Chapter 3 Three

REVISED CHAPTER 2: A Drunken Mistake (1)

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Stupid things happen because of stupid decisions. I am aware of that… To some extent.

Kimberly’s vision was hazy as if she was looking through a window during a stormy day. She tried not to stumble as she walks to a wobbly path, her legs crisscrossing as she walks. She swayed, like a twig against the wind, threatening to snap at any given moment.

“Where in the world I am?” She slurred her words, completely out of it. She can feel her head throbbing.

‘Fuck. Can I get this shit out of my shoulder?’ She complained in her head. Kimberly thought of any possible method to snap her head away and at the same time keep her alive and breathing.

‘Is that even possible?’ Amidst the throbbing pain in her head, she still managed to think. ‘How can I breathe without a head? …You know what? Fuck it.’

She expelled any thoughts in her head and started to focus on reality, squinted in an attempt to see what was ahead. “Why is the road wobbling like a shitty worm? I need to go hooommeeee.”

Kimberly stepped on the supposedly straight and unblemished road, perfectly confident on her foot. But the moment it stepped on it; it gave out. Like a dead vegetable, her whole body wrestles against the road.

“Ooff!” Kimberly barely managed to not let her head hit the pavement. She put both of her palms against the paved road, stopping exactly a centimeter away from it. The impact made her stomach heave and felt the acidic sensation coming up from to her throat. She groaned, the strength in her arms gave out, and she soon lay on the ground.

“Are you drunk?” Someone stopped right at her front. Kimberly raised her head and saw the ugliest nails and smelliest feet she had ever seen and smelled. Her face contorted, unable to hide the disgust.

Kimberly gagged. ‘Get away from me or I’ll pour this all out to your ugly feet!’

“Don’t!” As if the man—oh yeah, it’s a man—read her thoughts out loud, he backed away quite… Dramatically.

His innocent reaction triggered something inside her. ‘This shit thinks I also want to vomit on his feet! Who does he think he is?! Who does he think he is for me to waste my precious—’

“Kimberly, don’t puke here! It’s the streets, goddammit!” Kimberly can hear the panic in his voice.

Like a crook, she began laughing. Her laugh echoed throughout the quiet neighborhood. Kimberly doesn’t know, she just feels like laughing at him.

“Wait here, I will call Harley!”

“No…!” Hearing a familiar name, she tried stopping him from calling her mother. She failed as he galloped away faster than a horse she had ever seen. He must have really wanted to run away from here.

Soon, she remained there, alone. In silence, she watched the deserted road.

“Argh!” The coolness and the roughness of the ground made her uncomfortable. She groaned and pushed herself from the ground. Kimberly’s palms stung and the headache she was suffering from worsen. The urge to puke all over the place came back again and she forced herself to gulp it down, but—

Fuck.

“Bleechhhh,” She couldn’t. Kimberly hurled everything out of her stomach. Emptying out the dinner she had and the snacks she was eating while drinking. She puked for who-knows how many minutes. What she did made a miracle, her state improved after it and the clouds in her head cleared up a bit.

‘I am thinking now… A little.’ Her rationality came back. Maybe.

Kimberly cursed under her breath. She fought the urge to lie down next to the disgusting thing she made. “I won’t be drinking again. This suck.”

She made a declaration that she knew she would break. A futile struggle.

Kimberly sighed loudly, finally coming back to her senses.

The road was not as wobbly as she thought it was, and her eyesight regain its 20/20 vision. She doesn’t feel like laughing at anything anymore, but her head was still throbbing. The night was silent like a graveyard, the moon hung up the sky, looking as big as ever. It outshone the stars that were behind his back, but nonetheless, they were shining.

The moon reminded her of a bread that she baked earlier this morning. Her stomach growled.

Kimberly chuckled.

No one seemed awake, only her and the darkness.

The streetlights were on, some were flickering. It attracted bugs and moths, circling and trying to burn themselves in the light.

“What time is it?” Kimberly brought her wrist to her face and read the time. The small hand was pointing at 8 while the long hand was pointing at 7. “8:35 something…. Wait—fuck! It’s getting late!”

Her children!