Virgin Morning"

She woke up drenched in sweat. Moments after waking, her heart was pounding wildly in her chest, and fanciful patterns danced before her eyes, created by the painfully bright light shining directly into her half-conscious eyes. Her head roared like a storm-tossed sea, while what was happening in her stomach was nothing more than a small typhoon created by last night's mix of whiskey, bourbon, and cheap beer, and worse still, a spicy McDonald's salad. It all tried to escape, rushing one into the other, but thankfully, it ended with a powerful burp and a bittersweet taste in her mouth. Perhaps her throat was too narrow.

For a few moments, she tried to bring her consciousness to a state that allowed for even a modicum of logical thought, but after several failed attempts, she gave up, and the small forge at the back of her skull had just begun producing an armadillo, which, for unknown reasons, opened fire every time Christin tried to move.

Just as Christin began to succumb to blissful sleep, something terrifying happened: a cheap plastic watch she'd bought one day on sale let out a signal announcing that a sound as loud as Gregorian chants was about to erupt. Christin, her face filled with terror, lunged toward the little monster, throwing off her thin duvet, which slowly fell to the ground. She had almost managed to catch the monster in her hands when a terrifying sound pierced Christin's brain like an ice pick. Her vision darkened, and the mysterious force that had kept her on her feet suddenly left her, causing Christin to stagger. She would have surely fallen if it weren't for her mother's brilliant idea: she placed both the bed Christin stood next to and the dresser on which the vicious monster was massacring her hearing organs against the wall, a short distance apart.

"What a wonderful first day of vacation ," Christin thought, not without pain. Rubbing her bloodshot eyes with the back of her hand, she tried to suppress the dizziness and the churning in her stomach. Ever since she'd learned that her questionable education wouldn't end tragically this year, she'd been drinking heavily every day. Especially since she'd met a pleasant and handsome brunette at a nightclub. Adrian, though not much older than her, behaved with the courtesy and finesse only befitting a man in his thirties.

Not to mention the fact that he was incredibly rich and was throwing money around.

Remembering Adrian, who had come over last night with his friends and, if memory serves, had slept with her, she looked at the spot where he should have been sleeping. There, on the pillow, lay a folded piece of paper. Christin walked over to the bed, passing her torn underwear and forcibly ripped tights. With slight surprise, she picked up the paper and unfolded it, staring in bewilderment at the text:

"My friends (4) and I decided you were pretty good. We conducted a test: 'Can you do the Kama Sutra with a drunk girl?' Strangely enough, yes, you can, you proved it to us yesterday. Thank you, the research has 'progressed'. Ha Ha Ha..

With complete

disrespect ,

Adrian

and company ;)"

The folded piece of paper floated from her numb hand to the ground, and five ten-dollar bills flew out of it while still in the air....