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Crash Into Me_ A Survivor's Search for Justice - Liz Seccuro [16]

By Root 252 0
floor, a small group of brothers approached us.

“Hey, y’all want to go smoke some?” asked one.

Jim looked at me and shrugged his shoulders as if to say yes. I didn’t know he smoked. Jim leaned in and said, “They have pot.” Ohhhh … that kind of smoking.

I had never smoked marijuana in my life and didn’t want to start that day, so I told Jim I’d be fine staying in the common room. I was tired, but didn’t want to walk home alone. How long could it take to smoke pot? “Good luck,” I said. He assured me that he would be back quickly.

I watched them amble down to another room, enter it, and close the door. So there I stood.

Hud Millard was in the room at this point, and I saw some people I knew from my dorm, so I felt comfortable. At a party this large, it was easy to lose track of the people I knew, so I decided to stay where I was. Aimlessly, I walked around the room and found a place to sit in the crowd, on a sofa near the bar. Two of the brothers behind the bar acknowledged me with a greeting and seemed to be checking me out. They looked identical in their rumpled preppy threads and puffed-out-chest bravado. I had zero interest, but I was bored and didn’t want to seem rude. They seemed harmless.

“You waiting on a friend?” asked one.

“Yes … it’s time for me to go home. He’s in the back, smoking with some of your brothers.”

“Well, cool. We made some punch. It’s called the ‘house special.’ Would you like one?”

I hesitated. I still had the second beer on the floor next to me and didn’t want to drink more. I was anxious to get home. But I didn’t want to seem like a loser, either. I figured one more drink couldn’t hurt. One of the men put a pale green drink in a small, clear plastic tumbler on the counter and pointed at it, gesturing for me to take it. I sipped at it. It was very tart, yet sweet and tasted citrusy, like lime candy. My other friends were coming and going, and I sat down again and chatted with some people who looked familiar. What happened from there is a blur, but I remember some of the events in clear resolution, as if it were a motion picture. The mystery cocktail began to affect me suddenly: I began to feel lightheaded, nauseated, and dizzy. I was sitting in the common area trying to keep it together, but the drink had taken its hold and I was blacking out, awake but unaware or unable to remember what was going on. I lost track of time and I was scared. I remember talking with Hud, and I became aware of a very tall, owlish young man trying to insinuate himself into the conversation with chuckles and brief remarks. He had a large head, dark hair, and eyeglasses, which lent him a studious but slightly sinister look. He was staring at me and began slowly inching his way closer. No one was paying that much attention to him. Soon, Hud excused himself and this odd man began talking to me in earnest.

“Hi, I’m Will. What’s your name?”

“Liz,” I said. I was scanning the room, deliberately looking disinterested. I was foggy and I really had no interest in this stranger. There was a weird vibe about him. I felt like Alice in Wonderland. Everything was in slow motion.

“Are you a first year?”

“Yes.”

“First time at Phi Psi? I’m a brother here. I’m a second year English major.”

“That’s great.” Of course, I wanted to be an English major as well—a shared interest—but I didn’t feel like engaging with him.

He said he wanted to show me something. I was not interested. At this point, Hud returned and was visibly intoxicated, or perhaps under the influence of drugs. I was alarmed that in such a short time he had become so obviously impaired. Had he had the green drink, too? He was a responsible man and this did not seem at all characteristic. Another brother came and dragged him into a room, the room where I had put my Bermuda bag for safekeeping earlier. The brother stepped outside of the room, turned, and padlocked the door from the outside. How would Hud get out? Why would someone lock their friend inside a room? Nothing made sense, and I was getting nervous. The room was getting blurry and my limbs were not moving

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