Another Chance comes in a Snap

A rush of sound hit me with great force as I walked inside the chaotic household.

What I expected to be a small gathering revealed to be the party of the century as I walked towards the living room. People from the age of fifteen to twenty were scattered about, the disturbing behavior disgusting me as I strut through the house with purpose.

Compared to the partiers around me, I probably looked like someone’s lame mom wearing a black leather jacket. I just finished my shift at a local bar and grill, so I smelled like booze and hamburgers. My work uniform was gone and replaced with high-waisted black jeans, a gray camo holster top, and my favorite jacket. My blonde hair was in loose curls, and my makeup consisted of only rose gold lipstick and barely noticeable eyeshadow.

And to top it all off, I was carrying a large purse that contained my wallet, phone, emergency bathroom products, and mango-flavored lollipops.

Some onlookers snickered or glared at me as I pushed through the crowd, a familiar shrill voice making me sigh exasperatedly. Mom and dad were not going to be impressed, to say the least.

The large living room was littered in teenagers, draping over the furniture or leaning against the walls. A couple was making out heavily on the sofa, another was dancing suggestively to the music. When I got a sniff of the room, I suspected that almost everyone had been taking some sort of drug.

On the filthy kitchen counter, I could see dirty shot-glasses and empty bottles of champagne and wine. Where there wasn’t empty bottles or glasses, ashes had covered the counter like gray snow. I groaned in irritation when I saw someone pull out a bottle of Scotch. I suspected that there was a group of druggies behind the counter, since there were a few streams of smoke that rose towards the ceiling.

In the back of the living room was a slide glass door that led to the backyard, where the rest of the party was taking place. Knowing that the owners of this house were more than well off, I wasn’t surprised to see a fountain and a pool in the backyard, paired with a wetbar.

And, of course, the wetbar was picked clean.

A scene far more savage than the one in the house presented itself to me. Large speakers played “I’m an Albatraoz” by AronChupa with heavy bass, blaring at a volume that anyone a mile away could hear. I was shocked that the police hadn’t been called yet because of it. All the pavement was covered in dancing bodies, dancing in the most ridiculous ways as the most intoxicated bunch jumped into the pool, clothes and all. And, I was unfortunate to see the special few who jumped in without any clothes at all. I shielded my eyes from the pool as I buried myself in the crowd.

More irritated than ever, I shoved people aside as the shrill voice became even louder, it sounded like it was shouting through a microphone.

In a small clearing, was my drunk sister. Becca.

She was holding a microphone, singing to the song playing. Her words were slurred and her eyes were half-open, a clear sign that she had been drinking. Her shirt was on the floor, along with her purse and shoes. And seeing her best friend, Grace, committing the same behavior was the final straw for me.

I walked out of the crowd surrounding the little performance, yelling directed towards me as I picked up my sister’s belongings. A guy even had the audacity to throw a beer towards me, which I luckily dodged and watched as the glass shattered on the pavement.

“Hey, Ava!” My sister exclaimed, her drunken state drawing out my name longer than necessary.

“Pack up your crap, you’re leaving.” I snapped, throwing the microphone on the floor, which produced a horrible distorted sound to blare from the speakers, and then I shoved her stuff into her arms.

Her jaw dropped at my behavior, and she began to swear as I tried to force her shirt back on. I could tell some of the onlookers were enjoying the new show I was giving them, but my anger was clouding my better judgement.

I probably should’ve taken her to a bathroom first, I thought.

“Hey! What’s your deal?” Becca whined, trying to get back out of her shirt.

“Just shut up and cooperate so we can get out of here.”

Once her shirt was securely on, and her heels were on her manicured feet, I grabbed her forearm and dragged her through the crowd. She mumbled a long string of curse words and jumbled nonsense, along with some of those in the crowd who were previously enjoying the show she was giving.

I was so going to enjoy having to tell our parents about this. I won’t be getting a wink of sleep tonight.

“You don’t need to be such a bitch about it, you gotta loosen up a bit.” Becca spat, trying to pull out of my grasp.

I silently thanked my boss for making me handle some of the heavy work. If I was only a waitress, I would’ve struggled to keep a firm hold on my sister.

“Just shut up. You have no idea just how much trouble you already got the both of us in.”

Once we exited the house, that was when Becca began her childish outbursts. She screamed, thrashed, hit, trying to get away from me like some spoiled child. As we made our way through the mowed lawn, I let out a yelp when I felt her jaws snap on my hand.

“What the hell?!”

I smacked the side of her head to get her to let go, and I gingerly examined the bite. As expected, she broke the skin, and blood was already starting to slide down my fingertips. I knew this was going to leave a nasty bruise.

