Out of Control

I was 15. My parents had gone to a conference for four days and left me on my own. My brother and sister had been shipped off to Grandpa’s, so it was the first time I’d been left responsible for the house. They said, explicitly, before they left: “Absolutely no parties! ” Little did they know I’d been planning the guest list for weeks and everybody at school knew. The problems began when four of my girls came round straight after school and we started drinking.By the time people started arriving, about 9pm, we’d been drinking for a good four hours and I was in no condition to control the party in any way. People turned up with plastic bag after plastic bag full of drink.

I hadn’t invited more than 40 people but I hadn’t said to anyone that they couldn’t bring their friends. The only think I cared about at that moment was the boy I liked in my Biology class. Josh: let’s promise that we would never leave each other. I replied: I will stay with you till the end and will always love you.

We both didn’t know what we were saying.But as my friends told me, I was making out with him about a good half hour. I started throwing up in the toilet at about 10. 30pm and then later I think I threw up in my mother’s underwear drawer and passed out in my parents’ room. About an hour later I was woken by people getting in bed with each other on top of me. It was only when I walked downstairs that I realised the party was out of control.

One girl, ‘Stacey’ was lying in my brother’s bed throwing up, but it was the top bunk and the ladder was broken so we couldn’t get her down.The worst thing was when I bumped into this guy coming out of the bathroom and asked him if he was all right. He replied, “No, not really,” and then threw up into his hands so it sprayed everywhere, including over three girls sitting below him. It smelled of sick every where. I needed to stop the party some how, there was already enough damage.

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About time, the police knocked on the door at about two o’clock and told everyone to go home and cleared everyone out. The next day, waking up in a broken down hose, I had to try to deal with all the chaos.My mum had trained us well in how to do chores so I knew how to clean up, but I didn’t know how to paint over the writing on the walls or how to fix the stairs.

That’s when I called my friend’s mum, Tracey, who came over with her boyfriend straight away and helped me clean up or should I say fixing the house. I remember feeling so much better once they arrived because it was out of my hands. It took the best part of two days to clean up – washing, scrubbing, vacuuming and fixing. The next day, as soon as I heard the car outside my house, “I knew I was in trouble! “