I made the wrong choice. I knew it instantly. I had made a terrible and horrifically wrong choice to take the step. My body-every fiber of my being filled with fear and dread and the knowledge that something terrible, dangerous would happen if I proceeded.
My feet carried me hard and fast. I was as quick as lightening and caused earthquakes with my steps. I ran through the fruit tree blocks and through the food production sector and past the newer glass buildings and into the paved city center.
I collapsed on top of a street garbage receptacle. The fermentation in my muscles compelled me to regurgitate my stomach contents. I stayed hunched over the trash bin, trembling. Once I was done, I slid down onto the ground. The glass felt cool against my back, which was drenched in sweat. I felt hopeless.
"What happened to you!?"
My head bobbed up to see where the voice was coming from. The person was approaching me.
"Oh, no,"
I didn't have the motivation to respond to my comrade.
She helped me sit up straight, and not toppled upon myself.
"Damnit" she muttered.
I stared blankly into whatever my eyes pointed at naturally.
"Let's get you home and cleaned up"
She helped me up and we hobbled back to my room. The stairs were especially painful.
I remember her drawing a bath for me to be later dipped into, after all my sweat and vomit clothes stripped from me and shoes tossed aside. She helped me into the sleeping clothes I only wore half of the time and into the god-granted sheets I owned-they were much comfortable than most people's.
"You have to tell me what happened!"
"No, I don't," I muttered, barely audible.
"Fine, but I promise you that when I come back tomorrow, you're damn sure going to tell me what made you end up like this."
I ignored her and let her find the way out herself. The aftermath of all the organic chemicals caused me to become very drowsy. The bed enticed me into not so magical wonderland of dreams.
