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I put on something that could somewhat work, or perhaps might at least grab someone’s eyes. I wore an outfit that sort of supported the other: a green t-shirt and dark blue jeans, which I knew would be perfect for a day like today where it was very sunny and hot outside.

I went outside, ready for my first day of my new life with my friends, or at least with my friend, Greg. I have not been to a party in such a long time, but who knows what may happen, so I’ll have to keep an eye on him, even if he may have no plans to try anything with me, I know he is the type that likes to play with people’s minds.

My mom dropped me off at the place, and the lights were completely blinding in the night sky. The grass was blown, but it looked great as well with all the colors everywhere, and the decorations were very nice. The music was loud, and I could hear it coming from the place, which was a good sign.

“Oh boy,” Mom said with a winced face, seeing the place herself from the car window. But then she smiled, giving me a thumbs-up before she drove away. I waved goodbye before I walked up to the place with a smile on my face. There was a pathway that was filled with grass and trees, and I could see people dancing, laughing, and having fun. The lights were flickering like stars, and I walked towards the entrance.

I stepped inside the door of the building.

And when I tell you that the place was crazy, I mean crazy, and I don’t mean just like in the movies, where there was some sort of disaster that occurred or something like that. There were many lights everywhere, and people were everywhere: some were dancing while others were just sitting around.

The music was booming like a siren, and everyone there seemed to be having a good time at this point, although some of them looked really drunk already as well as stumbling around and slurring their words as they spoke them out loud.

I couldn’t stay here, I couldn’t.

.....

Then I saw Greg walking towards me, his hands holding what seemed to be orange juice or something, and his face seemed to be smiling at me as he walked towards me with his eyes half closed. He looked like an older version of myself, wearing a black shirt with a white button-down shirt underneath it which was unbuttoned with his hair slightly messy as if someone just combed it out and let it air dry for a moment.

He sat down beside me at a table with a cup of juice as well as some sort of cookies or something.

“Hey, you came!” he shouted with a smile, before he started to laugh out loud, taking his cup and drinking the contents of it all at once in one gulp.

I smiled back at him. “Yeah, of course!” I said before I looked at what was inside the cup. It was orange juice, like I said.

“Why does everyone look drunk?” I asked, looking at one of them who were just talking loudly and laughing loudly as they walked by us.

He nodded his head in response. “It’s called the ‘Cuban Special.'” He laughed loudly again and took a sip of his drink again, and it seemed to be working on him as well because he was feeling a bit better by now, while I still felt quite uneasy in my stomach.

“What is this place?” I muttered, feeling uneasy at this point in time as Greg put his hand on my shoulder, looking at me with his blue eyes before he started to laugh loudly again.

“Everything...” he said queasily, and worry came over my face.

“Everything... what?” I asked him in concern.

He laughed even louder. “You’ll see,” he said with a smirk on his face. He looked around, his eyes completely blank as if there was nothing, as if he was in the vacuum of space that was taking him away.

I gulped in nervousness. What was he doing? He was acting like he had taken a shot of some kind of drug that made him see everything differently-but why?

Fear rose in my heart as he slowly leaned to the side, looking behind him towards the kitchen area and the staff there as he looked around the place again. Then he looked back at me with his head tilted to the side with his eyes wide open, like a deer that had just been run over by a car.

Suddenly, he dropped.

I shrieked in shock, unsure of what to do or what just happened . But then I saw Greg get back up on the ground while laughing out loud once more. He looked over at me with a wide smile on his face. “That’s right,” he said in a whisper-like voice as he pointed over to the people who were dancing, as if they were monkeys or something, or maybe puppies in the hands of some strange person who was just going to eat them for lunch.

“That’s right.” What did that mean?

I needed to get him out of here, so I could get him to safety. This was no way to have a good time in this place, I couldn’t have a good time here. I felt so uneasy by now as if something was wrong with me. But what was it? I dragged him out of the building, and laid by the stairs.

“Greg, you need to go home,” I said, feeling even more uneasy than before.

He shook his head slowly in response. “No,” he said slowly in response, but then he put his hands on my shoulders as if to hold onto me so that I wouldn’t move or get away from him.

“Yes, you need to,” I said, looking at him with concern. He didn’t seem to respond at all, and more of just stood there with a blank expression. “What’s wrong Greg?” I asked, looking at him. “What’s wrong?” I asked, again-determined to get an answer out of him. “Nothing!” he shouted, his eyes glaring at me with anger. He was breathing hard as if an animal was kicking inside of his chest. Shock was written across my face as I looked at him. I have never-ever-seen him this bad, and I mean this bad.

Like it as if he was off the deep end, with nothing but hate and emptiness inside. I almost cried just looking at him, but all of a sudden his eyes returned back to normal. “Sorry Greg...” he muttered, looking at me. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I said to him, patting him on the back. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“A lot is wrong,” he said, looking at me. “I’m tired, I’m afraid, I’m stuck.” Confusion raced through my mind wondering-stuck of what? What was he afraid of? What happened to him?

It must’ve been personal because he clearly isn’t doing well. He looked at me, tears building in his eyes. “Remember when I was gone for two weeks?” he said, and I could remember the last two weeks, feeling alone. That’s the initial reason why I wanted to become popular, so that I would have many friends.

I know I didn’t tell you guys this, but yes-this was the initial reason why I wanted to become popular.

“Yeah, I’m suffering from PTSD,” Greg said. “Every time that I just take a shower or do something, I always get these visions. These visions, these-these-these visions that hurt me, every single time.”

He began to breathe hard in anger, as if he was now completely engulfed in fury and hatred. “Whether it may be some other mission, or just seeing you die. My own brother, dead from Rocke’s meaty hands. He may be gone, but not in my life. And I don’t know what to-to do about it...”

He covered his face in shame and tears, but then he looked back at me. “You know that orange juice that I supposedly had?” he said.

I moved over to him, and patted his back, looking at him straight in the eye. I was speechless, unsure what to say or what to even do. “It’s going to be okay...” I said. “If I can make it through, you can.”

He continued to cry, and I’m even surprised I didn’t even begin to cry. “I’m soon to start therapy by this weekend,” he said. “Hopefully I get through this. I just tried to hide it from you because I didn’t want to make things weird between us. I didn’t want you to treat me any different, but just how it’s always been. Friends who stuck out for one another.”

I nodded, and I hugged him, holding him under my arms as he began to cry out tears. I needed to stay strong for him, because that’s what friends do.