Amnesia (Kerry)

Amnesia

The throbbing in my head is excruciating. I feel so sick. The nausea is overwhelming when I stand up. I ease myself down again onto the hard bed and close my eyes. I remember nothing of last night but it’s clear I’m in jail. Things must have got out of hand. Not my usual style. I’m generally very careful. I like to know what’s going on, no unnecessary risks.

As I roll over painfully I feel something sharp press in to my hip. The key I pull out of my pocket has a numbered tag on it. Looks like a locker key. It’s the key to my gym locker. Mostly people use their gym locker for a change of clothes but I have found it a very useful place for other things; temporary space for things that come and go, if you get my drift. I won’t go into too much detail here. I don’t want to incriminate myself.

My eyes are a bit blurry but I can see something stuck to the key. It’s a small square of aluminium foil. I peel it carefully off the metal and spread it out. I know exactly what this is for. There’s still some white powder on the inside. Nothing wrong with a little enhancement when you’re having a good time. As I said, I’m pretty careful. I’d never try to take it with me overseas or anything. You’d have to have rocks in your head. Seems I must have been having a bit of a party last night.

I dig in to my pocket to see what else I can find. The bloodstained tissue could mean anything but I reckon it collaborates my vague recollection of a party. I can be pretty belligerent when provoked, specially if I’ve been stoking myself up. Getting into fights is nothing new for me. I prefer to settle my differences amicably but sometimes there just isn’t any way the other bloke will see my point of view. That would explain my bruised cheek and the blood on the front of my shirt.

Inside the tissue there’s a ticket. It’s for the Big Day Out. That was yesterday. Looks like the pieces might be falling into place. I do remember looking forward to the Big Day Out. Now there’s a rumble. I planned to go with my best mate. What an opportunity to let your hair down, listen to some great music, and really party hard. Other years it’s been easy to get some extra partying ingredients into the show but I heard this year there were going to be some sniffer dogs about. I reckoned it would be worth the risk though; I look so respectable. So I did take some stuff with me. Not to trade of course, strictly for my own use. It’s coming back now.

My mate and I have a standing arrangement for the Big Day Out. Meet in the morning, do all the bands, have a quiet one or two then head for the nearest club. I remember being with him yesterday but we argued. He wanted to go home early and not party on at the club, reckoned I was boring him out of his mind. I took offence of course. The fight must have drawn the attention of the police. And, as they say, the rest is history.

I always carry my mate’s phone number with me when we’re out together in case we get separated. The scrap of paper at the bottom of my pocket bears that out. His name and number is scrawled across it in his handwriting. I’m going to hang on to it but I won’t call him yet. He can stew for a while.