Reckless (Part Eight)

i loved parties.
i know, it sounds nothing like me, but really, i do like them.
the small ones at jacks friends houses, where eight or ten of us just mucked around drinking, taking photos and playing too loud music.
personally, i just loved the drinking.
since my failed attempts, the taste and burn reminded me of losing control. yet it was in a controllable way. it was like cutting for fun, not for death. it was simply lovely.
alcohol gave the world a pleasant spin, it made if fuzzy around the edges, like a soft toy. i could be numb and i could forget.
jack hated drinking. he loved the music, and hanging out with his friends, but he never really joined in with the drinking. he would have a couple of beers, maximum.
so it meant that i could consume as much as i liked, and jack would take care of me.
it wasnt like these parties were a regualr occurrence, but it was good because i could unwind without hurting myself. reluctantly, jack agreed with this point. he didnt like me being drunk, because if i got lost, or fell over, i was helpless. i knew it put strain on him, but it was a party and i was going to have fun.
naturally it was only a matter of time before we had another party, and a few weeks after my return to school, we were invited to a friday night get-together.
it was never a dressy affair, it was the same people we hung out with all the time so i never bothered. not like i had anything dressy anyway.
we turned up at about eight, vodka in my hand and a six pack of beer in jacks.
i was well aware that this sort of situation was exactly the sort that parents hated their teenagers getting into, but mine were oblivious, and i had the vague idea that even if they did know, they wouldnt care.
i was never a heavy drinker. for several reasons. i preferred to just hang out with jack; it was only at these few parties that i would bring a bottle. also my size. i wasnt well adapted to take in large amounts of vodka, so i was limited to a few drinks before i was drunk enough to stumble everywhere.
we walked in, greeting everyone as we made our way to the kitchen. jacks friend jimmy was hosting this particular party as his parents had gone on a cruise, leaving the house blissfully adult free. we found him and said hello, casually catching up on what we had missed by turning up so late (late? it was only ten past eight!).
i set my bottle on the counter, smiling idly to myself. i felt jacks eyes on me as i did so. it was a rare occasion that i smiled, especially to myself. i poured some vodka into a glass, ignoring jacks cough when he thought i had poured enough and added some coke to make it go down a little easier. i hadnt even put the lid on when i tilted my head back and let the hot-cold effect of the alcohol take place in my throat. the icy cold liquid flowed into my stomach, setting it alight as it went. i loved it.
i recapped the bottles and put them in the fridge, joining jack to join the rest of his friends.

after two very strong drinks, i was quite gone. i started dancing to the music, not caring at all who was watching. jack didnt join in, but it didnt matter. i was having fun.

i had another two drinks, and it was getting too hard to see. i was sitting against a wall on the floor, babbling to myself. i was only slightly aware of jack sitting next to me and legs in front of me. i was comfortably numb and loving it. i managed to get up under the pretense of going to the bathroom, but snuck off to the kitchen to retrieve my bottle. i didnt bother with the coke- i tipped my head back and let the vodka flow.
"kat!"
uh-oh.
"kat stop, you'll get alcohol poisoning!" jack wrenched the bottle from my mouth.
"spoil sport." how odd. it didnt sound like that when i said it. maybe i was a little more drunk than i had thought.
"jack i wanna go home." i focused on making my voice clearer.
"home? ok. lets go kat."
god he was good to me.
he slung my arm over his shoulder and half-carried me outside, calling goodbyes as we went.
the weather outside was freezing. it was nice on my face, it was getting far too hot in there. i stumbled down the driveway, and ended up falling over.
"kat! god. im going to have to carry you. i wish you knew your limits." it didnt sound like he was talking to me.
he did carry me home, puffing up the stairs of his house and dropping me on his bed, exhausted.
"stay here a minute kat, im going to go get some water. and a bucket," he added as an afterthought.
i lay back on his bed, right in the middle. my head was lovely and floaty, very light and blurry. i smiled to myself some more. i should do this more often.
jack returned, with a bottle of water and a glass, and a blue bucket.
"kat, wake up. move over you lump."
i smiled at jack. he liked it when i smiled.
but he didnt smile back. i groaned and rolled over enough so he could squeeze on the bed. he insisted on removing my jacket and my shoes before covering me in blankets. i felt jacks knobbly knees in the back of mine and started to drift off.
"oh kat. i just want you to be happy without having to drink or to cut. i wish i could make you happy." it was barely a whisper, but it sounded nice. what a lovely dream vodka produced. i rolled over and rested my head in jacks neck. he smelt so good.
his skinny arms wrapped around me and my mind started slipping away into unconsciousness, just as jack kissed my head. life was lovely sometimes.



