Strong Christian Morals

I was raised up on strong Christian morals, and could always justify my actions with the knowledge of what was right and wrong. I always tried my hardest at whatever I did, and strived to be the best person I could be. I was the person that anyone could look to if they were having a problem, or if they needed advice on anything. So why did I so readily give up on all that I believed in, all that I was, on that one night? That one night that changed my life forever.
It was the spring of 2007, and I was on my way up to St. Louis with one of my closest friends to visit his family for the week. I was 16 years old. We rode in the back seat of his mothers’ car, with her driving, and his grandmother napping in the passenger seat. The cool breeze of the air conditioning filled the car, and mixed with the overpowering scent of new leather was almost mesmerizing. Listening to my favorite music playing loudly through my cd player I let the powers at be seduce me into a strong sleep that would last until we arrived at our destination later on that night.
As we arrived I fell out of the car and went around to the trunk to grab my bag. My friend stretched his arms out and grabbed a blue gym bag from the bottom of the pile. He leaned in close to me and quietly said, “I got the stuff in this bag dude, alright? I’m going to put it under the bed in the room we’re staying in. We’ll get it out once everyone goes to sleep. Cool?”
I nodded as he spilled out the orders, and without giving it a second thought agreed to everything he said. “I got it man, this is going to be sweet!”
We went into his families beautiful home where I was introduced to his Aunt and Uncle, shaking their hands, somewhat nervously I’m sure, and introduced myself back to them. The homey scent of apple pie hung pleasantly in the air throughout their house, and candles were lit in every room making everything feel extra cozy. We were led to the room where we would be staying for the night, and shown where the bathroom was right across the hall. After our hosts were positive that we felt at home they quickly left us so that everyone could be off to sleep.
My friend and I got comfortable in our room, and sat down and hung out for a few hours. He continued to look at his phone to check the time. The last time he checked it, it was 12:25 A.M. “Alright man, I’m going to check to see who all’s up. Just stay in here.” I was quick to listen to him as he was the experienced one with these matters. He slowly opened the door leading out to the hallway, and quietly closed the door behind him. I sat in patience waiting for him by myself in our room. He came back about three minutes later with a mischievous smile across his face. “They’re all in bed… We’re good!”
I watched as he quickly pulled out the contents of the blue gym bag and sat them on the bed. Two shot glasses, a fifth of vodka, and four beers to top it all off. He grabbed one of the shot glasses and stretched his arm out in my direction. I looked at it sitting there in his hand, questioning it all for the first time now. I looked up at my friend, as he was staring back at me. “Here you go man, take it.” I grabbed the glass from his hands, and held it steady as he poured the crystal clear liquid into it slowly. I could smell the strong, unmistakable scent of the alcohol fill the room. We held our glasses up to each other’s, said cheers to having an awesome night, put the glasses to our lips, and tilted back, letting the burning drink flow quickly down our throats. We did this over and over.
I woke up to the pitch-black darkness of an unfamiliar room. I immediately knew that something wasn’t right. Then I realized what it was. I was vomiting… Everywhere. I quickly got up, trying to hold the disgusting bile in until I can find my way to the bathroom. But it was no use. By the time I get in the bathroom I had left a trail of stomach fluid and alcohol leading all the way back to the room I was staying in. It got on the sink, the mirror, the toilette, the carpet, the rugs, everything. I stood there, looking at myself in the mirror, not having a clue of what I needed to do. I reached for my phone in my pocket to see what time it was. 3:25 A.M. I did my best to clean up what I could with some water and toilette paper, and stumbled back to the room. I felt as if the world was spinning around me, as I slowly opened the door up. I turned on the lights, only to see my friend passed out laying sideways across the bed. He didn’t even move. I turned the lights back off, layed down, and passed out.
When I woke up later on that morning the sun was shining through the windows so brightly that I could barely hold my eyes open. I saw that my friend had already gotten up, so I forced myself up off of the ground and dragged my feet to the kitchen. The normally bad taste of morning breath mixed with the old vomit from earlier and created a taste that was so horrible it cannot be described. I tried to recall events from the night before, but everything seemed somewhat like a big cloudy dream. As I turned the corner to the kitchen I saw that I was the last one to wake up. I sat at the table, and tried to look better than I felt.
“What happened to you last night?” my friends mom asked. I rattled off some story about having too much beef jerky and root beer, which caused me to have an upset stomach and puke everywhere. I thought to myself that there was no way anyone was going to believe me. But she seemed to buy it, along with everyone else, and the subject changed as breakfast was being served. After breakfast we all parted ways from the table to go and get ready for the day ahead. When I got back to the room my friend and I were staying in, he closed the door behind us and sat down on the bed.
“Dude, last night was so much fun! We have to do it again when we get back in town.” I couldn’t help but think that he wouldn’t feel quite the same if he had experienced exactly what I had, but I agreed that it was fun, and began making plans with him for the next weekend anyways.
Things went on as they were planned for that day, and the rest of the week, until the last day of our vacation. We were staying at my friends other family members house, and he and I were downstairs talking when all of a sudden his eyes get huge. “What is it?” I ask.
“Dude, I just remembered I left all the empty bottles in the closet at the other house!”
This was a disaster. There was no hope for us now. I quickly began to freak out as I could feel the air around me getting so thick that you could cut it with a knife. My friend quickly sensed that I was getting very scared, and assured me that he would just have his cousin go over and get the bottles before his Aunt and Uncle had time to find it. It took him a long time to convince me, but eventually I calmed down, and tried to not worry too much about what was going to happen after that. Like my friend kept telling me, everything was going to be fine.
Needless to say when we got back home from the trip, everything was not fine. In fact, before we got back my parents already knew about the alcohol bottles that we left in the closet. Apparently my friends Aunt found them shortly after we left their house and told my friends mom about it too. We were so stupid to think that we could honestly get away with it all. Not only did everyone know that I lied about the vomit in the bathroom, but no one trust my friend and me anymore. It was the worst feeling I had ever felt in my life when my parents just starred at me. I could feel their disappointment. I knew better than to make those decisions.
So needless to say, I didn’t get to drink with my friend the next weekend, or any weekend after that. I put that night behind me and repented from acting like that anymore. My friend did not. He went on partying as I knew he would. We grew apart over the years, having less and less in common as we got older. We became two very different people. We now have such different beliefs in the way that we should act, that it’s hard to believe that we ever were friends. But we were. We were best friends, who hit a fork in the road, and each took a very different path. And without getting caught that night in St. Louis, I may not have taken the path that led to the place that I am very happy to be at today, the path that led me back to being me.