Admittedly, I’m not super proud of this story. It doesn’t paint me in the best light, however I do think that it is an interesting story. I wrote this piece for the Elle Writing Competition. It didn’t win - clearly, otherwise I wouldn’t be posting it - but I still think it’s worth posting.


via GIPHY

Head pounding, like my brain was repeatedly butting against the front of my skull punishing me for the previous night’s actions. I tried to push myself up, my arms were too weak to push past the weight of my chest, the realisation of what I’d done. That, and the actual arm of the man laid next to me on the tiny single bed. I reached down towards the floor, hoping to find my glasses and maybe what was left of my dignity and common sense.
I found nothing.

Finding my common sense was always going to be a long shot, but I thought my dignity and I were joint at the hip. Clearly not judging by the man laid next to me.
“You looking for your glasses?”
I turned to face him, embarrassment scrawled across my face. Internally praying that he would think it was due to me trying to find my glasses. I gave a simple nod. He smiled reaching up to the windowsill above us, grabbing my mulberry coloured glasses.
As I sit up, putting my glasses on, I spot my dress thrown in haste towards the door. The royal purple number, tossed aside in a moment of absolute drunken madness. The dress I’d left like a million dollars in hours before, the dress I had no recollection taking off. I felt him press his lips against my shoulder, he smirked against the bony flesh.
“You’re not at all like Sam said.” He chuckled, resting his chin again my shoulder.
My heart sank, crashing out through my feet as I stared ahead trying to piece together what had happened last night. Last thing I fully remember was downing a glass of wine.
“I-I need to get ready to leave. I’ve got to be on campus in 30 minutes.”

I still don’t fully remember what happened. The pieces I remember don’t quite fit, they’re like a warped jigsaw. I remembered sitting in the hall, drinking wine at the university ball, ignoring the laughing from the table behind me. He sat behind me, Sam, the guy I was stupidly head over heels with. He’d no longer glance at me twice, now he’d gotten all he wanted from me. I knew he hated one of the guys sat at his table.
I don’t know if it was the wine or if I was feeling overly confident for a change, but something in my brain told me the way to make Sam notice was to make him jealous. I couldn’t have picked a worse person to make an even worse person jealous. Both used me when they needed me, they took my naivety and used it to their advantage by letting me believe it could and would be more than a one night stand. That it was love when all it was only lust at best.
That was the last time I ever drank wine and the last time I wore the dress, the combination of the two seemed destined to get me in trouble.