𝐌𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

42 | Red and Blue Vision

Nothing is worse than drinking alone at a bar as a woman. I take that back, the only thing worse than drinking alone at a bar is drinking alone at your parents house watching shitty movies.

That brings me to here, sitting in bed with two empty bottles of cheap red wine that I found in Mum's kitchen. The shirt movie in question? The female version of Ghostbusters which I thought might be empowering but really it just gives me second hand embarrassment.

Mum is out for the night, meeting up with her 'gal pals' for a 'cheeky wine night'. She originally offered to stay home with me but I insisted that she not bail on her plans. I wonder if drinking with a bunch of middle aged women going through divorces would have been more enjoyable that right now.

I carefully put the empty bottles on the floor and got out of bed, the alcohol hitting me way harder than I had anticipated now that I had stood up. Stumbling to the kitchen to raid it for more alcohol, I sighed when there wasn't any. Mum didn't even have any spirits in the kitchen. What the fuck?

Her car keys sit on the entryway table and I know that getting behind the wheel is a bad idea. If I walked to the closest liquor store it would be about thirty minutes. If I drove however, I could be there and back in ten.

Fuck it, I can take the backstreets and avoid any cops driving along the main roads. It can't be that hard right? Taking the keys, I made a conscious effort to stay focused on only one thing at a time.

Y/N, you can do this. This is easy, people do it all the time. That's why it's a law in the first place.

Get in the car.
Start the car.
Drive down the drive way.
Turn right.
Accelerate.
Brake for corner.
Turn left.
Go straight.
Go straight.
Go straight.
Oh woah that car is pink.
Pink cars are kind of rare.
Tree.
Brake.
Brake.
Tree is getting closer.
Brake.
Fuck.

The music in the car seemed to be the only thing I could focus on right now. It was dark around me except for the red and blue lights illuminating the car dashboard. The air bag from my steering wheel had hit my face and I couldn't turn my neck. Everything is cold. Everything is bright.

I can see a police car. I can see an ambulance. There's a siren, but I can't tell if it's part of the song or not. I think I'm too drunk to comprehend anything going on right now.

Two men much larger than me help me out of the car and lift me onto a medical stretcher. It's a lot darker outside than inside my car. I like it. They ask me if I can wiggle my toes. They ask me if I can wiggle my fingers. They ask for my name. They ask if I know what day it is. Then they lifted me into the back of an ambulance.

I'm connected to an Intra Venous drip, the needle being pushed into my arm and a bag of fluids being hung up on the wall of the ambulance. I look around at them but they quickly tell me to keep my head straight as they put me in a neck brace.

"Sweetheart, we have your phone here with us. Who is your emergency contact?" One of the men asks me directly.

"Mum... Call my mum," I groan, feeling ridiculously drunk as his face becomes blurrier by the second.

"You don't have a contact under just 'Mum'. What's her first name?" He asks again. My vision becomes blurrier, darker. He taps my arm softly and tells his fellow paramedic to bring over 'the mask'. The clear plastic cup is places over my head and a gasp of fresh crisp air hits my lungs.

Good night.