My parents had just left, and I could feel the pills taking effect. My fingers started tingling, and when I looked down at them, I could see that they were twitching. When I tried to make them stop, I started laughing because I couldn’t. The tingling moved from my fingers and up my arms. I burst into hysterical laughter when my chest also began to tingle.
The chair I sat in had a wool overthrow that scratched at my arms and made me itch like crazy. I had to get up. When I stood, though, I found that the carpet had gotten a lot softer; sinking a little with each step I took. The carpet had turned into quicksand. The carpet wanted to eat my feet. This was ridiculous; all my furniture had turned against me.
I had to go to the kitchen; the floor didn’t have carpet there. On my journey to the kitchen, my colors started getting confused. Well, I guess you could say that they changed from the color I could remember. My usually tan carpet had turned into a deep purple. The white walls turned into a bright yellow that started hurting my eyes. It was like looking into the sun. Then, I finally made it to the kitchen.
When I opened my refrigerator, I found something that didn’t quite belong. Two miniature mountain climbers were scaling the shelves of my fridge. One was standing on the shelf reaching down to the other one, helping him up. They even had miniature gear, miniature grappling hooks and miniature carabineers. All I could do was stare at them. What else could I do? Staring, it seemed, was also the only thing that they could do, because they just stared right back at me. I finally thought of something intelligent to say.
“What are you doing?”
The two miniature mountain climbers looked at each other for a second. Then, the one that was reaching up said, “Looking for some bread.”
“Oh,” I automatically reached out to the top shelf, got a slice of bread out of the bag and handed it to the climbers. I grabbed the carton of orange juice and closed the refrigerator door. Poor guys. Did they have to do that every time they wanted bread? We should move our bread to a lower shelf. I reached into our cabinet and pulled out a glass.
Then, I started pouring myself some juice, except the orange juice was blue juice, tasted like orange juice, but blue. It was the best blue orange juice I had ever had. I actually felt like I was drinking a freshly liquefied orange. The slightly acidic, slightly sweet, amazing flavor exploded and filled my entire mouth. The pulp swished around in my mouth and tickled my throat as I swallowed. I drank the last half of the carton.
After I had satisfied my thirst, I went to go sit down on my couch. As I sat down, I immediately noticed that a light pink cloud had replaced my couch. It was so puffy and soft, holding me safely and gently. I looked down at my floor, which was now at least a thousand feet below me. My safe little cloud had carried me up above everything. Carried me safely away from everything. I lay down and hugged my beloved cloud.
My dog flew over to me, flapping its wings that were extending from her back. When she flew, she moved her feet as if walking on the air. Reaching out to her, I placed my hand on her head. Her fur was by far the smoothest, softest thing I had ever felt in my life. I stroked her again and again, and loved her for being so soft. She had the power to sooth me. In this moment I felt like I could pet her forever. Then I realized something; I take her for granted. She’s always here so why don’t I always pet her? I really don’t spend that much time with her. She deserved my attention. Just as I was about to vow to spend more time with her, something moved in my pants.
That something was just beneath my left pocket and I could hear it buzzing angrily and moving extremely fast. I tried to hit it but it moved against my hand, I began to panic. I quickly unbuttoned my pants. Then instinctively stood up, forgetting that my cloud had taken me up and I falling foreword. Luckily, my cloud anticipated my fall and brought me back down, reducing the fall to about two feet. I scrambled on the floor kicking and thrashing to get my pants off. Buzzing could be heard from my pants all the while. I finally got my pants down to my ankles and kicked them off.
Finally, with my pants a safe distance away, I realized that whatever had been buzzing was actually in my pocket. I could hear it trying to escape. I cautiously crawled to my pants and lifted the pocket flap. When I peered in all I could see was my cell phone vibrating. I reached into my pocket and pulled it out. It still vibrated and squirmed, trying to escape my grasp as I flipped it open.
“Hello?”
“Hey dude, what are you up to?” My phone asked.
“I’m currently kneeling next to my pants in my living room talking on the phone to you. Who is this may I ask?”
“How can you kneel next to your pants? Aren’t you wearing them?”
“No, I took them off.”
“Why?”
“I thought my phone was alive and trying to escape from my pants. So, I took them off.”
“Dude, you are trippin’. I’m gunna come pick you up. Then, we’ll go over to Mike’s.”
I tried to tell him not to come, but he hung up before I could. I tried to call him back, but when I looked down at my phone all of the numbers and labels for the buttons were gone and the screen was blank. I put my pants back on and put my phone back in my pocket.
