B1 — 20. One Day; Blackout

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She felt herself wake, but it was as if she were in a lucid dream.  Energy brimmed over itself within her, rushing out in a stream of power, her vision blacked.  Flashes echoed across her brain like droplets of water on a still pond. A large group of people dancing around her—loud sounds and lights—Nilly on a turntable, and finally emptiness.

* * *

Sora hissed as if a screw drilled into her brain and she groaned groggily.  Opening an eye, she found nothing but light. Shielding her vision, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the brilliance.  She soon found that it wasn’t quite as bright as she’d first thought. She studied her surroundings, blankly examining iron bars.  Several women were around her looking sick. Wincing as another spike drilled into her skull, she asked, “What happened?”

All heads turned to a short blonde-haired woman that was stretched out on a bench.  She eyed Sora questioningly. “Vivian, is that you? You seem a lot younger … are you underage?”

Sora shook her head, unbound hair swinging across her vision.  Pressing her palm against her forehead, she tried to think, but that hurt.  “I—can’t remember anything from last night.” She started to feel the urge to vomit from the cell’s lingering smells, the scent of waste and alcohol permeating the air.

The woman laughed, making several of the other woman stir and groan.  “I doubt you would! You downed over thirty shots last night … and that’s what I saw.”

“What?”  Sora asked.  “I don’t drink.”

The woman shook with silent laughter.  “Don’t drink? You drank three men to the hospital!”

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“I’ve never had alcohol in my life.”  Sora insisted, but brought her hand up to her mouth and puffed out a breath of air.  She almost choked, and her vision glossing as the overpowering scent of alcohol coated her senses, and she felt like throwing up.

Laughing again, the woman said, “I don’t know how you drank that much, but you’re one crazy girl.  Dancing and drinking over eight hours and somehow you kept the party going all through the night—even some cops got in on it.  The best time I’ve ever had, but it got insane near the end. Fires and lights everywhere, eight blocks of city power were cut—I think I might have been too drunk to remember properly, but you kicked down a wall and started several fights.”

Sora felt sick.  “No—there has to be a mistake.”  Making her way to the bars, she called out for someone.  The other women in the cell groaned and leaned up against the walls, staring at her in confusion.

A guard walked over and stared down at her with a deep frown.  “What do you want?”

Sora swallowed at the man’s hard expression.  “I—I think there’s been a mistake—why am I here?”

The guard huffed and scoffed.  “Your name’s Sora Moore, age fifteen, sixteen tonight, and your father’s name is Jarlath Moore?”

Sora was taken aback.  “Yes—but how did you know that?”

The guard frowned, shaking his head.  “It was on your State ID. Now sit quietly and wait for your dad to bail you out.”  He huffed, muttering, “If my kid racked up eighty grand in bail, I’d let them rot.”

Sora felt anger flash through her mind and shouted, “Hey!”  The man turned with a lifted eyebrow.

“What do you…”  He cut off as Sora made eye contact with him.

Snarling, Sora said, “Let. Me. Out!”  The other women in the jail watched with gaping mouths as the guard took out a set of keys and unlocked the cell, allowing Sora to leave and closed the cell door after her.  Staring into the man’s eyes again, she said, “Guide me to the exit!”

The man began walking down the hall, gesturing for her to follow.  He showed her to the back door and opened it for her to walk through.  Sora sighed with relieved bliss as she stood under the open sky and the sun beat down upon her.  Stretching, tail stiff, she sighed with relief. It was a little past noon on a beautiful sunny day.  Her headache faded instantly, and her nausea evaporated. Energy brimming again, Sora’s worries vanished, her brain cleared, and joy washed over her.

Turning to the man with a wide smile as energy radiated from her, she said, “Go find some music and more alcohol!”  Smiling as she grabbed the man’s keys, she ran back into the station with renewed vigor. “The party doesn’t stop!”

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