‘Didn’t I say ‘ Never again’ only last week?’ Pete asked himself as he awoke to that old familiar feeling of ‘too much the night before’.
He had no idea what the time was, nor had any inclination to open his eyes just yet. The usual disorientation of the Friday night bender was fogging his brain. As he lay flat out on the bed, eyes still tightly closed against the piercing rays of the morning sun, he tried to piece together the previous night’s memories. As usual he found that there were huge gaps in what he remembered. He’d finished work as usual at around six-thirty and headed over to ‘The Locomotion’ where he’d had a couple of jars with the lads from work. He remembered Josh suggesting they go on to an all-night bar where they might get lucky. It was here that the gaps started to appear.
Gently the curtains murmured a quiet whisper back and forth against the windowsill and windows. He must have opened the window before falling into bed last night. In Pete’s head that whisper was magnified thousands of times so that it resembled the crash of waves against the shore during a raging storm.
Slowly he opened one eye to take a peek at the alarm clock on the beside table. He knew he’d have to surface at some point and do something more active than just groaning to relieve the banging in his head. With sudden shock Pete saw that the alarm clock wasn’t even there, and as reality started to hit home he also realised that neither was the bedside table, well not his bedside table. He opened both eyes and wasn’t totally surprised that he was in somebody else’s bedroom.
Looking to his other side he saw a tousled head of wavy blond hair. Yet again he had scored a drunken pick-up, despite the repeated promises to himself that he wouldn’t do that again either. ‘Carole? Annette? Justine?’ He ran a few names through his head to see if they caused any ripples of recognition, but there was nothing.
“Hey. Good morning,” he whispered sheepishly. Nothing.
For a moment he considered doing the walk of shame and leaving as quietly and quickly as he could, but that was never his modus operandi. He tried again in a slightly louder voice, “Hey, Good morning.” Still nothing.
He decided to move on to plan B. Gently he pulled the cover back from his bedmate’s blond head. As he revealed her face he let out an involuntary gasp. Her eyes were staring, wide, open and blank. Without further thought he touched two fingers to her neck confirming his worst fears; he was lying next to a dead body, not only that it was a dead body he had no idea who it was, how he or she had got there, or any clue to the wheres or whyfors.
“Shit,” he whispered, “What now?”
Thanks to Michelle for the prompt….
PART TWO can be found here: CHOICE