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<div Class="text-justify">Christmas is a time when family and friends come together to celebrate the birth of Christ. It is a time for joy, peace, and goodwill to humankind.

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This is what we are brought up to believe, right? And, for the most part, those who are Christian, celebrate with the Nativity, greeting cards, Christmas carols, church services, prayer, the exchange of gifts, and shared merriment with those nearest and dearest to them. It's a special time.

One of the quintessential celebrations of the year is *the Christmas Office Party*. You know, those obligatory events held to celebrate and see the year off with a bang?

Some are lavish, sit-down, cultured affairs and others are laid-back events conducted in pubs and/or nightclubs. Wherever they take place, you can be sure that there will be stories to be told, that *should* have remained at the party. These parties do tend to be synonymous with all kinds of *crazy*. 

A number of years ago... I was at one such party. 

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December... sometime in the late 1990s...

>### So this year our work Christmas Party is at the guest house in Pietermaritzburg where I have been staying during the commissioning of my current project...

my fiancé, Brett, (now *husband*) said... matter of factly.

>### They are asking us to confirm early if we would like to book a room for the night and stay over. 

Of course, I was up for that! The invite was appealing. A reputable establishment - canapes and drinks on the lawn on arrival, a nice meal afterward to celebrate with his colleagues, and no need to worry about *drink driving*. We could relax and have a wonderful time.  

>## Let's do it!

I exclaimed. 

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The day of the party arrived and we pulled up at the venue in the middle of nowhere. It had beautifully manicured lawns and an enclosed pool area.  We arrived ahead of most of the guests since we wanted to check in, get our overnight bags stashed away in our room, and be in a position to relax outside with a few of the other early arrivals. The late afternoon sunshine felt warm and inviting on my shoulders as we made our way towards the front door, and I knew my choice of the little black sleeveless dress had been the right one for the occasion. 

Our host was kind and hospitable. She gave us a tour of her home before escorting us upstairs to the bedroom wing so that we could settle in. 

The interior was decorated in a comfortable country cottage style and she had a clear penchant for porcelain dolls in lace vintage clothing. She was a self-professed collector and had taken great care to display them in select positions and settings around her home. Some adorned shelves on walls while others had more prominent positions. The meticulous attention to detail that one might expect from a display of fine art, was evident. Her dolls were incredibly beautiful and life-like, down to the shape of their faces, skin tone, hair, crease lines, mouths, and gorgeous lashes adorning their twinkling eyes. They were unique pieces and she had paid a small fortune for them. 

Our host ran the guest house with her daughter and they employed additional staff to run the drinks bar. I don't recall exactly what I was drinking that day but I suspect that it was either a Spiced Gold and Coke or a Vodka Lime and Soda. Whichever it was, it would have been a single tot, as I never overindulged at work functions. We would likely have switched to red wine for our evening meal.

I remember chatting in a small group of four out on the grass when my fiancé's boss and a senior manager from Head Office joined us. The conversation continued for a short while and the senior exec then took his leave before returning to our group a short while later. In his hands, he sported at least a dozen tot glasses brimming with a delightful array of liqueur shots. The sunlight glinted off the silver rim of the serving tray as he handed them out, offered a toast, and cajoled everyone to *down* them. 

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I looked up and found myself staring into Brett's eyes. Our arms were wrapped around each other and we were standing alone toward the edge of the garden, under a wooden trellised archway. Our bodies swayed in unison. I remember feeling the coolness of the evening breeze settling on my skin and noticing that the light was fading fast. I was confused. Something was oddly out of place and it felt more than a little disconcerting.

>## Um... babe...what's going on? What happened?

I ventured tentatively, as I gazed into his eyes. 

>### I don't know,

he replied softly. 

>### I only became aware of where we were a short while ago. I've just been holding onto you and waiting for you...

I could not understand where the time had gone and it was starting to freak me out!

>## Waiting for me?... Where is everyone?... How did it get so dark?... What are we doing over *here*?


Brett looked at me blankly and replied. 

>### I don't know. Something weird *is* definitely going on, but they are calling everyone for dinner now and we really should go inside before we are missed. 

I paused to take a breath... 
>## The last thing I remember is having that shot... and the sun was shining... and...

my brain was desperately trying to pull together the disparate and disjointed pieces from the afternoon. But everything past that shot of liqueur drew a blank. No matter how hard I tried, the veil was impenetrable. My brain was warring, playing hide-and-seek with my fragmented memories, and I did not like it at all. 

>### Come, let's just go inside and get something to eat. Hopefully, then we will feel a bit better and we can work it all out.

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Brett took me by the hand and led me across the lawn and into the dining area. Ironically we were the last to arrive for dinner. The party was already in full swing. Most guests were already seated, and some had already ventured to the buffet.  

We sat down at the only seats available at a table for four in the corner of the room. We could see that two of the seats were already taken; coats adorning the chairs and a ladies' evening handbag draped over one of the corners, laid claim to them. We sat on opposite sides of a small round table and stared blankly across at each other, over bundles of crumpled crepe paper, amidst the soft ambiance of glowing candles. They say that candles have a calming effect on the brain, while also being a trigger to stimulate memories. These were doing neither for either of us. There was no part of me that felt at peace. A few plastic trinkets and cracker jokes littered the red and green tartan tablecloths. They were a stark reminder that we had somehow *lost* a chunk of time and now needed to unravel the past and catch up to the present. 

