The party is always being held at a friend of a friend's house. It had started to rain heavily on the drive over, we pulled up at about seven and the sky was already dark from the storm clouds. Mark got out of the car and greeted a mass of people huddling under the car port. They all knew him, he was always the life of these shindigs. I bypassed the mob of people and went inside. I was relieved to find a few folks I knew, and could half-way stand, once I entered the house. Among them was my friend-of-a-friend Robert. He was seated at the head of a dining room table. He was flanked on all sides by booze. He was a big guy, tall and fat, he was part of the older crowd. The "old enough to buy beer" crowd. I liked him, though. Partying was an occasional thing to him, not like some of the other kids who live from one party to the next like parasites feeding off easy drugs and drunk girls. He was a good guy. He saw me and beckoned me over. "Hey, man, didn't expect you here. Check out this little shindig I funded. Here, lemme pour you a shot." He did, than we conversed and drank. A few shots of Jager later, he's telling me his entire life story. I politely listened to him talk about going to college, and his plans after that. "Wow." I thought. "Someone with actual plans." Hearing him talk about his future, only made me hate my lack of one even more. Untill that point, I'd done a pretty good job of suppressing the feeling. Taking a few more shots for the road, I stumbled to a couch and sat down. Next to me sat a young girl, who was obviously inhebriated, and next to her sat one of those party hopping young men I had mentioned earlier. He wasn't drunk, he just looked at her and saw easy prey. I listened to him boast, "So, yeah, I've been in a band for a few months now...we just released our first demo. We kinda sound like Attila, but our lyrics are about partying and s***." I recognised him from school, he wasn't even in a band. If it wasn't for the alcohol, I wouldn't have said anything, but in my drunken daze, I saw myself as a vigilante. A shitfaced vigilante, yes, but still a vigilante. I laughed audibly. Sometimes that's all it takes. "Something funny, bro?", he retorted. I didn't even look at him. I turned to the girl and said "The only band this kid is in, is the jazz band at school, and before you ask, he plays the trombone." She giggled and his face turned red. "Why don't you go get another drink, dude." I looked up at him with amusement and said in my best faux-sophisticate tone, slurring my words as I went, "As you can see, sir. I believe I've had quite enough to drink. You, however, look parched. Perhaps it is you who needs the drink." He was less-than-amused at my c*** blocking antics. He sauntered over to me than leaned in close. All I could focus on was his snaggleteeth. As he talked, I tried not to focus on his grill, but the more I tried to focus on his words, the more my mind meandered towards visions of impeding dentist visits in this child's future. I chuckled. He gave up trying to talk to me and walked away, incensed that he couldn't act tough to someone who was laughing that hard. The young lady turned to me and we shook hands. Now that I got a good look at her, I could see that she was a gorgeous girl, with deep blue eyes, and an entrancing smile.(everything is entrancing when you're on the sauce.) I didn't want to be just another guy looking to score, there was something about her I couldn't shake. I introduced myself, but before we could exchange pleasantries, Mark grabbed me by the shoulder and hoisted me onto my feet. "Woah, dude, I've been trying to find you!" He exclaimed in his best surfer-kid tone. He always talked like a surfer when he was stoned. "Feel like tokin', I scored some primo stuff from one of the dudes outside." Smoking was the whole reason I was even there, and in my shortmindedness, I couldn't say no. I bid adieu to my new lady-friend, whose name I neglected to catch, and followed Mark to his car. I would never see that girl again. "How's the party been treatin' you?" He asked, "Can't complain, I-" He cut me off. "Dude, I have been talking to this chick outside all night, she totally wants to ride my d-train". "Who the f*** says 'd-train'?", I scoffed jokingly. "Fine," he retorted, "This lass wants to engage in intercourse with yours truly, better, dick?" I shook my head. I didn't know he had it in him. He continued to tell me about the girl he'd met as we entered his car. He sat facing me in the drivers seat as I sat shotgun, resting my back against the door. "Smell this s***", he said, handing me about a gram of what looked like very high mids. I shook my head in acceptence. The smell of pot always reminded me of my childhood. My father used to always come home from work smelling of the stuff. Like father like son, I guess. He packed some of it into a bowl he had stashed underneath the center console, and hit it. He continued to rant and rave about the girl he'd met as he passed me the pipe. I took a good hit, and finally, I could relax. I always felt guilty about smoking. Mostly because I used it as a crutch. "All day can't be a total waste, if you're totally wasted all day." It was all just bullshit to keep me proccupied, but it worked. As Mark went on and the bowl was finally cashed, I didn't feel peacefull at all. Mark wouldn't shut up, and all I wanted was to enjoy some silence. I can make the laziest days stressfull for myself. In Mark's voice, I heard the blaring T.V from that morning, I heard the bubbling of the empty fishtank, the drunken