Famous Last Words

“You have to come!” “You never come to anything after school!” “Come on it’ll be fun!” My friends at school insisted that I hangout with them later tonight for Halloween. I replied with a casual shrug of the shoulders and said I would let them know later, knowing very well I had no intention of doing anything of the sort. Typically I would have no problem meeting up with my friends after school, but times like Halloween were a different story. Halloween meant one thing: Alcohol. Alcohol meant that I would be surrounded by a bunch of intoxicated zombies going off the walls and I wanted no part of it. Leaving school that day I had no intention of meeting up with anyone for halloween later on. 

Upon arriving home, my phone would continue to vibrate from the incessant text messages in the groupchat solidifying the “plans” for the night. I quickly turned on Do Not Disturb and decided to take a nap before heading to the gym. While waiting to get next on the basketball court, I told myself that being here a the gym was a much better way to spend my time than with everyone while they were drinking, and this was something that I knew to be true. I was being productive and they were being self-destructive. Nothing good could possibly come from a bunch of kids drinking in a cold park at night, and if people asked what I did yesterday for halloween, saying I worked out would be a sufficient answer. I looked down at my phone to see the dreaded text: “Josh?”, and against my better judgement I figured why not and replied with a yes. I figured I could give them the benefit of the doubt, and besides I hadn’t really hung out with them in a while, and how bad could it possibly get. 

We all agreed to meet up at a Dunkin Donuts and then go from there. Just sitting down with everyone sharing assorted scoops of ice cream was a lot of fun. Good conversations with good people. Sitting there I thought I had made the right choice in coming. Someone quickly stood up and asked if we were ready to head to the park. Taking my ice cream to go, I joined everyone and heading over to the park. At the park we did what we had always done since elementary school and heading right for the swings. Ice cream, swings and good conversations made for a really good time. 

But with the single unzip of a backpack all of the comfort I felt would soon fade away, and as each can was passed around I gripped my ice cream cup even tighter, feeling more and more uneasy as time went by. The cans seemed endless, and my friends downed them as if they were water. Eventually I was no longer in the park with my friends. I was being surrounded by people who lacked any and all self control. They staggered throughout the cold park and uttered unintelligible jargon and started to fill the air with their incessant laughter. The laughter got closer and closer, until suddenly I was surrounded by it. The laughter stumbled into me and my half empty cup of rocky road ice cream spilled all over the pavement, as it now completely filled my ears. I was genuinely terrified. When did something like this become fun? Why would anyone consider this as fun? When did going to park stop being enough for a good time? What happened to the games and conversations that went into night? 

As I was surrounded by the incoherent laughs and screams of my heavily intoxicated friends, I became an outsider. I was the one who preferred a good conversation or playing video games and monopoly until our parents called us home. I remember the long walks with no real destination filled with jokes and laughs. I remember when the park was a place where we’d let our imaginations run free, where the jungle gyms used to be  pirate ships, planes, or whatever we wanted them to be that day, and the handball courts overcrowded with all kids trying to play suicide. The park used to be a place of innocent fun, not whatever this was. 

So, I did what any great person would do in the midst of chaos. I left. I walked away from my friends all collectively stumbling into the words “bye Josh”.  Now I was physically and metaphorically the outsider. I was the one who didn’t find any of this entertaining. However, I was okay with being an outsider. I was okay being the one who wouldn’t wake up with a headache tomorrow. I was okay with being in complete control of my actions. I was okay with walking away, and seeing everyone at school and not replying to the text next time. I was okay.