I knew I shouldn't have gone to that stupid party ...

I was invited by my girlfriend, Alaina.  She thought it would be fun to dress in costume and have fun with other kids at the party, which was held, appropriately enough, at a house that was reputed to be haunted.

Sounded innocent enough ...

I dressed up as Groucho Marx.  Anything for a laugh.  I love Groucho Marx and the Marx brothers: nothing but pure comedic genius, even though they were way before my time.

Dad got me hooked on their stuff; he had a bunch of old videos lying around; I watched them one day, and was hooked.

Anyway, I went to Alaina's house to pick her up for our date, and we went to the haunted house about a mile up the road from where she lived.  A lot of the kids from school were there, but I hardly recognized any of them:  most were dressed up. 

There were witches/warlocks, ghosts, goblins, vampires, werewolves, Frankenstein (and other assorted) monsters, and so forth.  We were ready to get this place rockin'; maybe then we would scare some of the ghosts or hobgoblins there, I surmised.

For dinner/treats, there was candy by the bagful (I had never seen so much candy in my LIFE), games and contests, and music.  Monster music, appropriate for this occasion.  Yeah, we were ready to boogie down ...

For a while, all was going good.  Then stupid Parker Rosenblatt decided to have into a drinking contest.  A few others joined Parker.   Soon the beer and booze was flowing. 

It wasn't long before several of them got rip roaring drunk.  They started getting really loud and obnoxious, and then ... Parker fell over.

We thought he was faking it, but he didn't get up.  He was out like a light.  We thought he was fooling around, but then he vomited and started choking.  I quickly rolled Parker onto his side, and tried to shake him awake, shouting his name, but he didn't move.  He looked like he was dead and by now, his face was turning a frightening shade of purple.  He was still choking!

I tried pounding on his back and doing the Heimlich maneuver on him.  Parker didn't stir. 

I knew he was in trouble, so I called 9-1-1 for an ambulance.  By now the festive atmosphere of the party had long disappeared; we were all now concerned for Parker.  I looked at his chest; I didn't see it moving. 

Parker was NOT BREATHING!!!!

I don't really consider myself religious, but I started praying.  I was hoping he wouldn't die on us.  Talk about a party crasher ... he crashed all right.

I started doing mouth-to-mouth on Parker, praying desperately for him to start breathing again, and then he did the unthinkable: he puked ... right into my mouth.  

I nearly lost it myself, but I forced myself to keep breathing on my buddy, to get him going again.  The smell of regurgitated alcohol was heavy in my nostrils.  I was doing all I could to keep from getting sick as well.

It seemed like forever, but the paramedics finally arrived, knocking on the door and yelling.  I told Alaina answer it while I continued to work on Parker.  I was crying like a little baby.

~To be continued.~