The Terror #wattys2017 #TNTHorrorContest

Eight...Peaking

      Acid trip...I now understand what that means.  This isn't like getting stoned, this doesn't feel like that at all.  This is a bonified TRIP!  You are on a journey, a sojourn if you will, to the middle of yourself, but not just that, oh no there's way more to this than that.  There is this oneness with all things, like everything you perceive is somehow affected, or if not that, then you are effected by the universe that surrounds you.          This is heavy, another word that now has a different meaning, heavy, with weight. This is going to weigh on you Merril, you will take something with you from this trip.  That's the kat in the background observing, that guy who has enough control, enough sense to stand in the background, away from the flying objects, fears, wishes, loathing and shame. A complete and utter overwhelming gala of fantastic psychedelic emulsion that had become ME.

        The only thing I can equate this feeling with is wonder, the kind of wonder I knew as a 7-year-old child getting up in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve and staring at the magic that is Santa Clause, who has left piles of gifts under the magically lighted tree.  The total awe of it, that same ether of mystery and secret spirits. As if I were getting let in on the secret of existence, of what God IS.  IS...That's a big fucking word now, isn't it? What the hell is, IS?

        Dale somehow managed to park the Merc only a few yards away from the wash.  The wash flows through Big Tujunga Canyon year-round but during the summer, it becomes a river, nearly to your knees and it is fucking cold! It flows from the melting snow on the surrounding mountain tops. When the moon is full it glistens and glitters in the night, calming, whispering clear fresh water.  

        We pile out of the car and I am simply overwhelmed again, by the beauty and majesty of nature.  The babbling of the water, the scent of the forest, the moon so bright and crystal-clear hanging overhead, the man on the moon smiling down on us like some kind of ancient all-knowing thing.  Tears flow from my bloody eyes and the salty taste of them on my tongue is amazing.  Everything is amazing, how did I not notice how wonderful and glorious the world is.  

        Steve steps up beside me, he has a joint going.

        "You want some of this?"

        The smell is dry and straw like, I can clearly make out the difference of the paper burning against the smell of the cannabis.

        "Dude, awesome! "I exclaim.

        I take it from him and draw on it deeply. It conjures images of flying carpets and yellow submarines.  As I pull on the joint, I can see a seed pop and a twig sizzle, it is harsh, and I can't hold it in, cough, cough, cough.

        The coughing brings color bursts behind my eyes and I stagger backward into the arms of Dale.

        "Hold on there pardner, I gotcha"

        The joint still burning between my fingers and as it moves it makes trails of neon red light in its wake.

        "WHOA! Wow!"

        Dale say's, 

        "Trails, dude, those are trails."

        "Wow, that's a trip!"

        Steve takes the joint back from me and says,

        "It works better with a cigarette and it's a lot cheaper than this dope"

        He holds out his pack of Marlboro Reds and I take one, Dale holds out his lighter and I light her up. once I got it going, I wave it around in the air and watch the circles the red embers make, just delighted like a kid with a sparkler on the fourth of July.

        Steve say's,

        "Come on, let's go down to the water!"

        He starts his way over the small boulders, Dale and I follow behind. By this time, we were all really peaking. Everything has become alive and is moving in waves and patterns I've never seen before. There are patterns everywhere you look, the rocks, the trees, the stars even the skin on my hand has a pattern and the patterns are alive with motion not unlike a kaleidoscope, colors changing and ebbing with the sound of the water babbling and churning.  We move slowly so we don't trip over our hallucinations, a stick on the ground becomes a big lizard and darts this way and that, a stone becomes a turtle looking up at you and asking you a question in a dark language laughing.  In the water there are fish jumping and doing flips while the moon smiles down upon us. I have never been so happy in all my life! I am but a forest creature become one with the night. 

        We walk in the center of the wash, our drenched shoes icy cold. The rocks slippery, I nearly lose my balance in a slow-motion fantasy, standing on one foot for what seems like two minutes, my arms outstretched absorbing energy the universe had to give. I gained my balance and see Dale about 20 feet ahead of me,

Screaming...