Pulling her blood covered finger from her cheek, Eliza licked the tip and marveling at the metallic taste, she swirled it in the effervescent fluid, deepening its color to a deep rose. Picking up the glass, she thought, “Well, Eliza, you don’t know what happened to the others, but it’s not like they ever accepted you anyway. They were shocked that you, the class outcast, the butt of all their jokes and pranks, would even consider attending the graduation reunion. You are better off without them. Good riddance to callous, snobbish rubbish .”

Turning, she offered the room at large a mock salute with her glass. “Cheers,” Eliza called out, upending her glass and deeply drinking down the sparkling liquid. Enjoying the slight coppery taste as it slid down her throat, she lowered the glass from her lips and wiped her mouth with the back of her arm, further smearing the blood on her face. With a maniacal giggle, Eliza flung the empty crystal flute at the wall, jumping up and down in place clapping her hands together, like an excited two year old, when the glass shattered, spraying fragments onto the table.

Eliza stood, rooted in place, watching, completely mesmerized as a few drips of wine ran down the wall, leaving faint trails in the blood. Once the drops reached the floor, and mixed with the liquid puddle there, sighing the words, “Oh well,” she turned, and began exploring the room again.

Crossing the width of the room she made her way over to a pair of heavy oak doors and tried to pull them open. When the doors simply shook and rattled on their hinges, Eliza laughed and shouted, “Push, Eliza, Push.” She pushed down the release latch and attempted to open the door. Again it rattled loudly but remained firmly closed. Putting her considerable weight into it, Eliza flung herself against the door, trying to shove it open. Slamming into the unmoving surface, she was bounced back by her momentum, and sliding on the slick floor, she toppled over, landing with a squish and thud on her butt in a particularly deep puddle of blood.

Beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol, Eliza laid down on the floor and laughing, uncontrollably, stretched her arms straight out. She moved her arms up and down, while opening and closing her legs, making an obscene angel in the blood. After a few minutes, she struggled to sit and then stand, without ruining the image she worked to create. Standing there in front of the oak doors Eliza stared down at the angel, laughing joyously at the sight.

Her laughter slowing and becoming less enthusiastic, she began searching for something else to do. “If I’m going to be trapped in here,” she thought to herself, “I might as well enjoy myself.”