My chin is tucked into my collarbone and my mouth is slightly ajar, making low, slow rasping noises. My hands are holding the sheet over my curled up body, attempting to keep the harrassing light out of my eyes-- my racoon caked in mascara eyes.
Where is my water? What time is it? Where is my phone? Am I dead?
No, but I wish I was to end this agony, this punishment for the night before.
Slowly standing for the first time, my knees wobble and my hands shake. My vision still seems to be sideways from laying so long.
Where are my shoes? Where is my jacket? Where is my ID?
How much does a Rusty's bloody mary cost?
Will my roommate drive?
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