Why The Stars Shine Across A Dull Sky...

As I reassemble all the pieces that seemingly have brought me here, I disruptively find myself looking up at the bleak sky filled with bright stars. Notice how I mentioned bleakness, but also the luminosity of the stars. Before you ask any questions on how I drove myself into this raging predicament, or if the tone of my voice causes you to be irate, I assure you that nothing you wish you could have had will pursue the massiveness of my regrets towards Billiam. 

I woke up at around 12:45. It rained, then stopped, then rained, then stopped. I was already tired from the party last night but remembered how lively Billiam was when he overindulged in the alcohol. He was never like that in my 12 years of proudly proclaiming him to be my very best friend. This is the very reason he did what he did, because of me— 

No, I'm not veering off course. I need to face this as he faced it. I rushed out of bed, then grabbed my phone— Too far. 

The day of the party: 3:00 p.m. 

When I got the invitation from Samantha, the first thing I did was call Billiam. He told me he had already received it, which had put me in the most jubilant and jovial of moods. I knew everything that happened at Samantha's parties, and with that being in mind, I couldn't do any of it alone, so I needed him with me. 

The day of the party: 5:00 p.m. 

Almost time for the party to start. I knew I wanted to chill with 'Bill for a couple more hours, so I jumped in my car, and drove in his direction. When I got there, he looked a mess. His hair smelt of tap water, and his clothes, they looked atrocious. Even with my powerful persuading skills, I couldn't convince him to change, not with his head-strong qualities. This same ugly outfit is the same one he took his li— Too far. 

The day after the party: 12:45 p.m. 

After the rain subsided, I grabbed my phone and called 'Bill. He told me his head hurt, but I told him it was because it was his first time being drunk. We blew with the wind for about 20 minutes until I proposed something to him I'll never forget. It sounded something like, "Yo 'Bill, bet you won't head to the liquor store and drink it up. You know what they say, 'Once you're drunk, you'll always,' never mind. I know you won't do it." I knew he hated when people dared him to do things, then took it back, which is why I wasn't surprised when he audaciously responded, "Hell no man, you not taking THAT back! Come over the crib, I'll be at the liquor store. I'm 19 right?" That was his fatal mistake, caused by me, his best friend since elementary. 

The day of the party: 8:00 p.m. 

The party was just getting started, as Billiam and I explored the whole world it seemed. We passed by kissing stations, one in which 'Bill stayed for minutes, booth stations, couple stations, and lastly the bar, inhabited by only the finest alcohols Samantha's dad purchased through affluence. This is how she became the most beloved girl at Prep National High. Once the drinks caught my eye, I did something I wouldn't regret at the moment, but soon I came to a realization. "Yo 'Bill, bet you won't get a drink," in which he responded, "More like bet you won’t get drunk! I'm on!!" 

The day after the party: 1:30 p.m. 

We were together in his room, as he opened up the first bottle. "Man you know I spent $50 on all these drinks. You owe me." To this, I responded, "Not if I don't drink any. My stomach can get weak at times," which was the boldest lie I ever dared tell 'Bill. I saw him take down the first 25.36 fluid once bottle of whiskey by himself which provoked me to share some of the beer he opened up next. 

I imagined he would stop there. 

I was wrong. 

The day of the party: 11:00 p.m. 

The party was almost at its climax, and 'Bill was at his 7th shot. As a good friend I cautioned, "Watch out man, they say 'When your own world's spinning, it's only from 2 things.'" Of course, the only word I got from him was, "Whatever," and to this, I released him to do his will, and he carried on until, "Man, my head hurts bad." 

The day after the party: 3:00 p.m. 

Billiam, to my hopes, was finally starting to slow down on the drinking, but I have no reason to believe his heartbeat was. "Man, I feel worse than last night bro." A slight, and only, a chill ran through my spine because I didn't want him to succumb to the alcohol, so I gave him lots of water, to which he eventually turned down. Then, the beginning of the end. He told me, "I'm starting to get sleepy again," and the idiotic version of me replied, "Before you hit the hay, get one more Beer in." Knowing 'Bill for as long as I did, I shouldn't have assumed he would say no, because his only reply was a sheer, "Ok, but you'll owe me the whole total of all this, $50." I really should've weighed my outcomes. 

As he popped open the can, I could see the light running from his eyes as he let the substance touch his lips. After this, he lay flat on his bead, and uttered something I will never forget, as he veered off the Earth, "I see stars, James." Uh, I hate that name, my name. "I do. They shine so brightly, but all around it, so dull James." A name that will be written in history books as, the worst, the fakest friend to ever put food to his lips. 

The day of the party: 2:00 a.m. 

Billiam just passed out.

The day after the party: 1:45 p.m. 

Billiam had passed out, for the second time, but I wasn't scared. I wasn't scared until he hadn't awakened for hours.

 Seven years after the party: 2:00 a.m. 

This story, it's is the reason I drink every day, every night until all the alcohol in the world runs out. It's the reason I feel bad that one day, I wake up, and he woke up. The next day, I woke up but laughed when he didn't. 

There are times where the dark, outweighs the light, and you'll be too, "In the moment," to realize a mistake. That's why after I convince myself to put down the bottle every night, I look at the stars. They shine around a dull sky. That light, I know it's from my best friend ever, Billiam.