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Word Count: 830
A Prayer to the Porcelain God The touch of cold linoleum against the bare skin of my chest awoke me from my deep sleep I tried to open my eyes but the shine of bright lights off of the newly polished white porcelain halted my attempts Where was I How did I get here Confused at my situation I tried once more to open my eyes this time succeeding My body ached like I had just ran a two kilometer marathon with thirty pound weights strapped to my shoulders I couldnt move My arms legs fingers and toes were still in the deep sleep I was so rudely awakened from My eyes drifted downward to fall upon what had become my best friend that night The smell of fresh Soft Scrub invaded my nostrils to a point that made it almost comforting The bowl was tainted by the contents of my still queasy stomach although it did not appear like lasagna and smelled like a combination of burning tires old people and some sort of fruit Outside I could hear the sounds of those smart enough to survive the n ight What time was it anyways Was it 2001 yet These questions flashed through my mind with a deep regret as I realized that I was the first one down I could not let the others find me here I could not let them see what kind of man I was one who could not hold down three beers and passes out on toilet seats Revival became my main task at this point I tried to stand up but my body wasnt awake as I was Footsteps outside the door echoed in my mind like the reverb of a bullet They grew closer and closer only to halt a few meters before the door Hey Michelle whats up Someone said Michelle McDougal the girl of my dreams the reason I came here tonight
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