Disclaimer:This story goes nowhere.This is just how I remember things. maybe not exactly how they actually happened. I wrote down every detail I could recall, even if most of it probably don't matter. Honestly, this was more for me than anyone else-just my raw memory dump. Take it as it is.The Prelude to DisasterAfter 100 days until graduation celebration, most schools had that beautiful tradition where everyone gets hammered with their classmates and makes questionable decisions they'll brag about for three months and regret for a lifetime.But not me. I was broke, unwanted. So, naturally, I wasn't invited.But I had one friend: Lieslav the Unbearable. A professional chaos merchant, this guy had been drinking and smoking since he exited the womb. Me and my crew of degenerates fetishized alcohol. So we planned our own off-brand celebration: in the forest, unsupervised and really stupid.My mom, bless her naive soul, gave me 20 Euro thinking I'd buy snacks and maybe a movie ticket. Instead, I assembled the Avengers of Degeneracy. I packed: an ancient 2010 Samsung Android, fully charged. A pack of 8 cigarettes - a greatest hits compilation of random brands I'd hoarded, no lighter. Thin jeans, hoodie, thin socks and thin jacket. Then I got a call from Lieslav, already yelling why I wasn't there yet. The journey began.The Arctic Expedition4.5km on foot to the town center. -10C outside, snowflakes slicing me, ground frozen, not a lot of snow.I was focused, fueled by warm tea and misplaced hope. I arrived, and of course, the squad was late by 15 minutes. When they showed up, it was a mighty squad of heroes:Camo Guy - full military gear, oldest of us, a LARPer who thought he was on a NATO recon missionLieslav-you already knowThe Dipshit Brigade-five teenage lemmings that didn't matterEveryone threw in their coins and summoned a homeless wizard to bring us 4 to 7 bottles of O-Zone Flavored Vodka, a drink that tasted like citrus.
i didnt drink until i was twenty two
Alongside that? Some soda and plastic cups. No food.The Forest SanctuaryWe marched into the forest like it was some kind of arctic expedition. Inside, it felt like another realm. Wind died down-serenity. Trees stood still like they knew what was coming. We built shelter-well, something like it. Camo Guy constructed his special lean-to over a literal puddle he didn't know it was there somehow, he later complained that he couldn't sleep there.We started passing around 250ml cups like it was a sacrament. My cigarettes vanished faster than dignity, and we immediately adopted the "cigarette communism" policy: whoever had one, shared-or got robbed. Camo Guy whipped out an airsoft rifle. We went full militia mode. Shooting trees. Shooting the fireplace. Conversations were shallow. IQs falling.The Side QuestThen, as if the party wasn't already scraping the barrel of intelligence, Camo Guy slurred, "We need girls." The group nodded in unison. Lieslav rang up the local forest succubus with zero standards from his old Nokia contacts. Camo Guy and Lieslav left on a side quest to get instant ramen and the succubus-apparently known for "being down for anything."about 2 hours later, they returned. She wasn't a looker. Didn't matter. She drank like a barbarian. I matched her like a true warrior. More than 1 liter of vodka into my system.Camo Guy, trying to earn his "Forest Chad" badge, dragged her into his soggy shag shack - the lean-to over the puddle and initiated what was surely the most uncomfortable, acoustically depressing, saddest forest sex in history. Lieslav, loyal as ever, cuddled up in the same puddle like a sad third wheel from a failed Soviet rom-com.
The BlackoutMe? My last memory was standing near the fireplace.Then blackout. Boom. Respawn next to the dying fire at 4AM. Someone maybe me, maybe forest spirits dragged me there. I didn't die. Surrounded by corpses of regrets, stale air, and broken dreams, everyone looked like they had just been complicit in a murder.Phone: dead.Warmth: theoretical.Hope: extinct.Camo and Succubus were cuddling. Camo claimed he had chemical warmers. I searched his scattered gear. Nothing. I had no idea how his airsoft gun, backpack, and rest of the gear got scattered around the whole campsite.Lieslav gave me gloves. I borrowed a last cigarette from someone. Lit it up.The Long Walk HomeI decided to leave. Problem? I went the wrong direction. Strutting out like a drunk viking with no stars to navigate-with frostbite and a death wish. No animals, no people, no sounds. Just me, slowly dying brain cells. So dark I couldn't even see my hands. I managed to leave the forest, hiked through frozen fields until I accidently hit a road or the hit found me - and walked in the wrong direction, again.Eventually, I found civilization. the same damn town started in. Poetic justice if the rest of the lemmings went the wrong way too.I crashed at the central bus stop by the police station like a hobo on cooldown, then zombie-walked back home. 4.5km of purgatory. I sat down a couple of times for about 2 minutes on the side of the road to rest and recover the last stamina I had.The CreditsI arrived at my village a human popsicle, Asphalt under my feet felt like salvation. opened home door and My mom saw the mess she birthed, she angrily told me that i was blue, but didn't say anything else. made me tea, and I collapsed in bed like I'd just survived D-Day for idiots. It must have been about 6 AM.15 hours of blissful coma sleep. No dreams, blissful void. Then 7 more of lying down like an emotional vegetable. My dad mocked me. I accepted it. No fight left
Then I finally had some energy to get out of the bedI logged into plug.dj and passed out mid-song while Paralyzer by Finger Eleven played me into the credits.
