CHANDELIER

She walked up to the door. It seemed quiet. She checked her phone again to be sure she was at the right address. She was. She rang the bell and the door swung open and she could see the party was in full swing. The house must be sound proof, she thought to herself. A blast of cold air hit her as she stepped into the house.
The techno beat was hypnotic. It sounded like something Calvin Harris had thrown together. As she moved through the crowd someone handed her a red plastic cup. She grabbed it and swallowed its contents in one gulp.
She began swaying to the beat of the music. Just another night in her life. She lived for the party. She would party to the early hours of the morning and repeat it all again the next day. She felt someone’s hand move to her waist. She didn’t look back, it would disrupt her momentum. She grabbed his hands as she gyrated into him, his body fitting hers perfectly. She was lost in the moment.
She stretched out her hand and another cup was passed to her, the hypnotic beat filling her head as she danced. She had done everything but it still wasn’t enough. Her phone started vibrating against her leg. The body hard against hers felt too good, she didn’t want to risk losing him in the crowd. Her phone kept vibrating but she didn’t acknowledge its urgency.
She spotted a familiar face walking towards her in the crowd. The last face she expected to see here, one of the faces that led her to escape her life every night.
“Your friend told me you were here” he said, his tone accusing.
“Can we not do this now” she said as she felt the hand pull away from her.
And with that he pulled her upstairs and into a room.
“I’m done, with all this. It’s been what, three years since I’ve had to put up with your bullshit.”
She just looked at him, like he wasn’t there.
The song playing downstairs escaped into the room.
Party Girls don’t get hurt, can’t feel anything.
Yes. And sadly she didn’t feel anything.
“Say something, anything” he pleaded.
“I’m done too” she said, and with that she walked out of the room.
Keep my glass full until morning light.
She reached for another cup and gulped its contents. Someone was on hand to fill her glass. Till the morning light the song said.
‘Cos I’m just holding on for tonight.
After all she was just holding on for tonight. Once the night was over she would feel no pain.
Throw them back till I lose count.
She had lost count of how many glasses she had had. The buzz was finally beginning to set in.
I wanna swing from a chandelier.
The gears in her head began to spin. She looked at the roof and right in the middle was a chandelier. Bright as it could be, filling the house with light. She steadied herself on the railing of the stairs and jumped.
She grabbed the chandelier. She didn’t fear falling. She swung her legs and the chandelier began to swing. Someone noticed her movements and pointed up. The entire house stopped to cheer her on. She was the life of the party, like she always was.
As the chants got louder and her momentum increased, her hand slipped. As she fell, the crowd parted and she landed with her back to the ground and her world faded to black.

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Her eyes opened as the morning light hit her face. She looked around. She didn’t remember where she was. She knew that to mean her night had been a good one. There were bodies on the floor, passed out from the partying. She felt a sudden breeze and looked down. She was missing her undergarments.
The same song was still playing in the background.
Here comes the shame, here comes the shame.
She felt sore as she stood up. As she stepped out of the house and into the street she only felt one thing.
Shame.

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