What Burning Feels Like by Yohanna Ostrowski (pg

What Burning Feels Like

By Yohanna Ostrowski

I raised my face to admire the few, dim stars that were scattered across the black sea of space. The white glow of the August harvest moon floated in the center of my vision, outshining all the other celestial objects around it. I breathed in the darkness surrounding me and, for no reason in particular, smiled to myself. I always got the giggles when I was under the influence.

“Luna!” I called out.

I received no answer.

Of course I didn’t. What did I expect? I wasn’t going to find my designated driver by breaking my neck looking up.

I let my eyes travel back down to earth, and was disappointed to find that nothing had changed since I had last looked upon the scene. The great stone wall that encompassed the property still made it very clear that only the chosen elites of society were welcome at a place like this. The tall, twisted iron gates at the front of the estate were still wide open, welcoming all of California’s most affluent teenagers to come enjoy a night of damaging their parents' bank account balances. The circular, cement driveway at the entrance was still littered with sports cars of every make and model, awaiting the return of the intoxicated drivers and the plus ones they had picked up for the night. The fountain that sat in the center of the padlock still gurgled peacefully, lulling the guard dogs to sleep inside their shelter. The gravel path leading from the driveway through rows of well trimmed shrubs up to the porch still seemed just as long as when I had walked up it the first time hours earlier.

The mansion hosting the end of summer celebration was still unnecessarily exuberant and practically screamed the words “disposable income” . The guests were still either skinny dipping in the pool, taking shots, throwing up in the bathrooms, smoking weed on the balcony or having sex in one of the bedrooms. The porch I stood on was thankfully still the quietest place in the whole house. Even I was the same as I had been a couple minutes ago. While I couldn’t see my own reflection, - 27 -

I knew my deeply tan skin, golden eyes and curly sun-bleached hair hadn’t changed since I had last seen myself in one of the bathroom mirrors after throwing up.

It was an incredibly disappointing experience, but people said the world was full of disappointments. I couldn’t help but agree. This party had left me feeling worse instead of better, which was not the reason I had come in the first place. I’d been having a weird experience; it had felt like every second passing was as long as a year, like my thoughts were moving at a speed my body couldn’t keep up with. It was very aggravating. I was starting to believe that sobriety really was the way to go.

I looked down at my hands, and noticed that they were shaking as they gripped the banister. Actually, it seemed like the whole world was shaking. I was far too intoxicated to be here without embarrassing myself horribly. Just another reason why I had to go home. And another reason why I had to find my designated driver.

I focused back on the task at hand and turned to face the open doorway that I had just stumbled out of. Even from the front porch, I could feel the bass from the speakers, playing a song I didn’t know, shaking the foundations of the mansion and rattling my rib cage around. The blue and purple strobing lights that illuminated the room I was staring into were giving me a headache, and I remembered why I had stepped outside in the first place; I was feeling a tad bit nauseous from all the different substances that had entered my body so far tonight.

I forced myself to stare into the room and searched through the mess of bodies and faces to find the girl I was looking for. The colourful strobing beams were the only source of light illuminating the environment, and I watched them flashover the new carpet made up entirely of red solo cups and crushed beer cans. I followed the purple glow as it crawled across the room, passing over a group of guys snorting cocaine in the corner, then two girls starting a fight by the liquor table, and finally, a mass of couples dancing in ways they shouldn’t, until my eyes found her.

“Luna!” I repeated, this time a little louder. Was I louder? I couldn’t tell. I had an awful tendency to lose my volume control whenever I felt a little under the influence of anything and everything. Regardless, it seems my tone was just right since a second or two later, out of the haze of smoke and changing colours, emerged my designated driver.

She was far too pale for someone living on the West Coast. Seriously, this girl was ghostly white, and the black leather mini skirt and tube top she was wearing only brought more attention to her colouring. At least she was coordinated about it, as her outfit matched the colour of her short, straight bob cut and large eyes. Her black heels crunched the debris on the floor as she stepped out of the heat and noise of the house into the solitude and peace of the porch, shutting the door that I had previously left open behind her.

“You called for me, Helios?” She stared at me with her empty, apathetic eyes, quietly observing what state I was in. Her voice had that controlled and constrained tone that she always maintained when she spoke, which was calming in a situation like this, but had never failed to unnerve me.

“Luna!” I cried. It seems I was happier than usual to see her, but I’m not sure why, considering she was the one who was going to be dragging my drunk ass home. “It’s home time,” I told her, showing the time on my phone; 4:17 AM.

“Indeed it is,” she replied. If it wasn’t obvious by now, Luna was the best designated driver you could ask for. She was still dressed up and having fun at the party, but acted sober enough that no cop would even think of pulling her over.

“C’mon,” she said gently, touching my arm to guide me in the right direction as she walked past me down the porch steps. “The cars this way.”

“Luna!” I shrieked again. Thank God she was with me, I don’t know how I would’ve acted if I didn’t have my mature little chaperone by my side. “I’m not that drunk,” I said with a little giggle.

