Uhg, it hurts.

Crusty, dried bile sits in the back of my throat like sand. It doesn’t necessarily hurt as much as it makes me want to vomit more. Well, I assume I’ve vomited. I’m not sure which would be worse: vomit or sand in the back of my throat. God, my mouth’s dry. I take a deep breath through my nose and exhale with a cringe as the smell of something fowl races out of my lungs.

Okay, so Malibu is now on the ‘Do Not Drink in Excess’ list. It *should* be on the ‘Do Not Drink AT ALL’ list, but I have a a sweet tooth when it comes to- ugh. Oh god.

My stomach churned at the thought of anything alcoholic, like a small gremlin has crawled into my body and decided that anything remotley close to the inhibitor should induce a form of punishment. That’s fair.

Alright, water. I neeeeeeeed water. And some sort of pain medcation. Like- stat. Hah, imma doctor.

A rough texture cuts into my cheeks and I realized I had smiled and laughed externally at my own lameness. Cool, hope no one’s around. I don’t wanna open my eyes to find out though, honestly. Especially because I am almost positive I have fallen asleep outdoors.

A gravel like substance is cradling my body that can only be natures own ground, unless there is some new fad with beds? Dumb fad, don’t make it a thing... or make it a thing and make millions- organic bedding: you have back problems because original humans slept on rocks! Dear lord, it’s sad because it would sell.

Okay, come on. upupup upup. Get up. Let’s go, new day. Stuff to do. was yesterday friday or sunday? Shit, am I missing work right now? UP.

I turn my head towards the warmth that was almost painful on my back and became blinded as a brightness that fought through my closed lids aggressively made its presence known. That is the sun, I’m definitley outside. Fuck dude. Where am I?

“Mmmmgrrrr” another deep breath through the nose, but this time I let the awful smell bring me around like smelling salts would a fainted fragile woman of the old days. Maybe if I pretend I’ve only fainted from the shock of some horrible telenovela-like news I’ll be less miserable. I am a LADY, after all.

The gravel shifts away and rushes towards my face, some getting into my nostrils as I huff loudly at my own dumb antics. I am not funny, stop laughing. Jesus. Water. Undo that “miracle” and make the wine in my system water once more. Please? Puleease?

A natural, harsh light offends my eyes as I finally relax my lids. Attempting to adjust to what must have been the midday sun, I open them slowly while rolling my body away from the shade I had either created myself or no doubt intelligently found last night. There is noise here, it’s dull though, like I was hearing it from under water. I yawn to pop my eardrums and regret the action immediatley.

Loud.

Very loud. So, confirmed there are people around, some of them screaming children- but not like terrified kind of scream, these kids sounded like they were having the time of their lives. Lucky.

There is definitley water downwind from me, the sound of waves hitting land was thunderous and very unwelcome and based on the smell of fresh salt water, I’m going to assume it’s the ocean. Now, that’s a problem. There is no ocean in Missouri yet, I’m pretty sure we still have a couple of years before the midwest becomes beachfront. So, to put it articulately- what the fuck.

I take a hit of physical pain to look around fully and see I am on a beach with far too many signs in spanish. Now, it’s been a while since I took spanish in University, but I’m pretty sure this is Mexican spanish. I really hope it is, because of all the spanish speaking countries to end up, Mexico is the closest to home.

It is now that I notice I have earned a small audience. Mostly children, a couple of teenagers and one adult rushing over to see what the ruckus is about. This must be what beached sea life felt like when it washes up in a tourist area.

“Hola.” The word was familiar but my voice was not, my vocal chords strained and screamed as I pushed the word past my damaged throat. Some of the children took a step behind others who put on a brave face, I was now some sort of monster to be faced. Great. “Como estas?” I coughed to clear the bile from my throat, and winced as I felt chunks of the fowl smelling stuff fall further down my esophagus. “Donde estoy?”

“Aye! Mama!” a shrill voice reverberated against my eardrums and wracked against my brain like a battery ram. Every part of my being wanted to curl into myself and shut this harsh offending world out, but a more rational part of me figured if me simply talking scared the young ones, I might get kicked with a sudden movement like that. I was some weird white lady on the beach after all. They probably thought something was wrong with me. I mean, there is, but still...

The adult went from speed walking to running as she heard what I could only assume was her child call out to her. She spoke quickly and harshly to the kids, who soon dissapated at her request. “Are you hurt?” Her tone was soft and gentle, refreshing compared to the other sounds from this place. Like a breath of fresh, non-pukey air.

I sat up slowly and assessed, I was definitley sore and weak but not injured. That’s good. “No, but I need help. Ayuda me? Where am I?”

“Ala Playas de Rosarito. Baja California, Mexico.” Cool.

Beams of light danced along my bed. As I began to open my eyes my head instantly started to throb. I slowly began to sit up and take a sit of water from the small glass cup sitting on my nightstand. After abruptly learning it was mezcal I then began to try and depict what happened to me. Unfortunately though it was as if my memory had been wiped clean, for I had no recollection of what had played out the night before. Where even was I? All I heard was soft murmurs of Spanish jazz playing in the background. I finally mustered up the energy to stand up and explore the hotel I was staying at in hopes of understanding where I was. Yet, if I had known of the events to come, I may have allowed myself time to sit in this bed a while longer. As I opened the door from the bedroom I was quickly in dismay at what I saw next. My actions from drinking too much mezcal had costed me the misery and despair of a whole lifetime.