Life was so terrible.
my head was throbbing, mostly at my temples, and a thick poison was rising in my throat and falling back down with every breath. i fought to keep my eyes shut, because i knew that the pale grey light wouldnt help at all. all my attention was aimed and not throwing up, trying to remember why it was that i felt so sick.
"kat?"
ah. at least i was with jack. he would know what had happened. a thought occured to me and the hot burning sick rose once agin in my throat. was i in hospital again?
"kat, its ok. do you want the bucket?"
bucket? what on earth was going on? then it clicked. i was hungover. i groaned as the memory of vodka washed over me, fighting another wave of vomit. jack presented a bucket and held it under my chin, holding me up.
"you drank a fair bit last night kat. more than you have before. how are you feeling?"
absolute shit. "not too bad."
"food? or would you rather stick to water?"
"owww" i groaned. i laid back down, my head swimming. "painkillers and sleep."
after a moment of fiddling, jack produced two white pills and a glass of water. "go to sleep kat, you'll wake up when you feel a bit better."

it was dark again when i woke up, and instantly i knew i was alone. i used all of my will to keep my eyes shut. it kept me calm, and if anyone was nearby, i stood a good chance of finding out where i was at if they thought i was asleep. surely enough, i heard voices growing louder- they were travelling towards me. i listened carefully, keeping my eyes shut loosely.
"i just hope it doesnt become a habit. you know her."
a female voice followed the first, which i instantly recognized as jack. it was fairly quiet so i strained my ears further. it was amelia.
"i know you already do, better than anyone, but you just need to keep an eye on her sweetheart." the worry in her voice grew more apparent the closer they got- i could hear them on the second to last step, the one that always creaked no matter how you went about it.

"its so tiring. i love her, but sometimes i just want to take a break. but i dont want to be away from her. i couldnt stand the worry and pain it would cause, to both of us. and now alcohol. i hope she doesnt use this as another vice. you know i can only do so much. the six hours at school kills me. the only reason it doesnt drive me insane is because i know there are teachers there to keep an eye on her."

they had both come to a stop outside the door now, and their voices were clear but still soft.
jack thought i was a burden? i knew i was, but i didnt realise he wanted a holiday from me.
the sheer thought of being away from him for any amount of time caused my chest to ache, and i curled up into a tight little ball and threw myself into the scenario.

on one hand, it was great. i would have as much time as i liked to cut and cry and stay awake all night talking to myself. though, on the other, to ruin all this time now would make me have to start again, and with the addition of a therapist. i was doing this, and jack was helping me. only slightly, because i knew it was me who was making myself do it, but he was there, urging me to keep going.

i sighed and rolled over. no more alcohol. i gagged, and i felt a rush of hot, acidic bile rush up from my stomach. i let it reach the back of my mouth and swallowed it again. the vodka permeated my mouth, and i committed to memory the disgusting taste and smell of it. never again.
but with the taste came the memory of all the previous times i had tasted it. predominantly when the pills had been washed down with it. no i thought fiercely, im not going back there, i cant. my resolve was strong, but it had been strong before. you know its bad when you doubt your own thoughts and feelings.
i was suddenly sick of lying in bed and sat up slowly, feigning the slow muddled movements of someone who has just awoken. jack noticed and rushed to my side. the sheer action sent guilt rushing through my veins instantly. he shouldnt have another burden of mine to carry. so the burden of him carrying my burden became my burden.

it was late afternoon when i was sitting outside with jack. amelia had given us a canvas that had a few gashes in it, so we grabbed some tubes of paint and stood around it, creating a masterpiece.
"kat, why do you drink?"
i was shocked. he wasnt usually so outright.
"it just makes everything fuzzy and easier to deal with i guess. im not wholly conscious to deal with it. it means i get a break from my brain."
he seemed just as surprised as i was- i didnt usually say as much, or be so honest.
"you dont want to die when youre drunk?"
i thought about that. "its not that i dont want to die, i just dont think about it when im that way. im carefree."
he smiled a little, but soon remembered just what had happened when i was drunk.
"it wont happen again, jack. i dont want it to. im trying."
"i know kat, and i can help as much as i can."
"im always going to be your burden." it wasnt a complaint, it wasnt a question, more of a statement of fact. it was true. even if i managed not to seem to want to hurt myself, jack would always worry about me.
we stood in silence above our canvas, empty tubes of paint in our hands. we left it to dry and went inside to wash up for dinner. it was amelias birthday, so we were planning on making dinner for her. we had all agreed it just wasnt our style to go to a fancy restaurant for it, so we were going to make her favourite, and one she hadnt had in a while- chicken fettucine. it was fairly straightforward, but there was always room for error with us two.

after 55 minutes we had managed to cook the pasta, which was now cold and stuck together, due to our lack of timing. the pasta, we had decided, would take ages, so we put it on first. then we started on the chicken, and by the time we finished adding the sauce to it (a bubbling curdled mess) we were in stitches, throwing cold hard pasta at eachother and screaming with laughter.
"what on earth-"
amelia walked in and we stopped. we waited, frozen while she absorbed the scene before her and decided how to go about it.
"i guess its pizza?"
"still italian?" jack said hopefully.
"you know i didnt expect you two to manage to put together a whole meal. least of all one i can barely cook myself."
"we tried, we just dont have-"
"timing"
"organization"
"food preparation skills."
we stood still and then the food fight started again, all three of us flinging pasta across the kitchen until we couldnt breathe, and called the pizza place so we could eat something that wasnt dangerous.