Blackout

I strolled through the city. My mom used to take me every New Year’s Eve before we went to my aunt’s apartment. I looked up at the skyline and took a breath of cold air. New Year’s Eve had been the same every year since. Go to my aunt’s party, remember my mom, get black out drunk to forget, wake up at home, and promise to never drink again… until next year. To be fair, I never broke that promise; New Year’s Eve was the only time I let myself drink.

All the businesses were closed, and the side streets were dark. The sound of distant pop music caught my attention. Despite being in New York every year, I had never seen the ball drop in person. I turned the corner into Time Square, and- oh yeah, that’s why. Hordes of people packed the street.

I checked my phone: 11 o’clock. I was supposed to be at my aunt’s place, not that she would ever notice if I wasn’t. She packed her apartment as tight as the street and didn’t pay attention to her guests’ comings and goings. Still, I felt the need to keep up appearances. I pushed my way through the crowd.

Oof. I bumped into a woman in a long, black trench coat like the one my mother used to have. Her face was shrouded in a black net, like the ones worn to funerals. An unusual pick for New Year’s Eve, but I didn’t judge; I had seen weirder things in New York.

“I thought I might find you here.”

I took a hard look, but it was hard to see past the veil. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?” I asked.

She hesitated. “Um…no.” We stared at each other for a moment. “Do you think you could point me to this address?” The woman asked, holding out a slip of paper.

Ah, one of my aunt’s party guests. I took a moment before forcing a smile. “You must be friends with my aunt. I was just heading there now.”

We squirmed our way out of the crowds, and I looked back. “It’s just 2 blocks that way.”

The woman smiled at me. “Please. Let me buy you a drink.”

“Oh, no thank you. I don’t really-” drink…except on New Year’s Eve. “My aunt always supplies plenty of booze.” Enough bitter liquid to make me forget how much I hated her.

“Psh. Not that garbage.” She said, walking away. “I know this wonderful little hot chocolate stand.”

I walked after her. When I was a kid, my mom would always bring a cup of the best hot chocolate to the party because I couldn’t drink champagne. We walked up to a small stand, and I smiled. It had to be the only place still open. ‘So this is where my mom got our drinks. White-Chocolate Matcha’ I said in my head as the woman ordered it out loud.

I turned to her in surprise. “I didn’t tell you my order.”

She looked caught off guard. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want something else?”

“No. I just- that’s what my mom always got me.”

“Your mother has good taste.” She smiled.

We sat down at a table. I breathed out and watched as my cold breath tangled with the hot steam from the cup.

“So, any new year’s resolutions?” she asked, breaking the silence.

I looked up at her for a second before leaning back in my chair and looking away again. “No. I don’t really do New Year’s resolutions.” I said, running my finger along the rim of my cup. “My mom used to make me pick something, but…” my voice trailed off. “Oh, I got a plant. I’ll try not to let it die I guess.” My eyes locked onto the smoke rising from the hot chocolate.

“30…29…28…” I heard the distant sound of the crowd counting down.

I checked my phone again. 11:59 “Oh no. I’m supposed to be at my aunt’s penthouse.” I started to get up and gather my things. “I-I have to-”

“You’re not going to be able to run there now.”

I stopped and let out a sigh. “You’re right.” And this had actually been my best New Year’s Eve in a while. I couldn’t see the ball over the buildings, but I turned to the general direction of Time Square “5…4…3…2…”

The blinding lights from the city clicked off. The darkness cascaded towards us, and I heard the distant screams from the shadows. Blackout.

I frantically turned around. “What’s going on?”

“Alina, sweetheart. Calm down.” The woman’s voice was calm and soothing.

Wait. “When did I tell you my nam-” The woman blew into my face. A puff of sparkles, and I fell to the floor.

* * * * *

Sunlight streamed in through the window, and I groaned. I had the most piercing headache. Whoo. I had almost forgotten what a hangover felt like.

I checked my phone. ‘Apologies. We didn’t get a chance to chat last night. Well, next year. Happy New Year, darling. I’m proud of you.’ I didn’t care how proud you were; your sister would have been disgusted. The lingering effects of alcohol still wrecked my mind. I could almost hear her disappointed sigh. ‘Sweetheart, you did this last year. You need to learn from your mistakes. You need to learn from my mistakes.’ I scrolled up in the chat.

‘Alina, I’m throwing a New Year’s party at my house if you would like to come.’

‘Sure, I’ll see you then’

‘Apologies. We didn’t get a chance to chat last night. Well, next year. Happy New Year, darling. I’m proud of you.’

‘Don’t worry, thanks’

Those were last year’s texts. The same thing every year, verbatim. That’s all we ever said to each other. I could program a robot, and she would never notice. My aunt lived up in her penthouse, throwing parties, sending an obligatory text once a year, never taking responsibility for killin-

‘Don’t worry, thanks’ Send.