Watching her nervously lift the tall bottle of clear liquid, I saw
Beckie gently pour several vodka shots into tiny glasses, one by one.
Six giggling girls and I sat excitably in a discounted hotel room,
glamorously preparing ourselves for a predictable summer night in the
town centre of Newquay. Getting drunk, dancing with strangers and raving
to ear-killing music was the perfect night we had in mind. Six inch
heels planted on the ends of our long, fake-tanned legs, we headed out
of the shabby door to seek what could only be the best night of our
lives.
Hundreds of rowdy teenagers roamed the streets, all there
as a result of one event; the celebration of our GCSE results.
Preparation for the mind blowing exams may have taken months for most of
us, but for others it took no revision at all.
Talk of foam
parties and nightclubs choked the throats of every sixteen year old
present. Spotting a popular one, I beckoned my friends forward. Deciding
to enter an ‘under 18’s foam party’ in a venue called Sailor’s, a rush
of excitement leaped through me. I had never been in one place with so
many different people my age.
Rumour had it that this was the
place to be, so we had extremely high hopes. It was around eleven
o’clock and the strobe lights of every club blinded the streets. Queuing
patiently, the sound of drunken laughter and high-pitched wolf whistles
from rowdy young men came about. My self-esteem shot up, I was sure
this was going to be the best night of my life.
Time passed like a
bullet from a gun. Before we knew it we looked like snowmen, foam
covering every inch of our bodies. The atmosphere was wild, crowds of
sixteen year olds jumped up and down, shrieking along to each song
played.
We were exhausted. Having the time of my life, I decided
to head to the bar for a soft drink. Beckie and the girls followed me
eagerly. We all tried to look as cool as possible, even if we were
soaking wet and covered in sticky foam.
Soon after, I noticed
Beckie acting strangely; I wondered what could have been wrong with her.
It seemed almost as if she had lost the ability to control each
movement. I decided to ignore it, but slowly I noticed something very
wrong.
I glanced over and Beckie was gone. My heart dropped.
Adrenaline rushed through my veins and my head started to spin.
Searching the dance floor for a particular girl was like searching for a
needle in a haystack. Time passed as normal for everyone else but for
me it seemed to race by. My mind was a horror film continuously
flickering from bad to worse. There were only six of us left. I alerted
the others as quickly as I could; I had never felt so afraid. Sprinting
out of the nightclub, we entered the empty Newquay streets. Breathing
heavily, I couldn’t control my anxiety. Where was she?!
Early
hours of the morning came around when all of a sudden we heard
something. An indistinct noise crept into my ears. The sound of faint
footsteps increased with each pace. Turning my head slowly, I watched a
insignificant silhouette nervously slink towards us. The shadow revealed
itself into an orange beam of light which immediately lit up a familiar
face. It couldn’t be. We froze, paralysed.
“BECKIE?!” we roared
in disbelief. Galloping toward her, we yelped with excitement. A feeling
of solid relief rushed through me. Hundreds of questions spilled out
past my lips uncontrollably like a tiny insect leaping through a prison
cell.
“I’m sorry”, she whimpered, breaking me off, “I don’t know what happened. One minute I was with you and the next I wasn’t”.
The
six of us then realised, of course, that nothing could be done about
the situation. No matter how many times we questioned Beckie the same
blank answer would reply.
The important thing was that we found
her, she was safe. This night is now only a memory. A memory of how we
nearly lost a friend to a Newquay Night. I pray that this never happens
to you.
No comments:
Post a Comment