Within a few minutes, the other couple, unknown to either of us, had joined us at the table, their plates of food stacked high. They looked at me rather oddly and asked if I would like to swap seats with them. I declined politely saying that it was perfectly fine and that I was comfortable enough where I was. They sat down, muttering something under their breath. Then they picked at their food while continuing to stare intently in my direction. 

A movement to my left caught my eye. I diverted my attention away from the decor and the new people at the table, and over to a small baby carriage. I remember thinking that the *porcelain doll* wrapped up inside was possibly the best example in the house. I marvelled at its life-like features. Its face - angelic - so peaceful - the carriage providing a perfect setting and accompaniment for its display. But something strange was happening. The porcelain doll appeared to come to life before my eyes, leaving me mesmerised. It shifted its head gently from side to side and moved its little arms in the air. The experience was quite surreal. 

I turned to Brett and our newly acquainted companions. Quite animated, I started describing the doll's features and behaviour and pondering aloud on the mechanics that were being employed to create its lifelike movements. 

The couple looked horrified.

Brett spoke first.

>### Love, that's not a doll. It's a baby. It's their baby...

... he paused and nodded towards the other couple. 

At that moment, I swung my gaze back in shock to look again upon the porcelain doll. Reality took a firm grip on my mind. I could see very clearly, a bouncing baby boy... a very human baby boy... one rather eager for his mom's attention. I was mortified.


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>## I need to eat something! 

I mumbled, averting my eyes and sliding out of my seat, before stumbling blindly towards the buffet table, my dignity in tatters leaving a trail of minor destruction in my wake. I slapped my cheeks between the palms of my hands.

>## Get it together, Sam!

I berated myself. I had so clearly seen a porcelain doll where there now lay a beautiful child. I felt like I was losing my mind. I no longer knew what was real and what was a mere illusion. Perhaps if I got some food into my stomach I might start to feel ok again. I might just regain some of my sanity.

I found myself at the buffet table, picked up a plate and serving tongs, and turned to dish up... but then stopped dead in my tracks. The entire table had turned into a rainbow-esque version of Van Gogh's Starry Night... a swirling mix of colour met my eyes. Each bowl of food became indistinct from the next. There was no way that I could differentiate between vegetarian and meat, what I liked and didn't or even what was edible and what was not. I slinked away and went back to my seat. 

>### What's up? No food?

Brett enquired staring at my empty plate and pristine cutlery.

>## It's just a sea of colour... 

I said staring at my feet. He understood. He leaped to his feet, leaned over, took my plate from me, and said

>### Don't worry love, I'll get you something... be right back!

A few minutes later, true to his word, he returned baring gifts of food on a plate.

>### You were right!

He said...

>### It *was* just a sea of colour!

I was perplexed. How the heck did he know what to get? I asked the question.

>### Oh... I just took some of each colour...

With that, we both bust up laughing.

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I ate about quarter of the food on my plate and then had to stop... my stomach was in agony, my head was spinning, and I felt incredibly ill. I wanted to throw up. I excused myself from the table and Brett followed me up to the room to ensure that I got there safely. Then he said he was just going to let everyone know where we were and that he would be back shortly. I proceeded to spend *most* of the night racing to the bathroom, sweating profusely, spinning in all directions, and feeling worse than I have ever felt in my life. At one point I was convinced I was near the end... and actually considered inviting death in, I felt so bad.

Brett returned *hours* later... I could not believe he had abandoned me for so long. I was hurt and angry... He couldn't understand my annoyance. Turns out he had only left the room for about fifteen minutes to go and make our apologies for the swift exit to the party. He explained that he believed that someone had spiked our drinks. He had no intention of leaving me alone for longer than necessary. 


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The next morning finally arrived and other than a mild headache, we both felt relatively ok. Complaints had already been made by another couple who had been spiked and had also spent their evening in all kinds of discomfort.

We later heard that the host was appalled at the behaviour of some of the guests after the party and refused to be involved with the company again. Some employees had ended up naked in the pool. Used condoms were discovered in the bushes and the guest house had received complaints from overnight guests about a disturbance of the peace.

Although we couldn't prove it, we were and remain convinced that the exec from Johannesburg was the culprit behind the night's shenanigans. After making some inquiries and conducting our own research, we came to the conclusion that we were likely spiked with LSD as all the symptoms tied up, and *friends*, who had *voluntarily* encountered the drug in the past, were able to attest to our experience on the night. 

Although there exists a certain kind of beauty in the surreal, I shall never knowingly or willingly sacrifice my peace of mind for a mindless flight of fancy. Losing control of perception and reality may be of interest to some, but I am quite satisfied with having a firm grip on the wheel of life, and remaining focused on what is truly important in the celebration of Christmas. 

Needless to say, that was the last time we attended a Work Christmas party with that company.</div>

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This post is in response to The Ink Well's Creative Non-Fiction prompt *peace* and the dreem-wotw season 1 finale using prompts: time, blank, and illusion.












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