Narrative 212st
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My birthday fell on the 21st of July, but it was only the 18th. My parents were out of town, so this had to be the weekend I threw a huge birthday bash. I made up flyers, 50 of them, and my neighbors didnt seem to mind too much, so things seemed to be set. I took the 16th and 17th off of work so I could get anything of value safely locked away in secured rooms. I hoped that things would work out well and nothing would go wrong. I made sure that the flyers were only handed out to the people that I actually wanted there, in efforts to keep away the “trouble makers”.
The day of the party was finally here, and I spent it setting up my very expensive stereo system so that no one could break it. Everything seemed to be in place and the people started rolling in. Things were going great. People were dancing and playing pool and just having a good time. There were a few people over by the snack bar eating their hearts out, and that is where the first signs of trouble caught my eye. I noticed a couple of people sneaking drinks. This was exactly what I had tried to prevent. In my past experience, whenever there was alcohol at a party, bad things happened. I didnt want to spoil the fun people were having so I decided as long as it was contained to those few people, nothing would go wrong. As the night continued, things only seemed to get better. My friends were there and we were having a great time. No one had complained about the noise, and the drinking had kept itself to those few people, or so I thought.
A couple of hours after I noticed the alcohol, I spotted a crowd around one of the bathrooms. Apparently there was a girl in there, throwing up. As I began to walk over, she pushed through the crowd, completely out of control. I didnt know how to react; it seemed like anything anyone did just made her more upset. She was screaming that she needed to go outside, so we let her out onto the back porch. I tried to calm her down, along with about five of my other friends, but nothing seemed to work. She began running down the street yelling that we were trying to attack her. I just stood at the bottom of my driveway, as others chased her, imagining what my neighbors were going to do, and then it happened. Porch lights began turning on like during Christmas when everyone has them hooked up to timers. Peoples heads appeared in windows up and down the street. Then, the one face that I dreaded the most, my neighbors across the street, the Colbys. Our eyes met for a brief moment, and then he disappeared. All of the sudden his front door flew open and out stormed Mr. Colby in his bathrobe shouting obscenities.
“What in the @*#* do you kids think youre doing, dont