A Junkie's Journal

Two

edited (10.18.16)

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Tristan was anxious about returning to online school the next day. He almost had a panic attack, so he asked his grandmother for a Klonopin. Half an hour after he took the Klonopin, he felt loopy and happy-go-lucky. He loved feeling like this; he wanted to be this way for as long as he lived.
That night, Tristan was talking to a friend. The Klonopin was starting to wear off, and he didn't want to come down from the high. He remembered that he had bought a bottle of Dramamine; it wasn't a very good "recreational" drug, if it could even be called that, but it was all Tristan had. He poured the twelve pills from the bottle into his hand and swallowed them.
The friend Tristan was talking to was paranoid about Tristan dying from taking twelve pills at once. Tristan kind of shrugged it off; he wasn't worried at all because he had taken the same twelve pills in the past. Although Tristan knew the pills weren't going to kill him, his friend had made him paranoid. He googled how many pills of Dramamine would kill someone.
The people who had taken Dramamine to trip took six to twelve pills; however, the people who took twelve pills didn't have fun trips. Tristan did some more googling and found out that someone tripped when they took Dramamine because their body was going into anaphylactic shock. An anaphylactic shock was an extreme allergic reaction that one's body went through when taking Dramamine in high doses. Sometimes, people died from these shocks. Now that he learned some things, Tristan was really paranoid about dying at this point, so he went to the bathroom and tried to purge the pills.
Tristan's room had multicolored plastic stars on the ceiling. Once Tristan returned to his room, he lied on his bed and looked up at the stars. He stared at a red star, and then the star suddenly had legs. He couldn't tell if they were black or clear. The star, which now looked like a spider, came down from the ceiling until the spider was right in front of Tristan's face. He stared at the spider in fear, wondering how he didn't notice the spider in his room before. Tristan stared at the spider, wondering what to do. Before he could call for his parents to kill the spider, it vaporized right in front of his eyes. He was shocked; what the hell just happened?
When Tristan looked back up at the ceiling, the spider incident repeated. He shut his eyes tightly, hoping the hallucination would go away. This cycle happened every time he opened his eyes.
By this time, Tristan figured he hadn't purged all the pills. He went to the bathroom, but it took him a while - he felt like there were weights attached to every limb. Tristan stood in front of the toilet and stuck his fingers down his throat, but before he could get anything up, he yelled in fright and jumped away from the toilet. There were webs around the toilet seat and a huge brown spider in the water. Tristan shook his head; he had to keep telling himself that none of this was real. He got some more pills out of his system and went back to his room.
Tristan lied in his bed, feeling sick to his stomach. Maybe there were still more pills inside of him. He was too tired to be able to make it to the bathroom, so he brought his trash can over to his bed and leaned over it.
God, he couldn't catch a break. Tristan made yet another startled sound when he looked into the trash can. Great, there were more spiders. These spiders were moving, and there was a shit ton of them, enough to fill the bottom of the trash can. He shut his eyes tightly and leaned back over the can; none of this was real, none of this was real.
When he leaned over this time, he was at a different angle and could see the sides of the can. There was a white, oval-shaped object stuck to the side. The object had tiny legs and it was crawling toward him. Tristan moved to touch it to see if it was real or a hallucination. Hallucinations disappeared if they were touched, and real things stayed the same.
Tristan touched the centipede-like object and drew back, slamming the lid of the trash can closed. He felt it. He felt it. Shit, it was real.
Since Tristan was terrified of bugs, he called his father up to kill the centipede. He showed his father the centipede, and his dad calmly stated, "That's not a centipede. That's gum or something."
Fuck, fuck, fuck. The pills were still inside of him. He needed to get them out. Once his father left the room, he purged in his trash can. The spiders in the trash can were getting closer and closer to his face, and he was trying so hard not to scream. After he thought he had purged all of the pills, he went to his bed and slept for the rest of the night. Tristan decided he was never going to take Dramamine again.