One Drunk Night

Anne looked at the street -  it was empty and she felt the hollow of the wind echo as it streamed into her right ear.  Anne wanted to shout Joe had dropped their well planned date, however she just tucked up her emotions and walked inside of the house.

Anne sighed as she placed her coat onto the coat stand; she felt blue and she took her feet straight to her room in order to release her emotions -  however none of her emotions popped and so she sat on a chair and rested on a spine of depression.  Anne wanted to say she was mad or upset, but instead she felt rock still; it were as though she could no longer feel.


After one hour Anne could no longer stand the solitude and so she rang up a friend named Marge.

“Hello;”  greeted Marge as she rested on her arm.  “Who is it?”  she inquired.

“It is me Anne;”  told Anne as she was lifted from her blank mind.  

“How are you Anne?”  asked Marge as she began to think of ideas on what to talk about.

“Oh not so good, Joe didn't turn up for a date;”  told Anne as she sighed.

“He didn't!”  gasped Marge as she narrowed her eyes.  “Why?”  she inquired.

“I don't know;”  told Anne as she sighed.  “I wish I did know otherwise I would be able to stop feeling so blank;”  she muttered.

“Well you should call him;”  told Marge.  “Or I can;”  she invited.

“You would call him for me?”  asked Anne.

“Sure, what are friends for?”  asked Marge as she giggled.  “I can say you are too upset to call and then try and egg out the reason behind him not being able to show;”  she added.  “I can do that, no problem!”  she gasped.

“Okay then;”  told Anne as she picked up her phone book.  “Here is his number;”  she added before she began to tell Marge Joe's phone number.


Marge phoned up Joe and he answered with a bit of a slur.  Marge felt her heartbeat race inside of her chest, however she smiled over her nervousness and greeted Joe.

“Hey there, this is Marge!”  she sung as she felt her skin tremble.

“Hey there Marge, how is grade three?”  asked Joe as he began to sneer over the memory of her as she teased him after he had completed the world's worst speech.

“Back in yesteryear;”  told Marge as she felt her belly wobble.

“So what are you doing tonight?”  asked Joe as he began to grow comfortable in his chair.

“Oh nothing, just talking on the phone;”  sung Marge as she began to fiddle with her hair.

“Such a shame to waste a night;”  told Joe as he leaned to the side.  “You should come visit me, I am going to be up all night;”  he added.

“You are?”  asked Marge.  “How come?”  she inquired.

“I don't know, I am just that alert;” told Joe as he sneered.  “Why, did you talk to Anne yet?”  he asked aware that Marge was Anne's best friend.

“Why yes Joe, she said you didn't show up for a date;”  told Marge as she fumbled with the lies that wanted to tell Joe she hadn't talked to Anne.

“Well tell her that is how men dump their dates;”  told Joe before he licked his lips.  “It wasn't working out;”  he added before he clutched at the phone and began to whisper.  “But if you visit me tonight there might be some connection;”  he added.

Marge smiled and then she dropped her smile -  Joe was so fresh, so daring, so head on;  she wanted to call him a foul word, but she suddenly wanted to know what he was like.  Was he a drunk, was he a loner, was he intelligent?  There was so much she didn't know about Joe, and so much she almost wanted to ask.

“Sure I will pop on over;”  told Marge.  “You live at the end of Hannon Drive right?”  she asked.

“Yes I do;”  told Joe as he counted his lucky straws over the fact that he had dragged a fish to his line and reeled her in.  “Swing on by;”  he added.  “You will like me;”  he said.

“Okay;”  muttered Anne as she narrowed her eyes.  “I will be there later;”  she whispered before she winked inside of her mind.  “I just have to do something and then I will be right over;”  she added.

“I'll turn the porch light on;”  told Joe before he hung up the phone.

Marge picked up the phone and rang Anne; it took seconds before Anne picked up the phone.  

“Hello?”  asked Anne as she clung onto her heart string.

Marge sucked in a breath -  she knew she was supposed to use tact but she was too impatient; she wanted to get to Joe's house fast and be treated to his attention span.  Marge smiled and then she licked her lips.

“Joe said he didn't come to pick you up because he wanted to dump you;”  she said. 

“Oh;”  muttered Anne as she felt her heart drop.  “I see;”  she added before Marge told her she had to go to dinner and hung up the phone.


Marge walked down the street to Hannon Drive -  it wasn't far, they all lived around the same area it just took five to ten minutes to get there.  When there Marge range the doorbell and she was let in by Joe who was drunk and fevered.

“I didn't know you were on a drinking binge;”  told Marge as she sat on the lounge Joe offered.

“I didn't know either;”  told Joe before he picked up a beer and offered it to Marge.  “Want some soda?”  he asked.

“No that is okay;”  told Marge as she grimaced at the beer.  

“I was offering not asking;”  told Joe as he glared at Marge.  “Take it or go;”  he added.

Marge tightened her smile and then she slowly took the beer.  Sure she knew what beer was, but she didn't often touch the stuff, she was a tea and water drinker and it was going to stay that way for a long time; alcohol didn't fit in with her immune system and so she had sworn that she would be the more righteous and stand as a non drinker amongst many -  however Joe made her feel like a dork and his attitude made her want to cry, so Marge took the beer and began to drink it as though the beer were soda, only it wasn't soda.


