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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1488508-Second-Coming-Prologue
Rated: 13+ · Novel · Biographical · #1488508
This is the novel based on the last three years of my life.
By ten minutes to midnight the party is in full swing. The atmosphere is buzzing with a sense of unification; the energy in the club is raised to whole new levels, as we all sing, and we all dance.

You can find me on the dance floor; my usual placement of choice at any form of celebration such as this. Surrounded by familiar faces and fuelled by the alcohol that I'd downed within minutes of entering the scene, I am in my prime. I am dressed in a refined, elegant emerald sari - a nod to my Indian heritage - and my hair is styled to perfection. I am not the prettiest girl in the world, but tonight I know that I look the part; I take pleasure in being comfortable enough with my appearance to not feel the need to plaster my face in makeup everyday, or spend hours getting ready just to go to the corner shop on a day-to-day basis. The novelty of me making such an effort is what makes me stand out tonight.

As yet another hard-hitting and blood-pumping song fades and some of my accomplices return to their tables for more drink, it suddenly occurs to me that these are the best moments of my life.

The decked out floor seems to expand up the walls and across the ceiling. Spotlights hang down and highlight the people below in flourescent colours - as I turn around I'm suddenly saturated in brilliant blue. Someone - an aqquaintance - brandishes a camera. I pause to pose, and then carry on. Not dancing would be out of the question - in fact tonight's mission is to stop only for more drinking (as if I need it, I'm quite merry as it is).

I know everyone in here, because, this is my party. Mum rented out the club just for me. The occasion? These are the last minutes of the 30th December 2008, and in a very short time, it will be my 18th Birthday. Everywhere I look I see faces that are smiling, and I think I've reached Nirvana. This night is mine.

I feel humbled by my company. Every important person is with me in this place where we've all come together. I've tried many times over the last few days to talk to them each individually, and really express how much they all mean to me, but I can never quite find the words. And yet, as I look upon them all now, I know that they understand. They know what this night is, and what it represents.

I guide my drunken - but thoughtful - gaze up onto the stage, where the turntables are. Behind them, stands the prestigious DJ that we appointed to provide music for the night, and who took the job for free - my six-years-senior brother, Sunny. Head down and headphones on, he's in the zone. I feel a great sense of love for him. He's been there since the beginning, and we have been through Hell and high tide. He's the only person in the whole wide world who I unconditionally trust, the only one I can rely on, and the only family member I look up to. Frankly, he's the best Brother in the world and if anything ever happens to him, you might as well write me off, too.

Sunny barely ever looks up from his decks. When it comes to music, he gets incredibly absorbed - like how I get, when I'm writing. I love writing. In fact I've recently been trying to think of something in particular to write, something specific. No matter how much I write (and I do it everyday), I still feel like I haven't quite written whatever it is that I'm meant to. It's frustrating.

There's only time for one song before I am officially an adult. I return to my table, and as the song starts, I migrate to the dance floor in a horde with all my friends, led hand in hand by my boyfriend James.

I know the song. It's 'Love Foolosophy' by Jamiroquai, my favourite band. This raises my euphoria to new heights, yet I can't help but feel immensely emotional at the same time. I survey the people around me in more detail.

Firstly, there's James. I met him at college about four months back - so we haven't been together a massive amount of time. But I feel very strongly for him. In a sense, he's everything I'm not - optimistic, energetic and naive. To me, it's a dog-eat-dog world and everything presents a challenge, every obstacle that life throws at me is a test of my resilience and mental vigour. As such, I find it difficult to relax and prefer to constantly be on the move, always trying to pre-empt the next big issue that's going to rear it's ugly head. James's attitude is so delightfully different and it's that (along with his good looks) which attracted me to him. He's made me love my life more than I thought I would at any point.

To the left of him, dancing like a bit of a tit, is Martin, a good friend from college. He's been on his own personal journey I reckon - I'm sure that, six months ago, he wouldn't have been caught dead (let alone drunk) at a shindig such as this, he'd be sat at home on the internet. He's come a long way socially I reckon, during the few months that I've known him. Until the Fresher's Party a couple of months back, it would have never occurred to him that if he went, he might actually have some fun. I was the one who suggested this radical concept of actually going to parties. As I watch him now, he's flailing his limbs all over the show, really breaking it down... Any dancing is better than no dancing, and I don't think he cares about anything else right now..!

