The Property Of: Neena Eellante | ✓ |

5.

I never realised how loud music was.
How strong alcohol was.

It was sweaty and hot at the party, yet I shivered when I saw him. He gestured me over, he was smiling.

I smiled back, not because I wanted to but that's just what people do when they're nervous. Or maybe, that's just me.

I've never watched anyone do drugs, never experienced the rush of happiness that they all craved.

You know, if you hug someone for 3 seconds or longer it releases dopamine (a hormone). This hormone makes you feel happy. 
Huh, imagine if we didn't take drugs to get high — happy... we hugged people. Weird.

Ears ringing, I retreated to the pool side and away from something I'd get addicted to, who wouldn't be addicted to happiness?

There was this boy by the pool and gosh you should've seen his eyes. The brightest blue i'd ever seen. His hair the colour of coal, even darker circles under his eyes and a cigarette between his fingers, he swayed on the edge of the pool.

To my sheer surprise he was singing.

He was singing,
'When the night has come and the land is dark...'

I stared at him in disbelief. He was alone and if the intoxicated boy were to fall into the water, who knew of his lungs would hold out against his drunk brain telling him to take deep breathes.

I walked to him. He jumped when I put an arm around his shoulder to hold him steady.

"You should go inside." I had said, I knew I should've sounded more concern but I couldn't muster much sympathy. Everyone is drunk in their own way.

"Why?" He laughed, a drunken laugh that held no real purpose but made his eyes water, "The night wasn't made for us hide away in."

Taking a breath I didn't know I was holding, "Yeah, I know." Rambling in an effort to tug the boy away from the pool, "The day is scarier than the night."

He stopped abruptly, "Why's that?" He resisted and it was then I realised how large he was, how weak I was.

Sighing, I let go of his shirt. "Because there's no where to hide in the light. People can tell if your laughing or crying, or whatever shit you're feeling."

I asked him why he sat alone. He paused then replied drunkly, "Can't alone just be enough?"