Glass House Party 

I cradled my head in my hands as someone turned the music up again, desperately scrambling to get down the packed hallway and out of the front door.

Needless to say, my first house party was almost definitely going to be my last.

‘Where are you going?’ my friend Janice yelled directly into my ear, so I could hear her over the music.

‘Out!’ I yelled back, gesturing first at the door and then at the music.

‘Relax!’ she laughed. ‘Get into it!’

Somewhere else in the house I heard a glass smash and shook my head with a grimace. I waved goodbye and pushed apart an enthusiastic couple blocking the entranceway. I was barely past them before they were back on top of one another.

Suppressing the urge to gag, I made it to the entranceway, and the beautiful glass stair balustrade that stretched from the ground to the ceiling.

Huh, I mused to myself. So that’s what that smashing sound was.

         A group of men stood around the pile of shattered balustrade, laughing and pointing at it. I rolled my eyes.


         Suddenly the lights flicked on and, a beat later, the music died.

‘What the hell is going on here?!’

The voice echoed from somewhere in the house ­­– and they sounded angry.

         ‘I want everybody out of my house right now!’ it screamed. ‘The police are already on their way!’

The crowd surged with a vengeance, flowing for every possible exit like water leaving a dam. I briefly wondered if I should leave some money for the glass repair. Melbourne had a less considerate party population, it seemed, but I didn’t have a chance before I was swept away by the flood of hooligans rushing for the street.

I let myself get carried away, as limp as possible so I didn’t break anything or get stepped on.

‘Oh yeah,’ I muttered to myself as the stampede brought me to my car. ‘Definitely my last one.’