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Back to Subjects - Medicine

The Category Five Party

The Category Five Party As the last person yelled goodbye to me from the front of the house I could hear the door close with a slam, and the blue and black stained glass shake from the thrust of the door. Walking out of the kitchen with my boyfriend, who was holding my hand with a firm grip, we surveyed the massive amounts of beer cans, food and sticky used glasses half filled with unknown substances. The entire house was hot and humid, almost as if we were out side in the dead of Florida’s summer. As I broke out into a cold dripping sweat, chills ran through my body thinking of how my parents could walk in the door at any moment. The lingering relaxation from there tropical vacation in Hawaii, would soon vanish when they find that their trust worthy daughter had thrown party despite their strict warning not to. I had never seen my house such a mess before, between the living room, kitchen and bathroom, it looked as if a category five hurricane swept threw these three rooms destroying every thing in its way. With the first step we took out of the beige tiled kitchen into the pale yellow plush carpeted living room, something stuck to the bottom of my foot. Hesitant to move, I slowly hopped on one foot over to the smoke absorbed sofa, only to find a wad of light pink mushy gum stuck to the bottom of my course foot. With a swift flick of my head, I glanced over at the area I had stepped on and saw the light pink gum smashed into the carpet with a tint of black from the mud that was tracked into the house by the ridged indentions of soles from peoples shoes. Now with that incident out of the way I could only begin to imagine what else I was going to find. As I rose from the sofa, I could smell the stench of the cigarette smoke that had settled into the butter soft leather sofa. Filled with fear on how I was going to get the smell out, my boyfriend handed me a bonus size air freshener. After I sprayed it all over the sofa, the house quickly smelled of a fresh forest pine scent. That scent didn’t last very long though. Faster then the air freshener deodorized the house, a dirty smell quickly swept through the house like a strong gust of wind. In a brief panic my boyfriend grabbed a wad of garbage bags and began to help me clean up. Overwhelmed by the mess, I began picking up all the garbage off the floor. As my boyfriend walked through the room doing the same, I could hear the sound of already broken glass crunching into millions of more pieces under his shoe. With almost all the garbage off the floor, it was easier to actually see the carpet. The mess that was grounded into the carpet was even more of a nightmare then what was covering it. The entire top of every marbleized counter in the house was covered with mugs half full of beer, glasses with cigarette butts submerged in what looked like dirty river water and bowls of half ate potato chips that were soggy and surrounded by little flies that feasted on the leftover crumbs. Now that all the dirty, grungy glasses and bowls were collected, I began to wash them. After washing what seemed like an entire army’s dishes, I ran the dishwasher disposal. As I reached over to flick the switch along the neighboring wall, a harsh clanging noise came from the disposal, piercing my throbbing eardrums. My boyfriend came running, as if he were in the hundred meters Olympic track race to make sure everything was ok. He reached his hand in the disposal that looked like the black hole only to find what were chunks of glass thrown into it by some sloppy drunk who was probably stumbling around like a clown in the circus. I couldn’t believe what careless idiots had should up at my house. Finally done cleaning what was possible in the kitchen, I moved onto the bathroom, which connects, to the rough ripple designed deck of the pool. In the shower was the bone-dry keg. Hundreds of red plastic Dixie cups surrounded the huge metal keg. On the Mexican style tile that is laid in the bathroom, dozens of undefined lines from the soles of shoes marked up the floor. On the mirror was dripping soap resembling raindrops that had fallen out of no where. The once, clean floor mat was now stained brown from the mud. Once the tile had been mopped, a huge dark scuffmark was ever so apparent on the floor. The beige hand towels were thrown in the toilet covering someone's evidence of low tolerance for alcohol. The smell was even more putrid in the bathroom then the living room. The shower door, which was knocked off the hinges, had a footprint with a Nike check imprinted on it. It was obvious that someone lost his or her balance while trying to do a keg stand while already heavily intoxicated. As I walked out to the pool deck, I could see that it was covered with more red cups, spilled beer that had stained the white rippled concrete to a yellowish color and someone's wet maroon colored shirt bleeding into the white deck. In the pool, that is in the middle of the deck, was almost a dozen beer bottle caps floating along the surface making a reflection from the brightly-lit moon, of a dreamy, mystical design every time they hit the wall. Plants that once lined the wall blocking out the street, were uprooted and had a pungent smell of more untimely accidents. The humid air outside trapped the noxious smells within the walls. I could still hear the cracking of class under my feet that only made me swear to myself never to have another party again. Although completely done cleaning up the mess that resembled a corrupted barn, I was not satisfied with the job that was done. I knew that there was no way of hiding the permanent evidence of the wild party here tonight. I could hear it now, my father’s stern, deep, monotone voice repeatedly insisting on the massive amounts of damage to the house. There has never been a worse thought in my head of disappointment by my parents. The thought of them scolding me endlessly made my stomach uneasy. I began to feel knots forming in my stomach like someone were knotting my insides together. It was not a good feeling. Once again a cold dripping sweat ran off my face and chills ran through my body knowing that my parents could walk in at any moment. The three rooms that need to be cleaned were in fact still a disaster, resembling the aftermath of “ The Category Five-Hurricane Party.” Bibliography:

Word Count: 1161