Party of Instincts
Sure, 19 isn't a big exciting age, but in my family, birthdays are a big deal, so we celebrate every single one. I'm 21 now, and though my friends made my legal drinking day pretty damn memorable, it's my 19th party that still stands out in my mind.
We went to the Myrtle Beach -- my boyfriend, my sister, and two of three friends I invited along -- and hung out for an hour or so. One of my friends was an old neighbor friend who was now in college, and he'd brought along a sixteen-pack, so we sipped it leisurely and laughed about stupid things.
As I crunched my last can against the hard-packed sand and tossed it away, a horrific feeling settled into my gut. I almost doubled over with pain, but a look around at my friends made me shut up about it. I didn't want to spoil my own party. Maybe I just had to go to the bathroom.
"Jackiie," I said in a low voice to my sister, "will you walk with me? I have to go."
"Oh," she said, and took my arm. We shuffled away from the campfire and into the woods. I was still feeling nauseous, but I knew by now that squatting over a sand pit wasn't going to get rid of it.
As we reached the edge of the trees, Jackiie suddenly stopped. I turned. In the moonlight, her eyes glimmered white -- her pupils were gone.
"Five minutes, Emily," she chanted softly.
The feeling in my gut worsened. I bent over. "Shit. Emily, what the hell does that mean?"
In the same soft voice, she said, "Four minutes...time is almost running out."
Her unseeing eyes stared right through my face. I was trembling, and the pain was steadily worsening.
All of a sudden, a huge weight lifted off of me, and with a gasp, Jackiie came out of her trance. We stared at each other.
"I don't have to go anymore," I said.
We ran back to the campsite, exchanging a silent sisterly glance: nothing was to be said about this. It was too weird and too easy for the others to laugh away.
Two days later, my mother came into my room, her face white as she handed me the phone. "It's...Kelsey's mom," she said brokenly.
I know my face warped as I listened to that sobbing woman. Two nights ago -- the night of my party -- Kelsey had been involved in a car accident. She'd passed away in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.
I didn't even say a word to her mother. I just hung up the phone and pulled out my journal.
Always trust gut, I scrawled across the page.
