[Fiction] Eruption: Bacchus

[Bacchus]

Most novas have an interesting story about their eruption. They were attacked, blown up, having sex, drowning, getting a massage, choking on a piece of bad meat….anything interesting and usually larger than life.

My eruption was less noble, and far more ignominious.

I was on my knees in front of the worst looking toilet I’d ever seen, puking my guts out.

I’d have been less surprised if it hadn’t been something that had happened a dozen times before. I don’t know why this time was different. Maybe it was all my fraternity buddies cheering me on outside the stall. Maybe it was the rumors that Flicker was going to be coming to the club; those rumors turned out to be bogus.

Maybe it was just my time. All I knew was that one moment I was hurling my guts out, and the next, the guys outside the door had all fallen to the floor.

I felt better for a moment, my stomach no longer painful. Then the headaches began.

Grabbing the stall door, I swung it open and stared out at the guys laying on the floor. I staggered to the sink and stared at myself in the mirror.

I hadn’t been doing any drugs, but for a moment I could imagine that I saw my face drooping and shifting, changing into the form of my closest fraternity brother, who I could see out of the corner of my eye.

Wiping my mouth, I stepped outside the bathroom, and that’s when everything went crazy.

I saw streamers and ribbons of light creating a trail behind everyone on the dance floor. This created a cacophony of color, and for a moment I thought that one of my friends had slipped something stronger than Tequila into my drink.

Then I realized that everyone else seemed to be reacting to it. There were shouts of delighted laughter from some quarters, while other people reacted badly.

I staggered through the crowd, barely noticing that the people I brushed up against were falling to the ground in a stoned stupor.

I’d almost made it to the door when someone noticed the trail of unconscious bodies.

That’s when the crowd panicked, and I was carried away.

I’d like to think I wasn’t responsible for the pandemonium that followed, but there’s only so much lying you can do to yourself.

[Bacchus]

The hangover was worse than any that I could remember. I was dazed and confused and wondering where the hell I was.

That wasn’t unusual for me, really. Usually the headache wasn’t this bad though.

I blinked, trying to wipe the crust from my eyes for a moment before I realized there wasn’t any. It took another moment to realize that except for the intense headache, I felt really good, better than I had in years.

I staggered to the bathroom, glad that I was somewhere I recognized instead of in the home of some girl I didn’t even remember.

I staggered through my morning routine just as I had every other morning of my college career. It wasn’t until I was in the shower that flashed of memory began to return of the night before.

I shook my head, which only made the headache worse. Somebody must have slipped me something pretty potent last night. Usually I prefer red to stay away from the harder drugs.

Finishing my shower, I stepped outside and dried off. I headed for the medicine cabinet and grabbed a bottle of aspirin. I flipped the lid open and tossed several pills back, swallowing them dry.

Closing the door, I stared at the mirror, and wondered why my eyes weren’t as bloodshot as they usually were. Given the size of my headache, I’d have thought my eyes would look like someone who had a double case of pinkeye. I didn’t even have any bags under my eyes.

I looked disgustingly healthy, and for a moment I could almost fool myself into thinking I’d lost some weight.

The knock on the door had me staggering to slip on a T-shirt and jeans. I peered through the viewing port and stared for a moment.

Three people in Project Utopia spandex were standing outside my door.

I staggered back and dived under my roommates bed. He was going to kill me for flushing his stash, but I wasn’t going to jail for his choice of addictions.

A moment later I was in the bathroom, flushing frantically. The knocking at the door became more insistent, and thing I felt something sweeping across my consciousness, a hideous, horrid ping that made me groan and fall to the floor.

That was all I could take. As I heard the door behind me crash open, I was already out the window.