Okay guys, sex and drugs abounds. If it offends you, just read the last two or three paragraphs to know what is going on. There's nothing graphic or vulgar, but lots of suggestive material. Also, this chapter isn't a commentary on any opinions on drug use. It is just based on the accounts of acquaintances who have tripped- I've never done any drugs at all, so I had to rely on what I've read and heard. Nevertheless, please let me know what you think! Enjoy!
By some miracle, his jacket and shirt came off. Even without the garments, Eric felt very warm. He looked up into the eyes of the girl on top of him (they had fallen back onto the couch, Eric on his back, her chest on his) and noticed just how insanely dilated her pupils were. What he didn't realize was just how dilated his own eyes were becoming.
He could feel himself slipping into a state that was totally unfamiliar to him. Instead of panicking, he felt completely relaxed about the whole thing, and welcomed the new sensation. His hands and feet were tingling, and it felt like this new feeling was slowly washing over him, until his legs were totally submerged, then his torso, his arms, and finally his head. And he was tripping.
It had taken several minutes for the drugs to take effect, and Chelsea had expertly timed the whole thing so that their clothes were just coming off as the drugs were just kicking in.
She sat up a little bit and he followed, helping her get her top off. Chelsea's paisley blouse seemed to unravel- the colors were blurring outside of the lines the shirt imposed, and her hair seemed to meld with the florescent lights above and behind her head, like a halo. And suddenly, the colors, and the shirt, were gone. She had taken it off while he was distracted. Her black bra certainly caught his attention, but it wasn't exactly the swirling lights or colors that did it.
The teen felt that time had either stopped, or was somehow going backward- whatever the case, it couldn't possibly be moving forward.
This was a better sensation than anything he'd ever felt. It was physical and emotional. Not bliss, not ecstasy….pure euphoria.
Her lips were doing something wonderful to his jaw, and he decided to retaliate by giving her collarbone the same treatment. Chelsea definitely liked it, because she pushed him forward again, reaching behind her to get off her bra.
In between these little increments came sensations of color and sound and feeling in various forms. He moods swung like a metronome on its fastest frequency, but he never got physically tired; that being said, Eric's mind did swing from drowsy to alert, though at a much slower pace than his emotions.
Eric felt his partner undoing the buckle on his belt, and tugging it off of his pants even while he was lying down. She wasn't wearing a belt, so he had the advantage in this little race. Next thing he knew, they were both stripped down only to their underwear. At some point, they both took another pill, and continued their activity.
How much time had passed? Five minutes? Five years? There was no clock in the little changing room, though Eric most likely would have visualized it melting off the wall anyway.
After that, it was all about sensation. He wasn't sure how much time they actually spent "doing it," but he was sure that he could actually feel the muffled music blaring from the party, several rooms down. He was sure that Chelsea was soft, and that his body was on fire- in a good way.
This went on for a long time; intervals of blissful rest, making out, and more euphoria.
….
After an hour and a half was expended at this party, Aaron and Joy wandered back over to where Ritch and Valerie were hanging out.
"Hey, how long has Eric been gone?" Aaron asked.
Ritch glanced at his watch, "I'd say…bout an hour."
Aaron smiled, but Valerie wasn't so sure. "Don't you think someone should at least find out where he went?"
"Babe, I'm sure he's fine," Ritch said.
"More than fine, I'd wager," Aaron snarked, which earned a snicker from Ritch. Both girls smacked their partners lightly on the chest.
"He's seventeen," Valerie reminded her husband.
"Yeah, remember all the stuff you and I were doing at seventeen?"
"You two sound like an old married couple," Joy interrupted. "You're both under thirty. But I do think someone should at least check to see where he is."
"If you wanna go walking in on him when he's with a girl, you go ahead," Aaron said, unconvinced.
Valerie looked at the doorway that Eric passed through with that groupie, and saw a sullen looking guy, clearly on something, standing near the entrance.
"Excuse me," she practically had to shout over the music as she approached the man. "Did you see a young man go through here with a pretty girl?"
The guy smirked. "Every seven minutes."
"Okay," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose, trying to think of what Eric and Chelsea had been wearing. "She's short, about my height, with blonde hair, and she had a paisley shirt. He has hair brown hair, sort of long and parted. It goes over one eyebrow…like a grown out bowl cut."
The guy thought for a minute, then nodded. "They went that way," he gestured down the hall. "Probably five or six rooms down."
"Thank you," she smiled, then returned to her little group. "Now we have a general idea of where he is, should something happen."
….
Eric laid on the couch with Chelsea in his arms, both of them staring into space. They were taking a break from their relations to simply ride their trips and enjoy their time together. The lights above Eric spiraled and danced. Chelsea traced a little pattern along his chest with her fingers, and even though she hardly put a thought into the action, it felt amazing to him.
