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She woke up with that feeling when one wants to vomit after a night of drunken extravaganza. Her feet felt cold as she dragged herself to the bathroom. Slowly lifting herself till she was in line with the pot. Her arms still aching but not even in close contention to her sides, she puked out a cocktail of alcohol, food, blood and a part of her soul.

In a night that had involved meeting this ravishing looking fella, that had led to drinks and debauchery, this moment was nowhere part of the picture. But as she turned to wipe her face, she could not help but notice her hands covered in red. Where did the blood come from, she wondered?

A slight push of strength and now she was on her knees. Another push and she got herself in front of this full-length mirror. Her face looked as if a truck had rammed it. A vision of the previous night flashed by and all she could think about was the list of drinks she had had. Not a single moment that recalled how she got where she was. Bloody and bruised.

She slowly crawled back into the room, dragging her left leg which seemed to be broken. It surprised her how she did not feel the pain a few minutes back, but now it had reached a level beyond imaginable. She used the edge of the bed to lift her self and with all the remaining upper body strength she finally managed to get onto the mattress.

She lay there for what seemed an eternity, still trying to recollect her surroundings. The blood still dripping and a strange sense of calmness blanketed over her mind as she still couldn't recall a single memory of where she was and what had happened to her.

Just then, the phone rang and a man's voice said, "Hope you love your birthday present."