“Why do you gotta be such a stuck-up? You’re just jealous because I’m having a better high school life than you! You’re being a bitch because while you whine and cry about how much you get picked on for having a fat ass, my biggest problem is choosing which guy I want to make out with in the locker room!” She yelled, loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear.

I raised my hand to slap her but managed to refrain at the last second. Remembering what happened last time, I knew that I didn’t want a repeat.

“Becca Rose Watson, get in the car.” I spat, doing my best to not insult her back.

She huffed before stomping into the passenger seat and slamming the door shut as hard as she could. I started the car and pulled out into the road, driving towards the highway.

“Becca, how much did you drink?”

She spat at me before mumbling, “A few shots.”

I groaned, wiping the gross saliva off my cheek as I kept my eyes on the road. I was already picturing my parent’s reactions in my head. They’ll probably ask me why my sister came home drunk. They’ll be mad at her for drinking underage and being in the presence of drugs. If the school or police get wind of this, she’ll be kicked off the volleyball team, and a long list of other consequences.

“Is that a hickey?” I asked, setting eyes on a mark on her neck.

“Maybe.”

“Just so you know, the ‘curling iron burn’ excuse ain’t gonna work.”

She gave me this look as if I had read her mind, and she sighed as she processed the situation. But her shocked and ashamed expression was replaced with another fit of rage.

“You enjoy getting me in trouble, don’t you? I bet you pick me up from these parties just so you can find all the things that can get me in trouble!” She shouted in my ear.

With an iron grip, I held onto the steering wheel and tried to pay attention to the road. However, trying to bottle up my anger was a futile effort. Just like last time.

“Oh, please! If it were dad picking you up, he would be chewing out your sorry ass in the middle of that crowd! You should be grateful it’s me!”

“You get a sick thrill out of trying to get me in trouble! With your perfect grades and perfect job, you think you’re better than me!”

“At least I’m not a spoiled little brat who can’t keep passing grades! While you fail gym, I’m passing AP classes! At least I’m not a complete failure like you!” I screamed.

A second and far louder scream followed as I realized the horrid effects of my road rage. My car went flying off the road and into the woods, hitting trees and breaking the windshield. My sister’s screams paired with mine as we were thrown around, her body launching forward as the car was slammed into a large tree, finally stopping the vehicle completely.

I slowly looked around, taking in my surroundings. The car was totaled for sure, from the driver’s seat I could see that the front of the car was banged up. Every window was broken or scratched in some way, and leaves and branches were scattered about in the car.

My hands slowly let go of the steering wheel, shaking from the experience. My breaths were heavy and shaky, my eyes already swelling with tears as my mind raced with thoughts.

And I slowly turned my head towards Becca.

She was completely still.

My jaw dropped as I stared at her, drinking in the scene before me. Blood was splattered all over her seat and the dashboard, I quickly realized that blood was all over the right side of my jacket. Where her right eye used to be was a large branch, which had stabbed right through the windshield and into her skull. I glanced behind the seat and confirmed that the branch had gone through all the way, it reached to the row of seats behind us. The wood was stained crimson, the insides of the passenger seat headrest spilled on the floor.  

I remained silent for a moment, my heart racing frantically when I discovered that she wasn’t breathing. Her mouth was wide open in a silent scream, her left eye just half open. Her nose was scratched up and the right nostril was nonexistent at this point. Bits of skin was hanging onto the branch and her clothes, and I could’ve sworn some of it was bits of her destroyed eyeball.

Nervous giggles left my throat as I buried my face in my hands, unable to get rid of the hellish image in my head. It was horrid way to die.

And it seemed no matter how hard I tried, it didn’t work.

I barely noticed the tears that streamed down my face as sirens wailed in the distance, coming this way to investigate. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone heard the crash and called the cops to investigate. Whoever called the cops likely had no idea just what a horrible scene they were about to stumble upon.

How long would it take?

It was eleven at night, it was dark outside and not even the stars provided a decent amount of light. The police could be investigating for up to an hour for all I knew before they found us.

I thought about screaming to get their attention, but I realized that my voice was hoarse. Spending the last hour yelling and screaming, along with other activities in the last few days, had made my voice weak and scratchy.

No.

Even if the police got here with an ambulance, that wouldn’t change the fact that Becca was dead.

With a heavy sigh, I raised a weak left arm, pressing my middle finger against my thumb.

“At least I get another chance, you crazy bitch.” I chuckled, snapping my fingers.

In an instant, the car and Becca disappeared.

A rush of sound hit me with great force as I walked inside the chaotic household.