Ulysses
"Get your girlfriend up, we gotta go."
The words bounced and clanged around my head. I wasn't sure exactly where I was. I felt a sharp pain scorching through my lower back, near my kidneys, and realized that wherever I was, I'd been drinking the night before.
"Uly, get up!"
The voice slowly became sharper and more clear as my eyes pried themselves open, sticky and slow. My throat burned with dry bile and the pain trickled down my throat like I'd been drinking fire. Right as all the pains of my vices swirled together to lift my head from the silk bed sheet, the pain in my back was met with a horrible, wet slap. My eyes snapped into position, and I rolled off the bed.
The impact woke me, my headache, and my swirling stomach. My head jutted itself up over the bed to let me catch sight of Randal shaking the hell out of a torn black dress full of what I assumed was a girl.
"Randal, where the fuck are we?"
Randal stopped his shaking and turned his head to see me with horrified eyes. Between labored breaths, his mouth started to move. The words that slithered out engaged me with a calm yet shaky demeanor which I could never hope to emulate. Not hungover as I was, anyway.
"Uly, get over here and wake this stupid whore up."
I yanked myself up to my knees with my elbows on the edge of the pillow top mattress. The muscles in my arms strained and cried in agony until I eventually gained enough balance. I reached over and shook the girl laying on the bed. Her arm and shoulder were limp under my weak force. Her skin felt smooth and pale, much like the sheets she was laying on.
"Randal, who is this chick?"
"I don't know man, some girl you brought back from the bar."
"Also, where the hell are we?" I asked, still attempting to wake the girl.
"I don't know that either, dude. I don't want to find out either."
I kept shaking the girl for another few seconds as my swimming brain waded to the surface. I climbed haphazardly onto the bed and slid two fingers around her neck onto her jugular.
"Get your girlfriend up, we gotta go."
The words bounced and clanged around my head. I wasn't sure exactly where I was. I felt a sharp pain scorching through my lower back, near my kidneys, and realized that wherever I was, I'd been drinking the night before.
"Uly, get up!"
The voice slowly became sharper and more clear as my eyes pried themselves open, sticky and slow. My throat burned with dry bile and the pain trickled down my throat like I'd been drinking fire. Right as all the pains of my vices swirled together to lift my head from the silk bed sheet, the pain in my back was met with a horrible, wet slap. My eyes snapped into position, and I rolled off the bed.
The impact woke me, my headache, and my swirling stomach. My head jutted itself up over the bed to let me catch sight of Randal shaking the hell out of a torn black dress full of what I assumed was a girl.
"Randal, where the fuck are we?"
Randal stopped his shaking and turned his head to see me with horrified eyes. Between labored breaths, his mouth started to move. The words that slithered out engaged me with a calm yet shaky demeanor which I could never hope to emulate. Not hungover as I was, anyway.
"Uly, get over here and wake this stupid whore up."
I yanked myself up to my knees with my elbows on the edge of the pillow top mattress. The muscles in my arms strained and cried in agony until I eventually gained enough balance. I reached over and shook the girl laying on the bed. Her arm and shoulder were limp under my weak force. Her skin felt smooth and pale, much like the sheets she was laying on.
"Randal, who is this chick?"
"I don't know man, some girl you brought back from the bar."
"Also, where the hell are we?" I asked, still attempting to wake the girl.
"I don't know that either, dude. I don't want to find out either."
I kept shaking the girl for another few seconds as my swimming brain waded to the surface. I climbed haphazardly onto the bed and slid two fingers around her neck onto her jugular.
