I can't describe the feeling I had at the time, I couldn't pin point it to one emotion. I slipped in and out of consciousness, finding myself somewhere between euphoria and nausea. My hands couldn't find purchase upon any one particular surface, so I just clumsily grabbed at anything that came my way. Leaning heavily against a brick wall I let out a deep sigh. I laughed and slipped down to the ground, my eyes dancing with mischief.

I tried to stand up but my legs wobbled underneath me and I gave up pretty quickly. I looked at my friends, one eye closed trying to stop their shapes from moving. 'Let dance', I shouted. 'Right now, right here, right now'. Laughter bubbled up out of my throat and I threw my hands up into the air. 'Pick me up'. My friends groaned, rolled their eyes and picked me up from the ground, I lazily slumped upon one of them and tried to sway along with the song playing in my head. I flung my head back and let out another bellowing laugh. 'God this is great', I mumbled as tiredness took over me and I started to lose consciousness.  Even in the darkness of unconsciousness I felt my head hit the wall, or possibly the ground, I had lost any sense of direction a long time ago. 'Ouch', I mumbled and tried to move my hand to rub the already protruding bruise. After that, it was dark.

The next morning I woke up slumped over the couch in the basement. It was an old suede couch which I had splattered in vomit. I took a deep breath and smelt the strong odour of bile. I began to gag, which seemed to only make me feel worse. I rolled of the couch and tried to make my way to the bathroom but opted for an open window instead. The fresh air hit my face hard as I hung my head out the window and made me hurl harder. I brought my face in and was greeted with a strong stench of bile and warm air. There it was again, that sick feeling that I couldn't seem to escape.

I fell to the ground and tried to control my breathing. I thought quickly trying to conjure up something that would make me feel a little better. The idea of a hot shower came to me and seemed like the holy grail. I crawled on all fours to the bathroom, sat in the shower limply and imagined the hot water pouring over me. My whole body seemed devoid of any energy and it took me half an hour to reach up and turn the taps on. I felt the water fall over me, enveloping me in warmth and wished that the sick feeling would go away. My clothes became drenched but I sat still, I heard my friends calling me and asking if I was 'okay in there' but didn't have the voice to call out. Eventually one of them mustered up the courage to come in. 'I'm coming in Em, just to make sure your okay and haven't drowned or something', she laughed, but it sounded uncertain. I looked up as the door opened, it was Rachel. She gave me a sorry look and tried to help me out of my soaking clothes, 'God Em, your absolutely drenched, how do you feel?'. I gave her a mournful look and mumbled a 'never better'. She laughed a little and flung the clothes into the sink. 'We'll deal with those later'. I nodded and smiled gratefully as she put a big dollop of shampoo on my head; the smell of bile began to evaporate and I started to feel okay again. 'Thanks Rach, love you long time'. She laughed and smiled, 'You owe me big time'.

Its been about five hours since I woke up, seven since I vomited my guts up and about and fifteen since I had the first sip of alcohol last night. I can't even eat a crust of bread without running to the bathroom to cough it back up. 'That's the nature of the beast', Rachel keeps on saying. I haven't yet replied once, I'm surprised she has kept it up.

Image by Gailf458