Across from me is Cassie. She and I go back a bit longer. I've known her since I first arrived in Southampton, at the beginning of year 11, when I was 15. She, along with a few others who I've now drifted away from or fallen out with, formed part of a really decent friend group that I was glad to be a part of for as long as I was. Back in the old days, we spent many weekends together, round each other's houses playing computer games, having sleepovers, picnics, parties. On some nights I'd get locked in memory and struck by despair, and she was always on the end of a phone for me, as I was for her (and still am, should the situation call for it). But now we go to different colleges and don't see as much of eachother anymore. Such is life.

Alistair completes the square. He and Martin got along like a house on fire as soon as I introduced them tonight. I know Ali from when we became friends in year 8, back at my old secondary school up in Winchester, about eight miles away from here. He says that I'm the Sister he never had, and he has a habit of threatening anyone who wants to go out with me. All in the name of good nature, of course. He's looking particularly joyous tonight, but this can't be put down to alcohol because he doesn't drink... He doesn't need to! Ali is a person who's aura radiates kindness.

Then there's everyone else... My entire college class, friends from my old school, friends of my brother, friends of friends, and other people who fall into none of these categories who I seem to have just picked up along the way.

The song fades. The moment arrives. Sunny positions himself behind a microphone on a stand, and all faces turn to him. I am surrounded by my entourage of close friends. I can feel their body heat around me, making me feel safe and comfortable in my skin as my brother begins to speak: "it is now officially New Year's Eve by my watch, so I'd like to be the first to say... Happy Birthday Siobhan! Eighteen at last, eh?" He pauses and stares at me intently for a moment, and I know what he's thinking, and he knows what I'm thinking. His tone of voice changes slightly as he continues. It becomes softer, calmer and quietly resolved. "For those of you who don't know, my Sister is the bravest person I've ever met." To exemplify this, I suddenly feel the need to vanish on the spot. "She's also the kindest, and has grown to be someone I'm proud to be related to..!" Some people clap. I can't stop grinning. "Siobhan, the world's your oyster now. You don't need to ever doubt yourself. You are amazing, and me and Mum are both very proud of you. Happy Birthday."

Everyone claps. Everyone around me is exclaiming. I'm lost to the crowd of well-wishers. When I free myself of them, James embraces me and tells me that he loves me. As I look back through his brilliant blue eyes, I think to myself 'remember this moment Siobhan. For at this time on this night in your life ... You've got everything you could want, and everything is perfect.'

The night goes on, the people keep celebrating and the wheel keeps turning. I hope that the morning will never arrive.

Underneath the dancing and the drinking, the real source of my happiness is a solid sense of self-worth. I feel like my turning eighteen really symbolises an immense personal achievement ... And so it does. They say you can't know where you're going unless you know where you've been. Well I definitely know where I've been, and I've made every effort to ensure that it doesn't dictate where I'm going. I could never forgive myself for letting my life be compromised or, even worse, becoming a tragic statistic.

Most of the people in here remain oblivious to my sudden thoughts of introspection. To them, I'm very much an upbeat and forward-moving individual - the kind of person who's biggest dilemma in life has probably never surpassed that of wondering what outfit to wear of a night out, or why a boyfriend never called back. But truth be told, I prefer it that way. I've conducted my life in such a way so as to convey nothing of my past; they will find no gaps in my character, I won't allow it. And that attitude has propelled me to a level of wellbeing that I once feared I would never experience.

Bringing my thoughts back up to the present, inspiration hits me - I realise what it is that I need to write in order to finally quench my thirst for pen and paper. It can only be the thoughts that I'm thinking right now, as I revel in my Heaven here, at the end of the line (but the beginning of another). I know that I will be in no fit state to write anything for atleast another 24 hours, but after that, I will reach articulation once again.

I think it's about time for me to do what I've been threatening to do for months now, but never really got around to it. People who know me well have often told me to use my talent in written word. I've also been told that one day I will produce something - a result of creative input - that will have a positive impact on the world. Before losing myself to full-on party madness, I make a memo to myself, a firm new year's resolution;

It's time that the tale were told.


...

Word count: 1947 - is this enough for a prologue, d'you reckon? Also, please note that the entry title (Second Coming) is something I thought of on the fly in my rush to start writing - it's not going to be my final title. I don't know what is, yet.

© Copyright 2008 Saraswati (lady_saraswati at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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