I really didn’t want to go over to Mike’s. I hated Mike’s. I hated Mike’s because Mike’s reminded me of the future. Mike’s dad also did drugs, so he didn’t care if we did them. There was basically nothing at Mike’s. Every time I walked in their house there was a few seconds where I convinced myself that they had just moved in. There were no pictures on the walls. No decorations. No little bowls of potpourri. It was hell. That place could never be someone’s home. It could only be someone’s house. And that’s what Mike’s was.
My doorbell rang. My friend that I talked to on the phone stood on the other side of the door. I wanted to convince him to just hang out here or leave me. I didn’t though. It was that silly clown costume he was wearing, no one can say no to a clown. I told him that I would follow him though, because I had to be home soon.
I started unlocking my car, but had to stop. Looking to my friend I said, “Has my car always been green?” He only laughed at me though. “What?” I asked.
“Dude, your car is red,” then, he laughed again and got in his car. I looked at my car again. He was lying to me. My car was clearly green. I shrugged and got in. “Heavy Hearts Brigade” way playing on my radio; causing me to smile the whole time I drove. What an amazing song. If my dog died and I listened to that song, I would still smile.
We arrived at Mike’s house. As I got out of my car, I could feel my stomach twist into a knot as I anticipated the bland, unwelcoming atmosphere. The outside of the house prepared you for the inside. Dead plots of grass sprinkled their lawn. The grass that remained alive was blood red. The few bushes that were around were either dead or dying. The one window that overlooked this scene had no blinds. Instead, the traditional white curtains that had the cutout design that reminded me of a tablecloth hung just behind the window.
The sun was almost set as my friend knocked on the door. The door opened to reveal a dark and dap cave, complete with stalagmites and stalactites. The person that had opened the door was incredibly skinny. He didn’t quite wear his shirt. It was more draped over him. His skin was pale. His hair was greasy and too long. The skin on his face looked too tight. I also think that he had an incredibly bad case of pink eye. He hadn’t slept in about a week, judging by the bags under his eyes.
“Hey Mike!” my friend said.
“Hi, Mike, “ I said. Then, I walked in. The cave turned into a nearly empty living room. “Did you just move in?”
“What?”
“Never mind.” All the lights were turned out. The only light that was coming into the room was the deep orange glow from the setting sun creeping through the curtains. There were at least three other people there. Two sat on the couch watching the news, both laughing hysterically despite nothing funny happening. The third sat in a chair, head leaned straight back staring at the ceiling, not moving at all.
My stomach kept twisting more and more and my hands couldn’t stop shaking. I had walked into hell. All anti-drug ads warned you about this place. If you were here, you knew that you had hit bottom. I could’ve started crying if five of my friends hadn’t been standing around.
Immediately, I turned around and walked out of the house. Coming out of the house, the sunset lay right in front of me right in front of me. The swirl of purple, orange and green entranced me. It was so beautiful. I almost stood there and stared at this incredibly serine moment, but my friend came out of the house after me. I ran to my car, got in and started driving. I was going home.
The next song on my play list was “How it Ends”. As I drove, I thought of everyone that I was letting down. I could see their faces. Unemotional, they wanted to cry, but couldn’t because they knew that if they did, I would feel bad. They wanted to cry because of me. Knowing that; I would start to cry. They loved me so much, they held in their tears so I wouldn’t feel bad.
As I stopped at a stop sign, I noticed a playground on my left. Three little boys, about ten, ran around chasing each other, each of them smiling, all entirely happy. I would list some clichés about being happy, but I can’t think of any. What were they to become? I’ll bet their parents hugged them, and tucked them in at night as they said “I love you.” Mine did.
I realized in that instant, watching those little kids, that I had failed as a son. What was I doing? I had everything I wanted; parents that loved me, other friends that could be there for me. I had a home. I flipped open my phone and dialed my mom’s number. I wanted to tell her that I loved her and that I always would. I wanted to tell her that I was coming home and that I would meet her there. Then, she picked up.
“Hello?”
“Mom-“ That’s all I could manage before another car hit mine. He hit the driver’s side. My side. The window next to burst into a deadly rain of broken glass. The sound of colliding metal and screeching tires filled the air.
I had been confusing color all day. I ran a red light and unknowingly rushed into the intersection. That was all. I didn’t even get to tell my mom that I loved her.