After an hour of talk Marge realised that she had gotten herself drunk.  Her brain felt slow and sluggish, and her eyes were unable to focus properly.  She began to think about how she needed to get home, but her body didn't want to move, so Marge sat and sipped the beers that continued to be pushed her way.  After another hour she couldn't even drink, and that was when she laid down to have a rest; she felt full, sick, bloated -  all the bad things that went with being drunk.  

“I have to shut my eyes for a moment;”  she told Joe who had chatted as he watched sports on television.

“Sure thing;”  he muttered as he looked over his shoulder. 

Joe saw Marge drop and he smiled – he was going to have company for the whole night and by morning Marge would feel like a different person.

“I like the company;”  told Joe as he put down his beer.  “But I am not a charity case;”  he added and he unclipped his belt buckle.  “You stay and you pay for the night;”  he added as he walked up to the couch Marge rested on and took off his top.  “Even through slave labour;” he muttered before he began to undress.


In the morning Marge walked home by herself.  She had only vague recollection of what had happened through the night -  she thought she had passed out, but something inside told her she had been awake; sometime during the night she had blinked her eyes and seen Joe on top of her as he panted through her hair, and she knew he had had sex with her; but she wasn't completely sure, she just guessed, she didn't smell like she had been laid and so she pushed the vague recall away and called it a dream.

“I got drunk!”  gasped Marge as she stepped closer to the driveway.

The car on the driveway started and backed out of the car spot.  Marge gasped and tried to throw a hand over her face, but her father Jacob caught sight of her and shook his head.

“Where did you go last night?”  he asked.

“No where;”  told Marge as she shrugged.  

“Your grounded!”  gasped Jacob.  “When I get home I want to talk to you!”  he added before he drove away.

Marge shrugged; she didn't want to be grounded and for a full minute she told herself to walk away, but Marge walked inside of the family house and ignored the family as they talked over breakfast.  She went to bed and collapsed!  She was tired and she didn't ever want to wake!


When Marge woke Jacob was on her study chair.  He glared at her in the most disproving way as he ate dinner on a plate.  Marge wanted to be sick; Jacob was not just crossing the line he also filled her room up with bad scent.  

“What are you doing in here?”  she asked.

“Eating while waiting for you to wake up;”  told Jacob as he glared at Marge.  “You slept all day, did you come home drunk?”  he asked.

“I visited a friend;”  told Marge as she placed a hand onto her sore head.  “I drank one beer;”  she lied.

“Okay;”  told Jacob as he shrugged. “Ensure you do not visit that friend again;”  he then added before he continued to eat his meal.  

“Or else what?”  asked Marge as she narrowed her eyes.

“No or else what, just don't;”  told Jacob as he began to munch on potato.  “You make the house sick when you drink;” he added.

“You drink!”  seethed Marge as she narrowed her eyes.

“I drink wine;”  told Jacob.  “Half a cup at that;”  he added. 

“Well then I will do that too;”  told Marge as she began to mope.  

“No you won't;”  muttered Jacob as he chewed on his meal.  “You are grounded;”  he added as he leaned back in her chair.  “You will not be going anywhere and the wine pantry is always locked;”  he added. 

“I see;”  sighed Marge as she grew fast depressed.  “I see;”  she sung.

“You had better;”  told Jacob as he narrowed his eyes.  “You had better;”  he said before he continued to eat.  “So tell me more about your friend and what you did;”  he ordered as he ate.

Marge sighed; her bedroom had been turned into an interrogation room and she was going to be urged to spill until Jacob was satisfied he had been told the whole story.  Marge didn't want to lie, but she held back as she told Jacob that she had been at a friends house when she had been urged to drink.  Jacob tried to graze her bruise and grate her away from her cover up, but Marge stood strong on her attitude and in the end Jacob had to lie to himself to make him leave.

“You are grounded;”  he told Marge before he left.  “You will never be let out of this house;”  he added before he moved to have a shower -  he stank of beer and the smell had radiated from Marge onto him; he felt dirty and so was she!  


Marge felt lower then squashed grape as she met her family day after day and was greet with frowns  not smiles.  She was a rotten apple and her family made her feel like off cheese as they looked at her.  No one wanted to say hello and they suddenly forgot to include her in conversations;  Marge grew depressed as she met one stand-off after another -  she couldn't stand their attitude.


One evening as Jacob marched down the hall Marge hit him hard on the face until her skin tingled.  

“I only drank for that one night!”  she gasped as she tried her best to feel strong in her mode of rage.

Jacob narrowed his eyes and backhanded Marge in the same swift manner, only his threw her off her balance and made her tumble into the ceramic plate cupboard.  One plate after another fell over her shoulders and onto the floor and Marge's legs were splinted with pips of broken ceramic until her father screamed.

“Get your room!”  he shouted as he growled inside of his chest.  “Now!”  he barked.

Marge wanted to run away and so she moved for the front door -  however Jacob caught her and dragged her back to her bedroom; inside of the room he punched Marge until she fell onto the floor.

“You are to stay!”  he gasped.  “And damn you for breaking the plates!”  he added before he slammed the door closed.

“It was just one night!”  gasped Marge to the closed door.  “One!”  she added before she sobbed.