While the drugs he'd taken in the past always began with a pleasant sensation and slowly wore off as he came down, this one seemed to only build and build, as though the high he felt were just getting more and more powerful. Chelsea took one more pill and handed another to him, which he took readily, never wanting this feeling to end. When the two young people went back at it once again, the high seemed to explode and hit him harder than it had any time before. Eric felt so powerful, almost enlightened. This was even more amazing than it had been ten minutes before. There was no way that he could be filled with even another ounce of happiness and sensation. Colors flashed and danced, every touch was electric. This was rhapsody he'd never experienced before.
This time, as they finished up, he sat back to try and look at the lights again, only to jerk back in fear.
The scar along his forearm from his mugging seemed to open up, blood spilling out of it.
Staggering off the couch, Eric clutched his hand to his arm to stop the bleeding. He whipped his head around, looking for a sink to wash off the blood. For just a moment, the happiness went away. But as he looked down to assess the sudden damage his arm had mysteriously sustained, he blinked in surprise. The blood was gone, his scar was still all healed over.
Chelsea was blinking at him in confusion, asking what was wrong. He described what had happened, and she just shrugged.
"That happens sometimes," she said, coaxing him back onto the couch.
That happened sometimes? What did she mean? Did this drug (Eric still didn't comprehend that it was LSD) make one start and stop bleeding? No, impossible. There wasn't a speck of red in sight, now. He was just seeing things.
Assuming he had just been seeing things, Eric sat down again, only to be frightened when he saw that the lights on the ceiling seemed to spark and pop, like fireworks, and the muffled music became a roaring rush in his ears.
Not liking these new developments, Eric groped around for his pants, which looked to him as though they'd been melted, and pulled them on. They stayed on, so they weren't melted, he figured.
Chelsea wasn't feeling this same unpleasant sensation, and happily dressed. She pulled Eric in for a kiss, and for a moment he shifted his focus back to her, pulling her in against him where they stood.
She broke the embrace first with a smile, which he returned, and they finished putting all of their clothes back on.
When they were all ready, they unlocked the door to the locker room and returned to the hallway.
It had been two hours since they'd disappeared together, and the party was still in full swing. But Eric's mind translated the sounds at a volume greater than reality- so the music sounded louder than screams, and it hurt his ears. It also freaked him out.
Chelsea kissed him again, (though this time he hardly felt it) before smiling at him and wandering off into the room. He watched her go, then suddenly Aaron and Joy were in front of him, smiling and talking, though they sounded like they were under water. Eric shook his head, and clarity came back to him for a moment.
They didn't notice how distracted he was, and instead led him over to where Ritch and Val were standing. He heard them talking, and answered back articulately, but his eyes were trained on some sequins that had ended up on the ground- they seemed to be sparkling and dancing around….
Ritch noticed how Eric was watching the floor with such fascination, but at first he chocked it up to the teen being worn out after two hours of fooling around. Smiling slightly, he put his hand on Eric's shoulder and shook gently.
Once again alert, Eric lifted his eyes to meet his friend's. Ritch immediately noticed how large Eric's pupils were- it was impossible not to notice. Panic set in; while the older man was fairly liberal when it came to drug use, his experience taught him to be careful, and it was clear that Eric hadn't been careful at all.
"Jesus Christ," Ritch said in alarm. "What the hell did you take?"
Valerie and Aaron noticed next, then Joy. Not understanding their alarm, Eric shrugged.
"Just some more of what we've been having before. Those pills."
Aaron quickly grabbed his friend by the arm and inspected his face. "No way, man. You didn't have anything that mild. God, you're up there right now, aren't you?"
It was never good to be on such a powerful high and have no idea what it was that you originally took to get that high. It was dangerous. While his friends were fairly certain that Eric was tripping on acid, there was more than enough room for doubt and worry.
"At least he's coherent," Valerie supplied.
Joy turned Eric so that he was facing her. "Eric, you said you took pills, right? How many did you take?"
Eric shrugged."Two or three I guess." He was back to a happier place, and when he wasn't speaking or being spoken to, the teen was staring at the lights and colors that were blurring and blending in front of him.
"God," Aaron groaned again, then looked at Ritch. "We should get him out of here."
Ritch nodded. "Come on, Eric, we're gonna go."
Since he was currently very open to suggestion, Eric followed his friends out the door obediently. As they walked down the street, his friends kept a close watch on him. They didn't have to guide or carry him, but they were careful to ensure that he didn't wander off the sidewalk and in to traffic.
Once they were in the record store, Ritch locked the door while Aaron and the girls took Eric upstairs, into Ritch and Val's home, and sat their tripping friend down on the couch. They watched him stare into space, with no idea what he might be seeing.
"Well, he's calm, so there's nothing really to do but let him ride it out," Aaron said to Valerie, who nodded.
"He seems to be enjoying it well enough."
"That's what it's made for," Aaron stated the obvious, going into the kitchen to get some water. "I just can't believe he took more than one dose."
"He said he took two or three," Valerie said, peeking back in to their living room, where Joy was hanging out with Eric.
"He might have taken more," Ritch said, appearing from downstairs. "That's the only reason I'm worried. He could overdose. Otherwise he should be fine."
