate me as I carefully placed the rim of the cup on my painted lips.

I drank it immediately, scrunching my nose as it trickled down my throat. I got an applause and extra cheers to keep drinking. The shot boosted my confidence level, and I let Alan pour more shots until I lost count.

The next thing I could remember was Alan taking me to a room as I staggered with his hands around my waist. Everywhere was blurry, and he was suddenly looking funny.

"You're drunk." he said, and I laughed. Drunk? How can I be drunk? And why was it very funny to hear?

He opened the door to the room and helped me sit on the bed after which he shut the door.

"Alan, it's hot in here." I whined.

"I'll make it cool, my love." He smiled, cupping my face in his hands and placing a kiss on my lips. I kissed him back gently and wrapped my hands around his neck while he reached out for my dress zipper only to stop midway.

"Sh*t, I forgot something. Stay here and don't move."

"Okay," I replied with a laugh, laying on the bed as I watched his blurry figure leave.

The door opened again, and I heard a voice; Alan was probably trying to impress me with his fake Russian accent again.

"Let's get this done with." He said sharply, his figure approaching me.

I stood up wobbly, "That was quick." I giggled. He cut me off with a kiss.

This, however, wasn't our regular light kisses; it felt like something dead in me had resurrected. His mouth tasted so good and intoxicating, robbing me of my sense of reasoning and propelling me to kiss him back as we both explored each other's mouths while he led me to bed.

I knew he didn't want something more than kisses this time around, and I had unconsciously prepared for this day.

He slid his hand under my thigh, sending a radiation of pleasure through my spine as he kissed various parts of my body.

"You taste so good." he groaned in a deep voice.

His pleasant cinnamon scent filled my nostrils, and I found it pleasing that he wore a different perfume for this day.

With him on top of me and his shirt roughly undone by me in desperation to get more of him, I wrapped my hands around his neck as he undressed me. His arms were quite stronger than I remember, his body felt heftier than before.

Momentarily, the intoxicating kisses he offered served as sedatives to hold in my moans and his groans as he carefully took my innocence for the rest of the night.

The next morning, I yawned loudly as I tried to sit up, only to wince in pain thereafter. I was still very sore from last night's activities, and my head banged loudly, aftereffects of the alcohol.

Clutching my head as my eyes scanned the room for Alan. I covered my bare body with the blood-stained sheets, my lips curled into a smile, recalling the night before. Sally was right, intercourse was much better if done with the right person, but I couldn't find Alan in the room.

His clothes weren't there either, just my dress and underwear, which he ripped off me last night. Maybe he left? My heart stung a little; I had imagined waking up in his arms if we ever did this, but here I was, alone.

Dragging myself to the bathroom and struggling to arrange my disheveled self, trying to use my hair to cover up the hickeys he left on my neck.

A warmth settles in my stomach, the same feeling of when he kissed me resurfacing.

After I got ready, I found my purse on a cabinet and grabbed my phone, only to see multiple missed call notifications from Alan and a text from Stella, [open your door, dear] it read.

That didn't bother me row, why was Alan calling me if I was with him last night?