“Of course not,” she replied patiently, while still leading me down the long gravel stretch to the driveway where my car was parked.

“Wait a minute.” I shrugged off her arm and very eloquently was sick in the manicured hedges I had been admiring earlier in the night. "Oops,” I said, wiping my mouth once I had finished.

“So tastefully said,” she replied, while searching around in the little black clutch that she had somehow managed to keep safe the whole night.

“What are you looking for?”

“This.” She revealed a small silver flask from the depths of her purse and handed it to me.

"Please, Luna,” I said, giggling. “I think we both know that the last thing I need right now is more alcohol. Besides, I thought you hated all and any substances, but as it turns out you’re secretly a heavy drinker?!” I finished, giggling some more.

“I’m not,” she spun the cap quickly and forcefully with those long black nails of hers and took a swig that would not have been so easy to take if hard liquor really did exist in that flask. “It’s water,” she informed me, handing the silver container back to me.

“Delicious.” I gurgled and spat, then drained the small canteen to help get my blood alcohol levels lower in case we were pulled over, since I was almost certain I was over any legal limit in every state. "Truly delicious,” I repeated once more, returning the now empty silver container to its rightful owner. “But why the disguise?” I asked, hiccuping on the last word; I guess I had drank too quickly for my own good.

“Because,” she started as she hunted in her purse for the place to return the flask, “if I want to be a designated driver and still have fun, I have to at least act tipsy.” She succeeded in her quest and looked up at me again. “If I convince everyone else around me that I’m absolutely plastered, like yourself,” she continued, giving a sweet smile to make it clear she was joking, “then I’ll convince myself I’m plastered too. I’m a strong believer in the saying ‘if you tell a lie often enough, it becomes true’.”

“What?” I giggled.

“Nothing.” she replied, putting away her smile as quickly as she had put away her flask.

“Now c'mon,” she encouraged, as she spun on her heel to face our destination. “Make sure you’re sick before we get into the car.”

“Aye aye captain!” I answered, giving a little salute and hiccuping again. She didn’t bother looking back. I followed her like a dog on a leash.

I managed not to throw up again as I stumbled down the gravel driveway to where we were parked, following the back of Luna’s head the whole way.

I slumped into the shotgun seat of my white Lamborghini as Luna revved the car so we could get going. I heard the wail of fast approaching sirens in the distance. - 30 -

We pulled out of the parking lot and made it out of the estate before the police cars made it in.

We drove in silence. I was too out of it to say anything, and Luna wasn’t much of a talker. She never had been. I was starting to doze out of consciousness as I stared into the dark, winding road ahead leading away from the mansion.

I closed my eyes for a moment and when I opened them again we were on a highway. The sky had gotten brighter. We were the only cars on the road. I looked over to my left and was surprised to find Luna smoking a cigarette.

“Luna!” I cried “I didn’t know you smoked.”

“You must’ve been out for a while.” Her eyes never left the empty stretch of road in front of her, as her left hand gripped the steering wheel and her right gripped her cigarette. “I went through your whole pack” she said, lifting the empty McDonald’s package from the dashboard. “Sorry about that.”

“But I thought you hated all the substances?”

She smiled and tore her eyes away from the road to stare at the cigarette she was holding in her right hand.

“It’s just because this cigarette is the same as me.” She focused back on the road but kept smiling to herself. “We’re both on fire.”

I didn’t understand what she was saying, and I didn’t have time to ask before I fell asleep again with my head pressed against the window, the smell of nicotine filling the air.

When I was conscious the third time I had sobered up enough to realize that something was terribly wrong. "Luna.” I started. My forehead was pressed against the cold, tinted glass of the window, as I stared out onto the large stretch of beach in front of us. The sun was starting to rise, and I knew we were not where we were supposed to be. This was not my neighborhood. “Luna, where are we?”

“I think we’re both on fire, Helios.”

“What?”

The sound of sand tapping against the windshield was all I could hear, as we lurched forward through the dunes.

“Luna?”

“I’m doing this for both of us, Helios.”

She slammed on the gas. The ocean was so close

“Luna!” I tried to grab the steering wheel out of her hands. She pushed me off.

Water splashed up on the windshield as we made an impact with the waves. Liquid was sloshing up around us. Someone was yelling. I think that was me. Someone was laughing. I think that was Luna.

I closed my eyes and when I opened them again, the sun's rays were shining over the horizon, painting the sky beautiful shades of purple and pink as the black ocean started rising around us.

“Luna!” I frantically tried to open the door but it wouldn’t budge. They were locked. We were trapped from the inside.

“Luna, open the door!” I was frantically shaking the handle now. We were fully submerged.

“We’re both on fire, Helios. Just like a cigarette.”

The bottom of the car began to fill with water. I was pounding on the windows.

“Luna, open the doors!”

“I guess this is the only way for us to cool down.”

The water had risen quickly. It was scary, but I think I understood what she meant. So when the water went over my head, I didn’t panic. I instead enjoyed the feeling as we sank. Is this what it felt like to be in space? No. This is what it felt like to be on fire.