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the red glowing basement, deep blood red carpeting that painted the walls and caught on the dust particles stuck floating around the room, under back lighting. there is some kind of party, i don't know them, they must know my parents, like i am a child with no one to talk to, they lower themselves and humor themselves with my naive presence. everyone is around tables and bars drinking for little bottles filled with black liquid, and their talking slowly blends into a ruffled mid-tone gray noise. i steal one of the bottles from one of the tables when no one is watching, and take little shots over by the colorless quilt covered couches. It is a really sweet cherry flavor that has no bite to it, and this excites me, so i take several shots in rapid intervals, anxious with glee about the buzz and drunkenness. part of me is ashamed of the ease of the liquor, since some other kids come up and make fun of me, but i try to hide the bottle. later when the people are gone, i look through the cabinets to find the rest of the liquor, but it is all gone. i panic, and go running throughout the house, tearing apart dressers and the pantry to see where they are keeping it from me. i find my way up to my parents room, and i find them arm-in-arm, vigorously kissing, like they were both twenty years old again without any worries or stresses, like their love was still fresh. they both look at me and smile, without embarrassment of the display they are showing me. they ask me what is wrong, but i grumble and walk away. i head back down to the basement. the deep, ominous red rooms tilt, and are covered with blurriness. i try to wipe it off, but it only makes it worse.
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