The Party

Word count 996

         The party was getting out of hand. Charlie’s heart sank as he heard yet another crash.

         “Shit, what’s that?” Glancing at his watch he saw it was nearing midnight. “Twelve hours and they’ll be home!”

         He heard a scream, followed by a splash.

          “Christ’s sake.” He glanced out into the darkness, he had no idea how many were out there.

         He heard the sound of glass breaking followed by manic laughter. Feeling helpless under the onslaught he stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up.

          “Mum’ll go ape shit. They’re in her bed.”

         The sound of the phone in the hall was shrill. He knew it would be the neighbours calling again telling them to shut down the music.

         Charlie was out of his depth. This was going to end badly.

         “Can we trust you Charlie? We’ll be home by midday tomorrow. Just make sure everywhere’s locked up before you go to bed, and don’t forget to feed the dog,” his father instructed.

         “You can have Robert Waltz to stay over, if you like.”

         ”Thanks dad. Don’t worry and give my love to Gran.” Charlie waved goodbye.

          Robert was keen to stay over, and perhaps he’d mentioned to a few other friends that Charlie’s parents were going to be away and there was going to be a twentieth birthday party.

          The news got around, and before long it was even plastered over Facebook.

         At eight o’clock, a crowd of youths and girls from college pushed their way in.

          Gypsy the Labrador snapped at their heels, barking, her hair standing on end.

         “Hi guys, look there’s been a mistake, no party tonight, it’s not my birthday till next month,” pleaded Charlie.

         “It’s cool, we’ll just stay for a bit,” the leader of the gatecrashers smirked.

          Within five minutes music blasted out, at an ear splitting level.

         Another knock on the door, this time opened by one of the gatecrashers.

         Six or seven more teenagers arrived, they were carrying cans of beer and casks of wine.

         Giving up, Charlie was helpless to stop the momentum, there were too many interlopers to count.

         It was gone midnight when Mr Snark from next door stuck his head over the fence, his bald head gleamed, face contorted.

          “What the hell’s going on over there?”

         Hearing a siren out on the road, Charlie’s heart sank, realising it was the cops.

          “Shit, can this get any worse?” He went outside to meet them.

         “We’ve had reports of an out of control party, son. Do you live here?”

         “Yes, sir. Sorry. It’s all under control. They just got a bit noisy. We’re just finishing up, no worries, I’ll turn the music down.”

         “Where are your parents, son?”

         At that moment several youths came outside.

          “Clear off, pigs,” a young girl screamed at the cops. Before long, more youths joined in and the police called for back up.

         It was over two hours later that the street was cleared, seven kids taken into custody and Charlie interviewed.

         “You’ll receive a charge of holding an unauthorised and out of control party,” a very red faced, pissed off, policeman snarled.

          Charlie was hoping that he was just trying to frighten him. His parents must never know about tonight.

         The last patrol car left the street, giving a final whoop as it rounded the corner.

         Robert and Charlie stood alone in the darkness. Lights in the neighbourhood gradually turned off.

         Charlie was afraid to go back into the house and face the mess left behind.

         Opening the front door they stepped in.

         “Shit, how are we ever going to clear up this lot?” But Robert was being sick in the kitchen sink.

         Charlie walked outside to assess the damage. Even though it was dark he could see outdoor furniture floating in the pool.

         “I’ll have to wait until daylight to clean up out here,” he muttered, glancing at the time and seeing it was nearly three am.

         He had nine hours to turn this disaster around before his parents returned.

         Trying to get any sense out of Waltz was proving impossible. Leaving his friend lying on the kitchen floor, he went upstairs to check on the damage. Both his, and his parent’s rooms had been used for sex.

         Closing the door on his room, he stripped the sheets from his parent’s bed. He flushed several used condoms down the toilet and opened the window to get rid of the smell of perfume and sex.


         By first light, he’d collected two garbage bags of bottles, cans and empty wine casks, stashing them behind the shed.

         From the pool he fished out various items of clothing, including knickers and the outdoor furniture.

         He was exhausted, but the thought of being found out spurred him on.

         It was now ten am. He had two more hours.

         The front window had been broken and there was still no sign of the glazier, although he’d called him, leaving a message that it was urgent.

         He wearily climbed back up the stairs, taking the freshly laundered sheets and remade his parent’s bed, making sure there was no one still asleep somewhere.


         At eleven am the glazier turned up to measure the window.

         “Lucky I’ve got a piece that’ll fit.”

          Within half an hour a new pane was fitted.

         “That’ll be two hundred and twenty dollars, son. Shall I leave an account?”

         “No, it’s okay, I’ll just be five minutes,” Charlie went to get the money from his savings.

         After the guy left, Charlie dragged out the vacuum cleaner and swept up the glass from the carpet.

         He nudged the sleeping Robert with the head of the vacuum. “Get up stupid !”

          “I feel like shit!” Robert groaned, picking himself off the floor. Staggering to the sofa he immediately went back to sleep.

         Charlie heard his parent’s car pulling into the garage. He glanced at the clock. It was two minutes to midday.

         “Hi, Darling. Everything okay?” His mother, called out.

         Gypsy the dog ran to meet her, leaping about, barking madly. It was as if she were trying to tell her something.