A heavy beat in the background, suddenly everything stopped.

I heard purring in my ear and a little nibble on my cheek. I sat up quickly, what a mistake. My heart pounding it’s way what felt like out of my chest. Pain tearing through my eye sockets and head. The sensation of bongo drums being played loudly in my ears and against my head. My head felt like it was going to burst open. Sweat beading on my brow. My throat dry and my mouth gritty with dirt. Yuck. I peeled open my eyes, the light driving its brightness into my sight. I sat there in the brightly lit room trying to adjust myslef to my surroundings. Taking deep breaths of the thick air to calm my heighted senses. The smell of mud, sweat and sewer lingering in my nose. I held back the sensation to vomit. Getting a grip on my bodily functions, I looked over and saw a kitten near me grooming itself. It’s purring helped me slow my heart rate and beathing for the moment. Where was I? I slowly looked around at walls made of straw and mud. No glass on the windows, the door was a single pale white cotton fabric. I looked down at myself. I was still clothed except for a broken bra strap, missing shoes, missing underware and a scrape on my right arm. I didn’t feel the scrape until I saw it. The wound pounded with the bongo drums in my head. I was distracted from the pain with the thought of, “Missing underware?!” I quickly looked around the room. There was no one else in the room. “Did I have sex?” “Was I kidnapped?” “What the hell happened?” I told myself sex didn’t happen. But why was my underware missing? As for the other questions rushing through my head. I had no idea.

My thoughts were all a jumble. I needed to think straight. There were distant sounds of yelling, waves crashing and wind whipping around the room I was in. “Waves crashing? I wasn’t near the water,” I thought. I stood up rapidly but quickly returned to my inital position. The pain in my head, my arm and the nausea rushed back like customers rushing a store at a Black Friday Sale. Again, I composed myself and slowly stood up. I braced myself against the mud wall and stablize myself. I looked out the little window and saw the ocean, beautiful deep saphire blue. The air was cool against my face. I took a deep breath and my head cleared a little. Where was I?

I heard the yelling clearer now. “No! Es tu problema, idiota!”

California? I gently and slowly made my way to the door. Pushed aside the cotton fabric and looked out. It was painfully beautiful. So much sun made my head throb a few beats faster. I squinted in the light, looking at the source of the voices that were still screaming in Spanish. My presence paused their arguement and they both glanced my way. A sign behind them said Bienoviendo a Cancun! “Mexico...I was in Mexico.

Blinding sunlight charges into the sky, claiming the night. I reach for my phone, but my hand touches an empty tequila bottle instead. The bottle falls to the floor, and the sound of the shattering glass jolts me from the haze of last night. My passport lay open on the nightstand. The room starts to spin as I force myself out of the King-sized bed. I look at the last stamped page of the passport—“ACAPULCO, 05 MAY 19.”

“How in the hell?” The words stick in my dry mouth.

Screams and laughter penetrate the thin hotel walls. I stumble hesitantly towards the window, grip the flowered patterned curtain, and slide it aside. The sun pierces through my partially closed eyelids, so I hold up my hand in a salute, creating just enough shade to make the bright beams bearable.

My heart sinks as I noticed a figure in the distance who contently leaped from a cliff.

“No….” Before I could scream out, a small ocean cove that sat 40m below a cliff swallowed the jumper’s stiff body. My heart starting beating uncontrollably. I had to do something. I had to save him. To tell someone. Just as panic started to set in, a head emerged from the stale ocean water, and the jumper swam to shore.

“What an idiot.” I wander through room like a puppy looking for a tennis ball in high grass to try and find anything that can help me piece together last night. A pamphlet lay on the table: ’Best Acapulco City Tour Cliff Divers Chapel of Peace & Diego Rivera Mural’.

“What in the holy hell?” shock enveloped me. When I was in college, I loosely recall traveling to Mexico with a few close friends for Spring Break. I don’t even remember most of the trip because we kept cold drinks in our hands most of the time we were here. It was always 5 o’clock in Mexico. We hiked the Sierra Madre del Sur. Memories begin to flood in like the control gate of a dam had been opened. I, too, had jumped from the LaQuebrada cliff. The sweet memories brought a slanted smile to my warm, sun-kissed cheeks.

The ring of my cell phone shocks me back to reality. How in the hell did I get here?... I look over at the screen to find the name of my best friend from college.

“Joe, where in the hell are you?” Charlie’s voice pierced my eardrums, “We’re supposed to take the Glass-Bottom Boat Ride to Isla La Roqueta in like 20 minutes!”

“I have no clue. Did I come here with you? What’s going on?”

“Dude… You can’t be serious? We’ve been here like three days. Get your ass up and come on.”

“I think I am going to sit this one out,” but Charlie had already ended the call. I hate these new phones. You never know when a call is over. Now, I’m sitting here talking to a blank screen like a dumbass.

I draw the curtains over the harsh rays of sun, climb back into bed, close my eyes and try to sleep off Cinco de Mayo somewhere in Mexico...