Bruce walked from room to room, getting astonished by the peculiar aesthetic of the place. Yellowish green walls and old carpets covered the floor miles away, like some kind of unimaginative loop inside a retard's dream. Something was wrong and something meant all.
"Hello?", Bruce said at the empty room.
And what was that terrible smell? It was everywhere. Something was rotten, no so far from where he was.
"Hello!", Bruce shouted again. "What's happening?"
It was the effect of some drug in his brain; somebody may have put into his beer. No LSD, but some type of powerful mushroom, or maybe something else. The only thing he knew is that he was sitting at the open window, drinking, when... Well, he just appeared there, in the endless succession of intoxicating yellow rooms.
"Oh, dude, I knew I shouldn't have come to Peter's place."
Peter, what a great guy! But he does too much marihuana, even for his own good. But when he throws a party, you know everybody there would be either drunk or doing coke; it was that kind of parties.
And Bruce... Bruce always ends it up drunk and doing something stupid, to call everyone's attention. But he promised himself stop doing those things... and he failed. But there was a reason; Anny broke up with him the night before. So, when Peter called, saying his stupid jokes as usual, he knew he should say no, but it was impossible. He was feeling lonely and pathetic, and there was nowhere else to go.
Bruce sat on the carpet and grabbed his head. He wasn't dizzy or high or anything, but there was no other explanation for what was happening, other than drugs. He knew them way to well, but couldn't tell what would make somebody have the power of such a vivid hallucination.
"A mix!", he said.
Sure, some coke plus some PCP plus the alcohol in the beer, and violá! Why not? He never tried the mix before, and he had tried everything. But even if it was some hallucinatory effect, it felt so vivid. He could even touch the walls, feel the wet carpet under his shoes, and everything was in place, just like in real life.
He was feeling sorry for himself, when he sensed something moving in front of him. He glanced at the end of the room; there was a black guy, wearing white shirt with dark stains.
"Hi. Can you help me?", asked Bruce, standing up. "I think I'm high, and I need a room where to stay until it passes. A room with a bed."
The black guy didn't say anything. He was just there, staring. And his face was quite shallow, without any expression. Maybe he was drunk.
"Are you a Peter's friend?", asked Bruce, but the man didn't answer. "All right..."
Bruce was about to leave, when he saw the black man running fast towards him. When he was just a few steps away, Bruce noticed the guy was armed with a large metal hammer or an axe, and when he saw those angry eyes getting closer, he realized that went to Peter's party was the last stupid thing he has ever done.
Thank for reading! :)
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Day Seven
ParanormalGoing up-stairs in the subway, a man steps on a plastic cup and falls down, but far from getting severly hurt, he finds himself in a strange place, where no-ending yellow corridors is all to see, and from where is almost impossible to scape. At firs...
