The lights flashed around her slim body.  Blonde hair swayed back and forth to the song blasting through the speakers.  Her body moved in perfect rhythm with the warm body behind her own.  Ten beers and two shots coursed through her veins brining her blood alcohol content way over the legal limit.  The small white pill that she had let dissolve on her tongue earlier didn’t help her intoxication at all.  It made the colors brighter.  It made the girls look better than they really were.  It heightened the pleasure, and it definitely took the pain away.  This is what she did every Friday and Saturday.

You’d think someone who belonged to that scene would have a bad reputation, but she didn’t.  See, no one she knew came here.  This place was an hour long cab ride from the place she called home.  Secret passwords guarded secret doors.  You had to belong to it to even begin to know where to find it.  How Spencer found it?  She couldn’t really remember.  She remembers the first night she came like it was yesterday.  She remembered the girls that first brought her here, Tori.  She remembered coming every weekend since then.  No, Spencer’s habits were not known to many.  At King High, she was your all American girl.  Blonde, beautiful, smart, cheerleader, and lesbian.  That aspect of Spencer’s life was very well known.  She was also known for turning down a lot of relationships, but that was because of what happened to her two years back.  No one knew about it, but Spencer and her brother Glen.  Spencer was going to keep it that way.  She also was going to keep her secret like just that, a secret.

Bright light lit up her bedroom.  Spencer Carlin woke up in her room with her head spinning lightly.  She looked at the clock beside her bed.  It was 12:45 on Saturday, and Spencer thought it was way too early to be awake.  She knew there was someone beside her, but she was afraid to look.  She had regretted waking up to quite a few people in her life.  Some of them happened to be guys.  Those were the nights when she couldn’t get that faithful night out of her head.  Some of them just happened to be ugly girls.  Those were the nights that she just consumed to much alcohol.  The worse was the ugly guys.  Those were the nights where the events of that one night played over and over in her head to the point where she wanted to take her own life.  She knew she couldn’t.  Drinking until you don’t realize what is going on is never a good thing to do, but it’s a good way to forget your problems.  It’s a good way to lose yourself.