140 Light Parade
It was now thirty minutes before the big party, and I already told my mom. She thought it was a part of my chess class, although I’m pretty sure I rember her saying to quit that class. But who’s complaining?
I put on sothing that could sowhat work, or perhaps might at least grab soone’s eyes. I wore an outfit that sort of supported the other: a green t-shirt and dark blue jeans, which I knew would be perfect for a day like today where it was very sunny and hot outside.
I went outside, ready for my first day of my new life with my friends, or at least with my friend, Greg. I have not been to a party in such a long ti, but who knows what may happen, so I’ll have to keep an eye on him, even if he may have no plans to try anything with , I know he is the type that likes to play with people’s minds.
My mom dropped off at the place, and the lights were completely blinding in the night sky. The grass was blown, but it looked great as well with all the colors everywhere, and the decorations were very nice. The music was loud, and I could hear it coming from the place, which was a good sign.
“Oh boy,” Mom said with a winced face, seeing the place herself from the car window. But then she smiled, giving a thumbs-up before she drove away. I waved goodbye before I walked up to the place with a smile on my face. There was a pathway that was filled with grass and trees, and I could see people dancing, laughing, and having fun. The lights were flickering like stars, and I walked towards the entrance.
I stepped inside the door of the building.
And when I tell you that the place was crazy, I an crazy, and I don’t an just like in the movies, where there was so sort of disaster that occurred or sothing like that. There were many lights everywhere, and people were everywhere: so were dancing while others were just sitting around.
The music was booming like a siren, and everyone there seed to be having a good ti at this point, although so of them looked really drunk already as well as stumbling around and slurring their words as they spoke them out loud.
I couldn’t stay here, I couldn’t.
.....
Then I saw Greg walking towards , his hands holding what seed to be orange juice or sothing, and his face seed to be smiling at as he walked towards with his eyes half closed. He looked like an older version of myself, wearing a black shirt with a white button-down shirt underneath it which was unbuttoned with his hair slightly ssy as if soone just combed it out and let it air dry for a mont.
He sat down beside at a table with a cup of juice as well as so sort of cookies or sothing.
“Hey, you ca!” he shouted with a smile, before he started to laugh out loud, taking his cup and drinking the contents of it all at once in one gulp.
I smiled back at him. “Yeah, of course!” I said before I looked at what was inside the cup. It was orange juice, like I said.
“Why does everyone look drunk?” I asked, looking at one of them who were just talking loudly and laughing loudly as they walked by us.
He nodded his head in response. “It’s called the ‘Cuban Special.'” He laughed loudly again and took a sip of his drink again, and it seed to be working on him as well because he was feeling a bit better by now, while I still felt quite uneasy in my stomach.
“What is this place?” I muttered, feeling uneasy at this point in ti as Greg put his hand on my shoulder, looking at with his blue eyes before he started to laugh loudly again.
“Everything...” he said queasily, and worry ca over my face.
“Everything... what?” I asked him in concern.
He laughed even louder. “You’ll see,” he said with a smirk on his face. He looked around, his eyes completely blank as if there was nothing, as if he was in the vacuum of space that was taking him away.
I gulped in nervousness. What was he doing? He was acting like he had taken a shot of so kind of drug that made him see everything differently-but why?
Fear rose in my heart as he slowly leaned to the side, looking behind him towards the kitchen area and the staff there as he looked around the place again. Then he looked back at with his head tilted to the side with his eyes wide open, like a deer that had just been run over by a car.
Suddenly, he dropped.
I shrieked in shock, unsure of what to do or what just happened . But then I saw Greg get back up on the ground while laughing out loud once more. He looked over at with a wide smile on his face. “That’s right,” he said in a whisper-like voice as he pointed over to the people who were dancing, as if they were monkeys or sothing, or maybe puppies in the hands of so strange person who was just going to eat them for lunch.
“That’s right.” What did that an?
I needed to get him out of here, so I could get him to safety. This was no way to have a good ti in this place, I couldn’t have a good ti here. I felt so uneasy by now as if sothing was wrong with . But what was it? I dragged him out of the building, and laid by the stairs.
“Greg, you need to go ho,” I said, feeling even more uneasy than before.
He shook his head slowly in response. “No,” he said slowly in response, but then he put his hands on my shoulders as if to hold onto so that I wouldn’t move or get away from him.
“Yes, you need to,” I said, looking at him with concern. He didn’t seem to respond at all, and more of just stood there with a blank expression. “What’s wrong Greg?” I asked, looking at him. “What’s wrong?” I asked, again-determined to get an answer out of him. “Nothing!” he shouted, his eyes glaring at with anger. He was breathing hard as if an animal was kicking inside of his chest. Shock was written across my face as I looked at him. I have never-ever-seen him this bad, and I an this bad.
Like it as if he was off the deep end, with nothing but hate and emptiness inside. I almost cried just looking at him, but all of a sudden his eyes returned back to normal. “Sorry Greg...” he muttered, looking at . “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said to him, patting him on the back. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“A lot is wrong,” he said, looking at . “I’m tired, I’m afraid, I’m stuck.” Confusion raced through my mind wondering-stuck of what? What was he afraid of? What happened to him?
It must’ve been personal because he clearly isn’t doing well. He looked at , tears building in his eyes. “Rember when I was gone for two weeks?” he said, and I could rember the last two weeks, feeling alone. That’s the initial reason why I wanted to beco popular, so that I would have many friends.
I know I didn’t tell you guys this, but yes-this was the initial reason why I wanted to beco popular.
“Yeah, I’m suffering from PTSD,” Greg said. “Every ti that I just take a shower or do sothing, I always get these visions. These visions, these-these-these visions that hurt , every single ti.”
He began to breathe hard in anger, as if he was now completely engulfed in fury and hatred. “Whether it may be so other mission, or just seeing you die. My own brother, dead from Rocke’s aty hands. He may be gone, but not in my life. And I don’t know what to-to do about it...”
He covered his face in sha and tears, but then he looked back at . “You know that orange juice that I supposedly had?” he said.
I moved over to him, and patted his back, looking at him straight in the eye. I was speechless, unsure what to say or what to even do. “It’s going to be okay...” I said. “If I can make it through, you can.”
He continued to cry, and I’m even surprised I didn’t even begin to cry. “I’m soon to start therapy by this weekend,” he said. “Hopefully I get through this. I just tried to hide it from you because I didn’t want to make things weird between us. I didn’t want you to treat any different, but just how it’s always been. Friends who stuck out for one another.”
I nodded, and I hugged him, holding him under my arms as he began to cry out tears. I needed to stay strong for him, because that’s what friends do.
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