96 Little Red Demons and 2 Good Friends

by UrVauDonVehNa-Hath

I have used dextrahydramethorphane before through a couple different medicines...but none would beat this trail.

It started out like any other day would. Waking up freshly sober and wondering how to inebriate ourselves with a limited amount of money and/or no connection.....When it dawned on me how long its been since I was last granted a taste of that sweet, red, candy-like pill, Coricidin.

Ok, well, Riggs and I scrounged up enough money for 6 boxes and my sis drove us to the store to get our hands on some of those monochromatic Skittles. Oh yeah, and some batteries for my stereo, of course.

So when we got back, we both took 2 boxes right away. I don’t know why, but I do enjoy puting a handfull of pills in my mouth and gulping them down in a couple swallows (shrug). After we felt them kicking in, we proceeded to gather the stereo, the music, the smokes, and a litter of pop to down the other pills and head to the woods.

We had a pretty cool spot out there, a very thick fallin tree about 6 feet off the ground was our seat and table, and a bald spot down in front of us where we have a fire...but we didn’t build one this time....that would have been cool, come to think of it. Anyway, we sit and enjoy the scene for a while, listening to the trees and bullshiting. After a few minutes of feeling the opening of the buzz, Riggs starts complaining about how he feels like throwing up, and keeps mentioning it, and I feel fine and tell him to just do it. But he keeps holding his stomach looking at the ground. Then out of nowhere, I prop myself up against the trunk and the stump and start “calling out to the dinosaurs”. Nasty white foam driping from my mouth and burning my throat because I ate nothing that day didn’t seem to bother me because I was too fucked up to care. I even started laughing. Smiling as digested pill and stomach acid slung from my lips. I felt good anyway. By the time I was about finished, my good friend started yaking as well.

We cleaned ourselves up and decided it was time for the third box. That’s 48 Coricidin- Cough and Cold pills each (by the way, neither one of us puked again throughout the trip). Now, I vaguely remember droping a single pill because my hands were jerky and numb, but I couldn’t see where it landed.

(as I take a sip of water and type this line, I can vividly feel the stomach-turning taste of the red Coricidin coating in my mouth)

Proceeding the little pill picnic was music. I slapped in a tape of Deicide and cranked it up so we could roam around a bit. Get a feel for our lightweightedness. It was very difficult but cool to walk along the tree, about 10 feet long, and jump down. I recomend jumping off of something while on DXM :-) .

Ok, by this time, we are tripping hard, pretty fucking hard. We ventured out our own separate ways, but not too far from the spot. And let me say this: Being out in the middle of the woods, trippin on any drug with death metal playing in the background is an expeiriance that I will charish forever. This was a nice addition to my little box of memories, subjectively speaking.

I ended up meeting him at this swampy little pond where we then deeply conversated about how much the world sucks and how ignorant people are and that they are all mindless drones to a society that produces and processes them like chicken eegs. After a while we stared in silence at the pond, and went off in our own heads. After a time, tears came pooring down my cheeks. My face was emotionless in a stoic way, this is strange, but I don’t know why I was crying. He even asked me, and I couldn’t come up with an answere. I don’t even know what I was thinking about.

Anyway, some time pasted and we began to wonder what time it was. Then, how long have we been out here? Then, has it been a whole day and night? Is it tomorrow already?

We were frying at this point!

So with the possible guilt that my sister may be worried about me and my friend, I decided we should start to head back.

Back at the spot. “Hey! Look! A pill! Is that yours or mine?” Riggs replies, “I don’t know man take it.” I pick the lonely pill from the ground, clean it off with my shirt and humbly swallow it.

As we were walking back to the house, I was decieved that bats were flying about in the trees and swooping down at us. No joke. It was kinda like in “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas”. I was the tall, skinny, Johnny Depp, slinging my arms at the bats and Riggs was the husky, Del Toro, totally oblivious of the situation. Before we got to the creek, there is this little steep hill that you have to walk up before you get across. Riggs was having the most difficult time doing this, his foot kept slipping and he’d slide down to try all over again. Each time that he reached the bottom, he looked back towards where we came from and eventually said that the trees were calling for him and pulling him back and he wanted to go back. But I ended up helping him defeat the hill and we continued on.

Once we came out of the thick, darkness of the trees and into my bare-open yard, I knew what Riggs was talking about back there. I felt naked and deprived of my being, unsheltered from lifes trivia. I didn’t like that. But none the less, I was still fucked up and felt good anyway. In fact we both were so fucked up...........that once we got middway from the woods to the trailor, I noticed my sisters boyfreind, lets say “Jack”, talking to a lady exiting the door. I stoped Riggs and thought we could just rest for a sec and take a breather until our path is clear and the stranger is gone. I sat the stereo down and leaned over for a sec.............next thing I know, the lady had already gotten in her car and left. And Jack was standing in the doorway looking at me weirdly, saying something and makeing a hand jesture of an OK sign to his lips. It took me a couple secs, then realized he said “What, too much weed?”. Of course, even though I would have been fine anyway, I shook my head and said no, he walked into the house. No biggy. I look over to my side and Riggs is nealed down staring at the ground. I pat his shoulder and he slowly looks up and says “What?”

In the House. I realize we have only been gone for 4 - 5 hours, big surprise. We end up laying in my room for a while listening to some Slayer, then to nothing. I pasted out for a few hours, night fell, and when I woke up, Riggs was still laying on the floor and said he was watching the spiders dance around my room. Not real looking spiders, but lots of big, ghostly ones concieved of smoke, almost angelic. And we stared at the celling.

We were still fucked up and decided to go watch some tv. My hearing was extremely well for some reason. The clicking sound of my bare feet sticking and unsticking to the tile floor was kind of annoying. And when I swallowed, I could perfectly hear my saliva move from my mouth to down my throat.

In the living room, my sister and “Jack” sit there watching......I don’t know. I could see not one, but two screens. But none the less, we sat down and looked at it for quite a while anyway. I just sat and enjoyed the rest of my trip while pretending to know what the hell I was doing. (I hate tv anyway).

Well, that trip lasted all day long up to when I crashed.

I woke up the next morning. Relaxed. Comfertable. Felt good. And I said to myself yesterday was a good day. I want to do it again.