They all hung out in the living room, each drinking a soda or some water (there was no way alcohol was getting involved). The friends watched some television, occasionally asking Eric what he was seeing, or how he was feeling. By this point, the teen was completely coherent, but still feeling the full effects of the drug. He sat and watched TV, but instead of seeing the program that was on, he just heard colors and saw sounds. Or was it the other way around…?
Approximately three hours after the first pill had been taken, and twenty minutes since they'd returned to the apartment, things took a turn for the worse.
Joy was in the process of standing and walking to the kitchen to get more water when the walls of the room seemed to disappear in Eric's mind, replaced by nothing but a black abyss. It seemed that Joy was about to stroll into the oblivion, and this scared the Wisconsin teen immensely.
"Wait!" he said, speaking for the first time in ten minutes, and causing all four of his friends to whip their heads around to see what was wrong. Joy stopped in her tracks, not wanting to upset him. Eric tried to stand, but his arms and legs felt stretched and useless. Everything in the room suddenly returned to the same physical order it had been in before, but the colors changed; everything in the room, including his friends and his own body, seemed to be solarized, like they were in some pop art piece.
Finally getting himself into a standing position, Eric swayed, and Ritch and Aaron were immediately on either side of him, holding him steady. This should have been comforting, but it induced a crawling sensation up and down his arms, and Eric meekly tried to remove their hold on him.
"Hey, calm down Eric," Aaron said soothingly. Having experienced bad trips in the past, and having comforted friends on bad trips, he knew that it was important to keep the young man relaxed.
Eric was still trying to get their hands off his arms, so Aaron and Ritch guided him back to the sofa and sat him back down before releasing him.
It didn't work, because Eric simply saw the room tilt at an unrealistic angle. He had known since the start that his hallucinations were the results of the drug he'd ingested, but by this point, he wasn't sure anymore.
Valerie came in to his line of sight, and spoke softly but deliberately.
"Eric, you're on something. Whatever you're seeing is not real. If you try to enjoy yourself, it will be better."
"It's not real," Eric told himself, but he still wasn't convinced. When he tried to make eye contact with Valerie, her eyes turned red, which frightened him, and he attempted to stand up again.
"Give him room, don't freak him out," Ritch warned. "Don't want him to have a bad trip."
It was at that point that Eric was too far gone. No matter what they said or did, it would have little effect on what he saw and felt. His depth perception went haywire, and in one moment he thought he was fifty feet over the ground, in another he thought he was being pulled down through the floor.
The intensification of emotions was now a bad thing. Where happiness had been ecstasy, fear was now horror.
His friends' faces shifted and warped, and Eric tried to step away from them, only to stumble and fall backwards on the floor.
Hitting his head seemed to send his trip back to factory settings; he was suddenly feeling very happy again, and closed his eyes. Eric was unaware that Aaron and Ritch were on their knees next to him, making sure he didn't hurt himself in his fall. For just a moment, everything seemed to be okay.
Until he opened his eyes again.
The ceiling looked like it was cracking and crumbling. He had to get away before it could fall on him! Thrashing around against the two sets of arms that were pinning him down, Eric cried out. Still the ceiling crumbled, and still the arms pinned him down. It was then that the young Forman concluded that his friends must have been trying to keep him down so that the ceiling could fall and crush him. Never mind that it would spell their deaths as well- as long as he was taken care of.
He had to get away from these people. In desperation, Eric shot out of Ritch's grasp and stood, racing for the door that led back down into the record shop. Terrified that his friend would fall down the stairs and injure himself, Aaron tackled Eric before he could grab the knob, and pinned him back down.
The average trip could last a few hours, and since Eric took multiple doses, there was no telling how long he might be like this.
Ritch wanted to shout at Eric to calm down, but shouting would be disastrous. It was clear that Eric was in a paranoid state, and was most likely frightened of his friends. Still, they had to do something, since the situation was only escalating at this point.
"Babe, we have to take him to the hospital. He's going to hurt himself," Valerie said, her eyes misty as they watched their young friend flail under Aaron's grasp, his dilated eyes darting all over as they saw unreal dangers.
Truly, Eric was only getting more worked up, and started shouting incoherently. Ritch was now positive that Eric had taken at least three doses of the drug, possibly. And since one pill of a mild narcotic could cause the teen to sleep for half a day, there was no telling what three pills of this powerful substance could do. At best, Eric would continue this nightmare for several more hours, which could wreak havoc on his health. At worst, he could have a seizure or hurt himself, possibly overdose from whatever was in his system.
Aaron looked up from where he was holding Eric to make eye contact with Ritch. The fear the older man felt was reflected in the musician's eyes. They were conflicted about what the right thing was for Eric's safety.
However, the decision was made for them when Eric took advantage of Aaron's distraction and rolled him off of his chest, and jerked the door open, promptly tumbling down the first flight of stairs.
Joy cried out in fear as the two guys rushed down after their friend, who was still conscious (the first flight was only six or seven steps) and lying on the landing. He seemed fine, but was clearly still seeing something scary as his eyes were locked on something that wasn't there.
"Alright, we're going to the hospital," Ritch said, trying to hide his panic, lifting up the skinny teen in his arms effortlessly. "Someone go get the car."