Crossing the Threshold

I remember the first time I wanted to try alcohol. I was thirteen years old, and up until that point, alcohol was a forbidden, amorphous substance. My parents weren’t really drinkers, and would only occasionally (to my knowledge), partake in a night cap. We had a nicely stocked bar with the essentials: red wine, gin, vodka, scotch. Most bottles were gifted, and some, like an ancient bottle of Cristal, sat collecting dust like old relics, high up on a shelf above our refrigerator.

I don’t remember exactly what my compulsion was to try it. I had heard more experienced classmates talk about drinking, but it was less about the liquid itself and more like a secret club that you could join with just one sip. I was a curious child. I felt the pull of adulthood not far away, and I wanted a sip. I wanted to be a part of the secret club, and if a sip was all it took, then what was the harm?

It is universally known that secret clubs are no fun when you are the sole member, so I enlisted my two best friends and we hatched a plan. My parents had recently left a small collection of mini bottles on top of the refrigerator. Being a thirteen year old girl, I had an affinity for all things mini, so it felt only right that these would be the vessels through which we would enter the void.

Vodka seemed best, because it was clear, and would pose the least amount of spill potential. Plus mini bottles were portable, easily hidden in a backpack or a large pocket. We could hide them in the back of the refrigerator when we were done, and there would be no trace that anything nefarious had occurred.

The plan was set. The date was scheduled. I called my constituents and we gathered in my room and pretended to act like normal pre-teens. I can’t remember if we ever asked each other why we had to try it. We weren’t party animals or rebels. We were a selective group that preferred to read books and pass notes and daydream. I suppose we all felt it was the next logical step in our development as humans. We were still immersed in our innocence, yet felt invisible strings pulling us toward something we couldn’t fully comprehend.

My parents left the house at 8pm. My sister was out of town for the weekend. As soon as the coast was clear, I grabbed a step stool and reached for the forbidden elixir. We figured it was too…

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