Volume 1 (1999/2000)
Issue
1 (March 1999)
Issue
2 (Nov. 1999)
Issue 3 (Dec. 1999)
Issue 4 (Feb. 2000)
Issue 5 (March 2000)
Issue 6 (April 2000)
Issue
7 (May 2000)
Volume 2 (2000/2001)
Issue 1 (Sept. 2000)
Issue 2 (Oct. 2000)
Issue 3 (Jan. 2001)
Issue 4 (March 2001)
Issue 5 (April 2001)
Issue 6 (May 2001)
Volume 3 (2001)
Issue 1 (Sept. 2001)
Issue 2 (Nov. 2001)
Categories
Sport: 1
2 3
Lifestyles: 1 2
3
Commentary: 1 2
3
Review: 1 2
3
Writing: 1 2
3
Event: 1 2
3
My Sixteenth Birthday
Barry Lysaght
Glenstal Abbey School
The author of this month's story is Barry Lysaght (5th Year), Glenstal
Abbey School, Murroe, Co. Limerick. Barry has written in the past for
Student Xpress, most notably his article on the Celtic Tiger, 'Grrr-eed
in the eye of the Tiger'. This essay came second in the National Presentation
of the AT Cross Writers of the Future Awards, 1999.
Again I leaned my forehead against the cold surface of the car window, vacantly watching the night-time blur of darting lights amid an ocean of twilit black. The car flew across the bumpy road, its lights slicing the darkness, passing like a torchlit messenger through the night. I slid my hands back into the sleeve cuffs of my jacket to once again feel the cosy warmth envelop my frozen fingers.
"Everything OK back there Dave?" My father's voice broke my
brief dreaminess and I sat up in the car seat.
"Huh? Yeah, fine! Eh ... are we nearly there yet?" The childish
question was all I could muster.
"About five more minutes now son. So Steve and the lads will be meeting
you outside then, I suppose?"
"Yeah..." I mumbled dejectedly.
Somehow I had the strange sensation of uneasiness about this whole disco scene with the lads. At school and on the frequent barter of visits to each other's houses, Steve was quiet but friendly, slightly introvert and a bit unsure of himself. In the dancehall however, he was an animal. The bouncers had to be called in countless times due to his various acts of imprudence: fighting, breaking into the DJs cabin and pouring his Coke all over the CDs, breaking bottles in the middle of the floor - it was like a Jeckyll and Hyde act! However, progressively Steve's behaviour had been getting worse, becoming wilder, more tempestuous and more unruly.
"Brighten up a bit for God's sake! I've never seen anybody so down on their birthday! What's the matter?" I mumbled something back about a big maths exam coming up, and with a sigh returned to resting against the window. Rain began to fall ...
I reached the nightclub at just after 9.30pm. Sure enough, Steve and the lads were waiting outside in the rain, shuffling impatiently like geese. Hesitantly, I closed the car door behind me as I jogged through the quickening drizzle toward them. A few muttered greetings were exchanged and I received a pat on the back and sullen 'happy birthday' greetings. We made our way to the doors out of which the muffled drone of the music emanated. Just then I stopped and turned around. I saw the wet body of my father's car skimming through the rain like a young salmon - lithe and free - leaving me alone with these people. And with that, a cold sensation of fear gripped me. I was alone - deserted here with these friends I hardly knew anymore.
We had been in the dancehall for nearly an hour, and things were going surprisingly peacefully. Steve had been dancing for a while and was actually showing a bit of calm and control, even if he was a little bit mysterious when he spoke to us. At least there had been no trouble, I reassured myself as the hall exploded into life with another dance tune. I decided to forget Steve and any worry and just to enjoy myself - it was my birthday after all. The music played on.
The club was now fully alive with the multitudes of young people bouncing in unison to the beat, the lights colouring them in its bright shade like separate pictures. I glanced around casually for Steve and the lads but did not see them. Strange, I thought to myself, they had been dancing here all night - really at the centre of things. Why leave now? The tune ended and in the momentary confusion I saw a flash of white passing through the door - the colour of Steve's shirt. A sick feeling welled in my gut, that familiar feeling I had got that night Steve had snapped and broke a bottle over the bartender's head - the feeling of danger.
I pushed my way through the crowds, desperately trying not to lose sight of the shirt so I could catch up with them and see where they were going. Steve wove this way and that through the masses as I barely kept him within my view, through one door, past another, each corridor littered with smokers and couples getting off. I broke into a sprint, a sick confusion powering my legs forward towards him as he pushed the bar on the emergency exit door.
"Steve!" I screamed, but he continued on out into the night air. I bolted outside, and followed the sound of running footsteps crunching over the gravel perimeter of the dancehall. It was now raining heavily, the raindrops pecked savagely at the puddles. My ribs ached, my lungs burned and my legs lurched forward languidly. The bitter wind now blowing stung my eyes as I groped forward in the inky blackness of the night, feebly calling Steve's name between breaths. I turned the corner of the building and there, lit by a pale shaft of moonlight, was Marcus, Phil, Daniel and Steve huddled together in a circle speaking fervently near the edge of the fencing. The swollen river roared below.
"Lads", I wheezed, trying to recover my breath. "What's going on? Why leave so early?" Steve lashed his head around viciously, his eyes wide and glistening, his breath filling the cold air with warm clouds.
"Get lost!" he growled in a voice that I barely recognised
as his. "Get lost - now!" Never before had I seen Steve like
this - he was like a wild beast, with his eyes so wide and his gums raw.
I was taken aback at the sight.
"Steve! Cool it, I was only wondering why you ran off like that..."
Barely had the words left my lips when Steve sprang forward, swinging
his fists madly, catching me right across my face, knocking me against
the wall and onto the ground - unconscious.
My eyes opened groggily. Stretching out above me was a bleak white ceiling, and the quick, sharp beeping of the hospital machines filled my ears. I rolled my head to one side and a sharp pain seared across the back of my head. I winced. My nose felt funny.
"Dave... thank God you're awake. Are you OK?" My father's familiar voice cooed to me. I opened my eyes fully and croaked a response.
"Dave - can you remember anything that happened last night outside the nightclub? Anything at all?" I racked my brain tiredly, and finally muttered brief details of the lads at the back, the rain, the roaring river and being punched and falling over. My dad inhaled deeply and spoke again.
"Dave, you're in the Mater hospital with minor injuries to your head and a broken nose. You've been unconscious for nine hours. Steve and your friends, they .... they...." He trailed off in half speech nervously, sounding choked. Despite my sedated condition, I sensed the cold tension in the air from the way he spoke. The clock on the wall ticked. 8.27am.
"Dave, I don't know how to break it to you but ... last night when you were hit by Steve? Your friends were found at the bottom of the river behind the night-club. We think they jumped. They're dead son."
Frozen mute by the last three words, I closed my eyes, and a lonely tear played its way down my cheek. Everything was suddenly blank and foreign to me, and I clenched my fist, quivering in sadness.
"Why?" I gasped, desperately trying not to break down into tears; yet deep down knowing the answer to my question.
"The post-mortem has revealed traces of ecstasy in their blood. About 10 grams, enough to kill two men. Dave, I'm so sorry..."
My mind churned in confusion, scarcely believing it all, yet when I had
seen them all huddled around together and Steve's eyes so wide and glazed,
I remember half-guessing, half-knowing that he had gone too far that night.
The clock ticked again and there was a shrill screech of an ambulance.
I sobbed for the lost innocence of youth.