Scarlip

It was a warm beautiful August evening the night I became a scarlip as my friends say. The beginning of Merrit days the festival held in Mountain Iron, in celebration of the discovery of iron ore. Our whole block was sectioned off for the street dance and festivities. There was a band, food all over, and of course Iron Range Delight, drinking. That night there was another more serious incident involving guns and drinking underage, but that is still is court.

The evening started out great. We had a bunch of people at our apartment, drinking and getting geared up. We went down at about ten o'clock to watch the band finish up. I didn't realize it was that chilly when we left so I had run up to the apartment to get a sweatshirt. In the meantime some people whose names aren't even worth mentioning tried to entice my fiancé', Jake, into a bar, it didn't work. Jake's not that stupid.

Before we had left the house I had a small foam cup with some mountain dew and vodka. Not much just one cup, but I kind of mix mine hard. By the time we had gone down to the band and up to the bar that Jake's ma worked at I could feel the booze in me, along with the new drugs they had me on trying to "treat" my PTSD. I walked into the bar and sat down. Ordered up a mountain dew, and was sitting amongst the hustle and bustle of tourists and old timers. I was having a good time, had a nice buzz going but wasn't obviously drunk since I was underage by three days.

This is where it turned ugly; I had decided to go to the bathroom. I walked perfectly into the bathroom and all of a sudden everything went fuzzy. I walked into the toilet area in case I was going to puke, then turned away from the toilet, so I could sit down and let my head get straight. Well I don't believe I ever got to rest my head, because before I knew it all I could see was black tv-like fuzz. Then I hit the wall.

I wasn't out for very long. When I came too my tooth felt funny, so I reached up to feel it and almost passed out again. It was completely parallel with the roof of my mouth, pointing towards my throat. My immediate reaction was to put it back. I literally had to pry my tooth off the roof of my mouth then shove it back into the socket. And the blood was all over my hands and my face. My whole face just felt numb, and I felt like I had drunk a whole bottle of vodka. I felt completely hammered.

Then after I wrapped my head around the idea that I just knocked myself unconscious and slammed my tooth back into my mouth, I got up and started thinking on how I would make this look not as bad. I washed my face and hands off and made sure there was no blood left. I couldn't bear to look at my teeth. I mean the front ones were slightly crooked to begin with now it's a bit more of an angle, not noticeable though, surprisingly. I composed myself after ridding myself of all the blood and tried to drunk walk my way to the side door to avoid Jake, his ma and Biggie from seeing my face. The door was too hard to figure out when I was drunk and devastated. So I just calmly walked out the front door and nobody noticed.

Then I was outside, drunk and underage by three days. Although I do not condone underage drinking I do admit I was drinking three days before I was of age. I also do not condone drinking while on prescription meds, but I don't drink much and never thought of the side effects seriously. Outside of the bar were also all of my family's friends who've known me since I was a baby. So I staggered across the street to my apartment trying to look inconspicuous, got into the shadows of the buildings and fell face down spitting blood all over the sidewalk. My lip had gotten busted wide open during the bathroom tirade and felt like a huge appendage hanging off my face. I laid there on the concrete with the cool air blowing on my sore bulging face. Then my upstairs neighbor came down the sidewalk and stepped over me. This was not the coolest thing ever.

Finally the lady who lived next door came walking by and I called her into the shadows of the houses. She took one look at my face and started freaking out, a drunken nurse. I kept telling her go find Jake, he's across the street. Eventually after the horror of my face she went and told him.
Jake came when he saw me lying on the ground, running across the street. I guess I looked up at him and smiled and asked if my tooth still looked ok. He said I was just a bloody, swollen mess. Then he somehow got me inside the house and laid me out on the couch. The next thing I remember is our best friend Biggie holding out an icepack and washcloth. I ended up going to bed and leaving a blood spot that remains on my pillow to this day, I managed to get most of the stain out of the pillowcase. Jake and Biggie went over to the bar to investigate the "accident scene". No one could find any blood except for the piles around the sidewalk.

The funny thing is while I was lying on the concrete. I didn't feel any pain, just awkwardness in my tooth and a little soreness in my face and lip. I never felt any pain even the next day. It just looked like a purplish bruise in between my front teeth. My lip didn't fare as well, there's a scar in the middle of my lower lip and scar tissue that feels like a bb in my lip. Luckily I bashed my face in on a Saturday night and Monday morning I had a dentist appointment anyways, he just got a little extra surprise.
My dad picked me up for my appointment and barely had any words when he saw my face. I just laughed, what else can you do? All my dad said was rough, I was pretty rough looking. The dentist however gave my tooth a twenty percent chance of living. I couldn't feel the cold stuff that he dabbed on my tooth, which apparently is a bad sign. But it's been eight months now and it hasn't turned black or fallen out. I think I'm in the clear. It still moves a bit, I can tell in pictures. Mostly it seems like when I'm outside and cold is when it's at an odd angle, but I could be over analyzing it a bit. All in all I learned my lesson and always take it easy when I drink now.

My birthday came that week; my ma had a dinner for my stepbrother and I (we're only a couple days apart) at a local restaurant. It was the evening after my dentist appointment and he had went ahead with the cavity that had to be taken care of. Well my gums were swollen, swollen over the back of my tooth where he had done the cavity and injected the Novocain. All I wanted to do was sleep and I had to make it to dinner. It was awful. The day I turned twenty-one I went over to that same bar where I smacked up my face, drank a few, and I was fine! Never know what you're going to get.