Vertigo

Content warning: gun violence

Amber held herself tight, watching the red and blue police lights harmonize with one another. How did this happen? Hours ago, it was a normal party. Now, at 3:39am, everyone is outside. Women are wailing like banshees as the men use all their strength to keep them from falling onto the ground. The police radios emit unintelligible instructions for the cops as they talk to the EMS at the scene. How the hell did this happen?

***

               Amber walked over to the table where the refreshments were. She was hoping to find some snacks, as well, but those seem to be a rare find at a college party. This party seemed to be a hit with the other goers. Held in a small rowhome about two miles away from the campus, there seemed to be a mix of students and nonstudents. While it wasn’t uncommon for nonstudents to attend college parties, there were regulars. While the regulars were there, there were some new faces, as well.

               Amber spotted her friend Mikey, seated on a couch across from the dance floor. He was easily recognizable, with his golden-brown shoulder length hair and his horn-rimmed glasses. He was alone and seemed focused very intently on his phone. Amber sauntered over to him and offered him a sip of her drink. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but sometimes he’d want a “fun drink,” his words, at a party. “What is it?” Amber stared at the fluorescent red liquid. “I’m not sure. I’m guessing it’s jungle juice since I can’t really figure out a specific liquor that’s in it.” Mikey made a face and eyed the concoction suspiciously. “It stinks to high hell.” Amber took another sip, as if to show him it was OK to drink. “It really does, but it gets the job done.”

               After a few moments of careful deliberation, Mikey took the Solo cup out of her hand and took a hearty sip. “That tasted like death, but if death was syrupy sweet.”

               “Would you like another cup to yourself?”

“No thank you, I’ll help you drink yours. There’s no way you should drink an entire cup of that stuff.”

               “Well, if that’s the case, you’ll have to stay close.”

               As the evening progressed, the cup was refilled several times. The longer the night went on, the more illicit substances were brought out. Amber smoked weed sometimes, sure, but she wasn’t a stoner. Mikey preferred smoking marijuana to drinking. But tonight, there were drugs you didn’t usually see on campus. There was ecstasy and cocaine, party drugs. Amber had tried ecstasy at a rave in her hometown once, and Mikey had had cocaine when he was hanging out with his older brother on his boat, but it wasn’t really either of their scenes. It didn’t make either one uncomfortable to be around it, but they both preferred not to do it. Especially when they had no idea where either was coming from.

               A girl approached the duo. She was visibly high on something, but Amber wasn’t sure what. She swayed slightly, and as Amber looked into her eyes, she saw the way her dilated pupils melted into her dark brown eyes. It gave the effect that her eyes were almost black.

               “You’re, like, really pretty.”

               “What?”

               “I said,” the girl’s voice strained over the music, “you’re really pretty!”

               “Oh! Well, thank you!”

               The interaction hinted that the girl might have been high on ecstasy. People on ecstasy were generally really loving, and generally wanted to dance. The way the sweat glistened off her dark forehead confirmed it.

               “Do you want to dance with me?” The girl was huffing and puffing, but it didn’t seem to slow her down. Amber glanced at Mikey, and he nodded towards the dance floor. Amber tried her best to convey that she wanted him to stay where he was with her eyes; hopefully, he got the psychic messages she was sending to him.

               Amber took one final sip from the cup before she was led to the dancefloor.

               “What’s your name?”

               “Violet!”

               Violet had beautiful teeth. They were so white, they practically glowed blue from the blacklight illuminating the DJ station. Amber looked behind her, checking to see if Mikey was still in the kitchen doorway, but there were too many people. She would text him if he weren’t there when she was done.

               The DJ played V.I.C.’s “Wobble,” and there were shouts of excitement. Suddenly, there were more people on the dance floor than Amber thought could possibly fit in the house. “Do you know how to do the wobble?” Violet was right next to her, grinning from ear to ear. “Yeah, but I get turned around pretty easily. I think I’ll be able to do it with this many people, though.” Violet laughed.

               The dance concluded, and as quickly as the people appeared on the dance floor, they dispersed. “Do you want some Molly?”

               The nonchalant way Violet asked caught Amber off guard. “Wha- no, thank you.” Violet looked almost disappointed. “Do you go to school at Loyola?” Violet nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! I’m a sophomore.” Amber smiled. “I’m a junior. So is my friend over there… well, wherever he is now, he’s a junior, too.”

               Bang

               “The fuck do you think that was,” Amber said, glancing around the room for clues.

               Bang

               Violet, without warning, grabbed Amber’s arm and started running towards the door.

               “Those are guns, oh my god that was a fucking gun!”

               Suddenly, before Amber could process what Violet had said, there was a stampede towards the door. “We need to get out of here,” Violet screamed over the din of frightened shouts.

               Amber had no choice but to follow Violet; she had an ironclad grip on her arm. Despite both wearing heels, neither stumbled. Violet didn’t let go of Amber’s arm until they were two blocks away. “Are you ok,” Violet panted. “Yeah, I think so.” As soon as those words came out of her mouth, her blood ran cold.

               “I need to check on my friend,” Amber shrieked. “My friend might still be in the house!” She turned to run back towards the house, but Violet stopped her.

               “You can’t do that.”

               “Whoever it was must be long gone.”

               “You don’t want to be involved.”

               “I don’t even know anyone; I just need to make sure Mikey is ok.” Violet and Amber stood in anxious silence for what felt like hours. “Fine. But be safe. And definitely be smart about it. If it doesn’t feel right, turn right back around.” Amber looked her in her deep brown eyes. It might have been the streetlights, but her pupils seemed to be smaller than they were while they were dancing. “Give me your phone number in case I don’t hear from you.” The two of them exchanged numbers, and Amber turned around to run back to the house.

***

               Amber reached the house before the cops did. There were people outside the house, both partygoers and neighbors alike; wanting to find out what happened. A girl was outside the house with blood on her dress, crying. “Mikey?” Amber was surprised to her how her own voice sounded; so scared and defenseless. There was no sign of him.

               As Amber went to grab her phone to call him, two police cars showed up. One cop went out to talk to the crying girl, and another went in the house. It was like something out of a movie. One of those movies that you watch, and you say “oh, that would never happen to me.” The cop talking to the crying girl said something into the radio on his chest, and within moments, three ambulances appeared. Amber hit call, and Mikey’s phone went straight to voicemail. Crap.

               After sending several texts, she sat on the grass outside. She sent text after text to Mikey. He’s on his way to his apartment, and when he gets home and charges his phone, he’ll text me. She sent a text to Violet, to tell her what was going on. Cops, ambulances, and no Mikey. The seconds felt like hours, and she looked at her phone every two seconds to see if Mikey had responded.

               Amber held herself tight, watching the red and blue police lights harmonize with one another. How did this happen? Hours ago, it was a normal party. Now, at 3:39am, everyone is outside. Women are wailing like banshees as the men use all their strength to keep them from falling onto the ground. The police radios emit unintelligible instructions for the cops as they talk to the EMS at the scene. How the hell did this happen?