monotone of my father. Everything I had hidden away and suppressed finally exploded. I snapped. "Mark, shut the f*** up". He looked at me in astonishment. I raised my voice to an angry snarl, "Can you just shut the f*** up for one second and enjoy some peace and f*ing quiet?" He was shocked, "Dude, you need to chill." I calmed down, but still seething, I replied, "No, you need to f*ing chill, I don't care about this chick you're supposedly going to lay. It doesn't f*ing mean anything. You still drive your mom's car around, the f*** are you trying to prove, huh?" He was incredulous at my outburst. "It's just all in good fun, dude." "You need to grow the f*** up, we all do." I pulled the door handle behind me and flopped out onto the curb, hitting my head. I stumbled to my feet and tried to walk away, but I felt like I was on a ship at sea. I heard Mark call out from the car, "Where are you goin'!?" I didn't have an answer. It was darker now and the rain puddles reflected ominous glows from the street lights. I didn't know where I was going, I felt horrible, I felt torrents of depression, hitting me at once. I wanted to go drown in a canal somewhere and that's what I aimed to do. I managed to make it a ways down the street when I heard someone calling my name. Even in my haze, I could see it was Robert. He was walking towards me, the rain bouncing off of the football jersey he was wearing. "You're lucky I came outside when I did, where the hell are you going, man?" I couldn't answer, I felt horrible, I didn't know where I was going, but I knew why I was going there, I could never confess it. He continued, "Let's get something to eat, you need it. I'll take you home, don't worry 'bout it." I tried to be courteous and refuse, but he insisted. And so we left the party.

We arrived at McDonalds, the rain had stopped and I got out of the car. I followed Robert inside. The flourescent lighting hurt my head, and I squinted as I entered. He sat down at a booth, and in reference to his weight, jokingly said, "Please, step into my office." I sat down, trying to avoid eye contact. Trying to shrink inside of myself, though I was still heavily inhebriated, the fact of how I had acted finally sunk in. My entire life's situation sunk in. Under the flourescent lighting, I felt the strain of growing up, and I utterly hated it, I wanted to be a kid again. I realized why I was so attracted to that girl at the party. The blue eyes, the smile, the pureness. Not a care in the world. Robert derailed that train of thought.
"So what the hell was that all about at the party?"
I looked at him, expecting scorn, but instead I saw a genuine caring expression on his face. I remembered that I had listened to his entire life's story back at the party, and now, he wanted to return the favor. So, I told him. Over burgers and fries I told him about the nagging in the back of my head. Of my inability to stop worrying over the trivial. How it was impossible for me to just 'chill'.
He sat and listened to all of it. And when I was done, I felt free from all the oppressiveness I had felt. He started talking, and now, I listened, "Listen, man, I was like you. I obsessed over everything. It's part of life. You just have to find a way to raise yourself above the bullshit. You gotta fly above all the trivial stuff, because the future comes, whether you want it to or not. you're not a complete idiot, even if the bump on your head suggests otherwise." I scratched my head, and felt a very sizeable lump had formed. "You're a smart kid, you'll be okay. Just hold back on the alcohol a little bit." I shrugged off his advice. "How do you suppose I 'fly' above all the bullshit." He smiled and sarcastically added, "Think happy thoughts?" I shook my head and laughed. I felt okay, for once, minus the bump.
My neighborhood was pitch black when Robert pulled up to my house. "Alright, man, I'll be seein' ya. Take it easy." I got out of his car and turned around to face him, "Thanks", I said, "...for everything". "All in a days work, bro." He drove off into the darkness. I was alone now, but all around me wildlife was teeming. Crickets and frogs sang thier individual songs out in the pitch dark landscape. I felt complete, for once, I felt like everything was going to be alright. I laid down in the grass and looked up at the stars. Visions of children in the woods clouded my head. Living in the woods, free from everything. Free from every worry, free from time itself. Forever young and happy. I dreamnt I could be one of those boys. I dreamnt they left me the stuffed rabbit and that if I ventured far enough into the bush, I just might be able to reach them. I pictured brilliant lights in the forest strung from tree house to tree house. A dazzling display of colors danced in my head.
It was still dark when I awoke, and I was still slightly buzzed. I went to the back of the house and took the screen off the window, hoping to make a covert entry. I must have made a lot of noise, because by the time I lifted the window up, I saw him standing in the darkness of my room. I didn't hear the shot. All I heard was an intense ringing in my ears as I fell backwards into the grass. I couldn't see anything, but I tasted blood in the back of my throat. It seemed like hours as everything closed in around me. My mind raced. I thought of the girl with the deep blue eyes and the smile I'd never see again, I thought of those imaginary kids in the woods, I thought about fireworks on the 4th of July and stuffed rabbits. "Everything is okay".
I'd found my happy thought.