Worst Decision of My Life

It was back in March of 2010. My senior year of high school was coming to a close. Everyone was in anticipation for Graduation and the school year to come to an end. My parents had been planning a trip to Florida for quite some time now and I couldn’t wait for them to leave. I decided to plan a party for Friday night even though my parents had specifically told me not to have a bunch of people over.
I could hardly sleep Thursday night because I was so excited for what the following night might have in store. Up until Friday, I had only told my closest friends about the party so that the whole school doesn’t show up at my house. As Friday went on I continued to tell more people and word spread like a wild fire on a dry, hot day. I was almost tempted to throw off the party because by the end of the school day it seemed like everyone had heard about it. I decided to throw the party anyway because it was nearing the end of the school year and we had to go out with a bash.
People started showing up at my house around 8:00. Everything was going smoothly until about 10:00, when what seemed to be fifty kids showed up from my high school within a ten minute span. I knew it was going to be a problem but since I was already a little buzzed, I let them all come in. My street was full of cars parked all the way up and down the road.
In the basement the music was blaring and everyone was dancing having a good time. There were beer cans littered everywhere with the trash can overflowing with cans, bottles, and red solo cups. There was a distinct strong smell of sweat mixed with the spilt beer all over the ping pong table and floor. As you would walk across the basement floor, you could feel the soles of your shoes sticking to the ground from all the spillage. As you walk out into the garage, there are cigarette butts scattered throughout, with a dense cloud of smoke that filled the air. I had to keep the garage closed so that the neighbors couldn’t see what was going on.
At one point around midnight, things took a turn for the worse. People started getting out of control. All of us where underage, and could barely handle our liquor. It all started when someone began projectile vomiting all over the basement couch. All I could think at that point was that my parents are going to kill me. Just moments after that, someone tripped down the stairs and put a massive hole in the wall. The hole was so big that I you could fit a fridge through it. At that point I was fed up and started directing people out.
When I thought it was all finally over, as I was telling people to leave, a fight broke out. To this day, I still have no idea what started the fight. The fight moved outside to the front yard to my dismay. The neighbors heard the commotion and came outside and immediately called the cops. When the cops showed up, pretty much everyone was gone except a few of my friends who were staying the night and the kid who got beat up. After the cop talked to the boy who got in the fight, he came up to my house and knocked on the door. My heart was racing as I answered the door, knowing that there were consequences to come.
Luckily, I didn’t get into any trouble with the law, but in no way could I avoid having to make that call to my parents who were trying to have a good time on vacation. It was almost two in the morning when I called and as soon as my dad answered he knew something was wrong. I had to explain to him why I was calling him and why the police were at my house.