четверг, 10 мая 2012 г.

Drinking from the Solo Cup of Regret

By Sam Campagna
We must all suffer from one of two pains: the pain of discipline or the pain of regret. The difference is discipline weighs ounces while regret weighs tons. ~Jim Rohn

"This must be it," Josh said. We were standing in front of a dimly lit stoop. Cigarette butts littered the steps and the air was dense with illegality. This stoop marked the entrance to my first college party. I was a brand new freshman enjoying my freedom.
Josh knocked on the door hesitantly. A minute passed until a boy answered the door holding one of those infamous red Solo cups. "Welcome to the party, guys!" He drunkenly laughed.

Our first college party was in a claustrophobic apartment crowded with drunken people, loud with music and laughter.

The boy tossed us each our own red cup. "Here is the keg if you want beer, and over there is the jungle juice."

I watched as Josh filled his cup with beer, tipping it to the side to reduce the amount of foam, something I would've never known to do. My new friend Mackenzie said something to me but I couldn't hear her over the commotion of the party. She grabbed my wrist and dragged me through the crowd towards the kitchen where there was a huge plastic tub filled with red liquid.

Kenzie handed me a cup and I smelled the concoction, which reeked of fruit punch and alcohol. I took a small sip. It was disgusting.

"Don't worry, Samantha," Kenzie advised me. "The more you drink the less you taste it."

Josh waved us over and introduced us to some people. Meeting new people was always awkward for me but I tried my best to keep my cool. Distracted by the party, I didn't notice that my cup kept getting refilled.

Soon I found myself laughing and yelling with the rest of the crowd. Meeting new people didn't seem so awkward anymore. Josh threw his arm around me and poured some of his drink into my cup.

"Hey Josh, Samantha!" a voice yelled behind us. It was a boy we had just met. "The party is getting so crowded. Do you want to head back to campus and drink in my room?"

"Yeah, sounds good to me," Josh said, as he grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd to the door.

We stepped outside to the wet sidewalk. It must have rained while we were inside. I took a step off the stoop and stumbled a bit.

"You okay?" Josh asked as I tried to straighten myself up.

I looked up at him to tell him I was fine when my vision went slightly out of focus. I held my head for a second and sat down on the curb, fending off nausea.

"She doesn't look so great," a voice said to my left. "How much did you drink, Samantha?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," I said, more trying to convince myself than the strangers around me.

"Let's get her home," another voice said. I think it was Josh.

"Who is this mess? Must be a freshman." An unrecognizable voice laughed.

I stood up to start walking and stumbled. My head pounded. I was confused. I felt so helpless.

"She isn't going to make it home. Someone get a cab. I have..."

I blacked out.

Sometime later, I looked up to see the lights of my dorm shining just around the corner. I had no recollection of how we had gotten there.

"Almost home, Samantha."

Suddenly, a flash of red filled the dark street behind us.

"Stop where you are and step away from the girl," a deep voice barked behind us.

I felt the arms supporting me swiftly release and I found myself standing on the sidewalk alone, swaying slightly. I raised my eyes to find myself face to face with the campus police.

"How much did you have to drink tonight?"

"I'm not sure," I whimpered.

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen," I said. "Please sir, I'm all right. I live right around the corner," I begged, pointing to my building.

The officer just shook his head as he picked up his radio: "Can I have an ambulance outside of Shaw Quad?"

I felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach. I bent over and vomited in front of my new friends and the police officer.

Than I blacked out again.

I woke up sometime later, looking up a tile ceiling.

"Finally awake?" a woman asked. I started to sit up, but my head felt as if someone had taken a hammer to it.

"How's the hangover?" The woman ruthlessly laughed, obviously seeing I was in pain. "Here, drink some juice." I greedily chugged the drink. Never had apple juice tasted so great. Taking it more slowly this time, I pulled myself up and took a look at my surroundings. Men and women in scrubs, stethoscopes, IV bags. I was in the hospital. The pounding inside my head felt stronger as I realized what had happened.

"Don't worry; we didn't have to pump your stomach. All you needed was a little rest." A feeling of relief filled my body. "Still extremely dangerous, my dear. Do you realize what could have happened to you? You are lucky," the nurse scolded. "And we found your college ID card in your pocket so we looked you up and have your parents on the phone."

The feeling of relief instantly drained from my body and my stomach twisted into a knot. "What?"

"We called your parents to let them know you are here and that you are okay." The nurse held out a phone. "Your parents are waiting to talk to you." She shook the phone in front of my face as if I didn't see it the first time.

Slowly, I took the phone with my trembling hand. "Mom?" I croaked.

The silence that followed, although only a few seconds, seemed to last a lifetime.

Finally, I heard my mother's quiet voice.

"Samantha."

More silence. I waited for my mother to ream me out. But that was it. My name.

"Mom?" I pleaded through the phone. My mind begged her to yell, scream, lecture me until my ears bled. But nothing.

"Mom I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I messed up, I... I..." I babbled, trying to fill the excruciating silence.

This silence, this empty phone call, was worse than anything my mother could have said. Never had I done something that had left my parents speechless.

"Samantha, why?" My mother's voice was filled with sorrow. More silence. "We'll talk later."

Dial tone.

I dropped the phone into my lap and stared blankly ahead of me.

"Samantha?" A voice snapped me back to reality. It was the nurse. "Samantha, you have been discharged from the hospital. A van is waiting outside to return you to campus."

I blinked a few times, trying to focus my mind on the present. Thanking the nurse, I numbly got up. Mustering all my strength to keep my trembling legs from buckling, I gathered my few belongings and headed towards the exit like a zombie.

"And Samantha," a voice spoke to my back, "I better never see you here again."

I stopped, and turned to face the nurse. Focusing my eyes on her, I replied firmly, "You won't."

The next day my parents and I had a long discussion on the phone, and I was eventually punished for my actions. But the worst part wasn't the fact that my parents grounded me, revoked my car, and almost withdrew me from college. It wasn't the $200 fine I had to pay my school, or the 1,000-word essay, or the alcohol classes I was required to attend, or even being on probation for my entire first semester. The memory of that night still haunts me. I made a terrible first impression on my new friends, that image of me stumbling and vomiting on the street. I learned the hard way that you can't undo your past.

But without a doubt the worst part was the worry and humiliation I caused my parents. I severely damaged the trust they had in me, something that takes years to build up but only one second to tear down. I still have a vivid memory of the silence on the phone that morning. I let them down, and I will never forget it.

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