Left you wanting more huh? Well, I can tell you that sh*t is about to hit the fan, but you already know that!
About this story:
I find myself exposed, naked in vulnerability here as I trace my steps back to a person I no longer associate with. I dig deep within to tell you of an inconceivably wild, crazy, mind-blowing experience I had when I was young, foolish and prone to disaster.
I took a little season hiatus but I just came back on air, ready with more action- are you ready for it?
If you just dropped in, you've got a few chapters to catch up on but my guess is, you won't have a problem going back once you've begun ;) Let's have a little flash back to what happened last!
RECAP:
Our conversation got deep and emotional as it had been known to in the past during these little ‘trips’ and started turning into a sob fest again. Two women, stuck in a foreign country where their only allies were criminals wanted by the feds… tends to draw out some tears and anger when alcohol is added to the mix.
Em was feeling trapped not just physically but emotionally. She had so much on her shoulders with the baby and her stress levels were through the roof. She seemed to be holding something in. Something she could barely allow to come from her lips. Finally in a summersault from her lungs, a burst of air came with the message… she wanted to leave James.
That was in no way, no shape, no form, no galaxy among the stars going to go over well with him.
I felt empathy for her in my heart. I know what it's like to feel trapped by an abusive and dangerous situation. That was nothing new to me. However, if she decided to tell James that she wanted to leave him and take his baby back home while this whole fiasco was going on with Chris and the FBI and the club opening up all at the same time... I thought I was afraid before but I hadn't seen anything yet.
Uh-oh right? Always with the drama...
Here's what happened next:
As soon as she let those words tumble from her mouth, she immediately shrunk back into her shell, took a gigantic swig from the bottle, shook her head and told me to forget about it.
I couldn’t 'just forget about it' though... I desperately felt like I needed to help her map her way out of this island prison she was currently trapped on. My mind was racing, struggling for a string that by chance I hadn't pulled yet.
WAIT A MINUTE!
I was struck with a thought that summoned me back to the ever present moldy stench of the room. What time was it?
LATE! Damn it. Not good.
"WE GOTTA GO AND I MEAN NOW EM!"
I was already halfway into my flip flop and out the door before Em put the bottle down. We were very late which meant we were going to be met with another date with the devils and we needed to figure out an excuse pronto!
We were scrambling out the door frame, pulling the two-sizes-too-small shirts over our heads while simultaneously trying to juggle lip-gloss, rum and bobby pins but we managed to get it together and flung ourselves to the bottom of the stairs as fast as our legs would take us.
Another piercing thought stabbed my consciousness... where is the baby? I had enough on my own hands, I'm sure Em had taken care of her child after all... I hoped.
Shake it out of your mind and run!
We started bolting down the beach, screaming promotional mumbo-jumbo at all the young kids who were wandering around the sand aimlessly, obviously drunk off their faces, rolling around in the dark, trying to figure out what to do with themselves- out in the wild, away from home for the first time.
I looked down and where all the kids coincidentally weren't looking were large florescent bags of drugs on the sand beneath their bare feet.
"Guys, it's cool, we're not cops!"
I guess Em saw the bags too. They were obviously dropped when the kids saw us coming.
If anyone wanted to avoid the cops, it was us.
The group shifted in the sand and seemed to settle in, realizing we were not trying to arrest them. After a couple of seconds of fierce stare-down, one of the girls reached down and started collecting all of the goodies into her purse.
“Come on! Come party with us!” Em yelled at them, grabbing their arms and tugging them towards the foam party.
By the time we got to the flashing lights in the sky that lulled all the dazed and confused into the bar we were trying to reach, we had a huge congo-line of spring-breakers with us, hanging on our every word, hyped up to come to the new bar this weekend.
This merry band of drunken students saved us from a lecture from boss-man because when he saw our tag along party, he smiled wildly and began handing them fliers acting like our best friend!
“OK chicas, we’re going to get this party started, a’ight?” Gansta Kyle. Big baggy shirt, non-fitting jeans and huge sneakers. Arms over our shoulders, leading us to the stage.
(Resemblance = uncanny)
As we were navigating through the crowds of sweat and excitement we got blasted by the foam machines and the whole club started swarming into this soapy mess of hot, foul, living odor. It had a life of its own and it was trying to take mine. In that hazy mess, I was painstakingly revolted what I saw. I am going to do my best at describing it so you get the idea without causing me to be flagged for crazy inappropriate content.
These kids (young kids!) were literally getting it on, right there, half naked on the dance floor, girls with their shirts off jamming their chests into the excited faces of school boys… all of the nakedness and complete disregard for being in public was overwhelming. Peeing on the dance floor. Yep. Right there. A huge mess of naked kids on the floor in some sort of would-be-pyramid? Anyways… you get the picture. I'm sure.
MORE DRINKS FOR ME PLEASE! (Yes, that was my answer.)
Back then I did this thing where if I was uncomfortable (every day of my life in the DR) I decided to repress it with another drink. Always a perfect band-aid at the time, always a disaster later on.
I pushed my way through the huffing and puffing of the crowd, inching myself up close and personal with too many faces, bodies and intimate connections?? until I could finally see the bar.
Just when I thought hope had been found, my earbuds striped me to shreds with the sounds coming into them. It was Adam... on the mic... shouting at me from the stage.
“Look who it is! My beautiful accomplice (crazy word choice my friend!) Baby girl, come on over here and say hi to the crowd!”
F. I was just trying to drown myself in rum to get through this, Adam.
I turned my head towards the ground and pretended I didn’t hear him but never one to be turned down, he started getting aggressive... quickly. I didn't want to give him a chance to continue his little act as he was clearly buzzed to another world, and hell-bent on me joining him up there.
I wished in my head to be anywhere else but when that didn't work, I finally looked up to his voice where his arm was outstretched, pointing at me.
Before I knew it was being pushed onto the crowd and the hands of too many people to count were whisking me onto the elevated platform Adam was DJ’ing on.
The hands…Well, that’s just… my… OK. Well, feel what you want then, you little perverts.
When I finally got let off at the stage by the wandering hands of a hundred mystery people, I was quite clearly distressed, disoriented and in way over my head (again!)
Good thing there was a bottle that was now all of a sudden in my mouth and flowing down the back of my throat. Just. Breathe.
“HOLY *%$# WHAT WAS THAT?”
I want to give you more but I know attention spans these days so you'll have to just come on back to see what happens next! I'll break this down into 10 minutes or less each chapter so you can keep up ;) If you're looking for more, I'll post what happens next STAY TUNED!
Ya... all that's coming soon! Stick around!
If you've yet to read the series, here is the introduction, Welcome to DR, Part 1
My Confusion and Panic in Part 3
My favourite, The Reveal (of the Terrifying Secret) Part 4.
An Intro to Kat Part 4.5
The More You Know Part 5
Kat Gone Wild Part 6
Kyle's Prisoner, Part 7
Adam's Drunken Incrimination Party, Part 8
Jailbreak, Part 9
Em's Perspective Part 10
They Found Us Part 11
Then That Happened Part 12
Flashback Pt 12.1
Snitches Get Stitches Part 13
Why More Drinking?Part 14
Back from Hiatus Part 15
If you're hanging by a thread and want to know the moment the next part is published, let me know in the comments and I will keep you updated!
From January 2014 I have been what you would call a vagabond, a nomad, even a gypsy by definition of the words. I had what they all have in common: no fixed home...and no fixed income but the wildest stories.
Until next time,
XO,
😘
