Demon Of The Fall
Demon Of The Fall
Demon Of The Fall
I have a story to tell. It’s not a happy story with a happy ending, or a sad or problematic story with a happy ending. It’s more of a good story that quickly spirals downward into the most hellish regions you can imagine. This isn’t an exaggeration either, and it’s something a lot of people have experienced, but at the same time it’s not. I didn’t deal with a sudden death in the family, or a relationship going south for the tenth time, or even drinking heavily again on a Friday night and having the worst fucking hangover in the morning. With the exception of a sudden death in the family, what happened to me Is probably the worst thing anyone can ever experience. I think some background information on my surroundings will be useful when I get into this story. My town of West Arch, New York has a population of about 1,150 people, and out of that number, probably 450 of those people, including me, have done some form of drug for an extended amount of time. It’s actually kind of sad to me, seeing kids in middle school, no older than fourteen smoking a marijuana joint before heading off to school. That’s not one of those things I see every now and again, it’s pretty commonplace here actually. When you get above middle school and get into the high school level and its fellow dropouts, things get pretty fucking ridiculous, even worse than that. Girls whoring themselves out for cigarettes. Yes, cigarettes. Not marijuana cigarettes or laced cigarettes, well sometimes, but usually just regular tobacco ones like Newports and Camels. Just picture that. Some seventeen year old asking a twenty-something high school dropout for some cigarettes, but he won’t just give them to her. No, she has to do something for it, and for some people, paying $20 for them doesn’t cut it. She has to fuck him for it, and even then she might not get any. If she was good, then it’s no question, she might get a whole pack. However, if it was so-so, she’ll be lucky to get two of them. You’ve probably never heard of a thing like that. Everyone has heard of “crack whores”, but “cigarette whores?”. That’s where things get a little insane. Now besides the cigarette whores, and the middle school stoners, my town also has a problem with basically every well-known drug that’s out there right now. Remember when I said about 450 people in this town have done some kind drug for some extent of time? Well the majority of those people are just stoners, or at the most do ecstasy at parties. But there’s a small amount of people, probably like twenty people I personally know, that go far beyond weed and ecstasy. Those people get a hold of drugs like PCP, heroin, cocaine, crack cocaine, acid, morphine, shrooms and other drugs about just as easily as they can go into a store and buy a bottle of pop. Like I said, I personally know those people, but I still wouldn’t try the hard drugs they offered me. That was when I had enough sense to say no, and comfortably smoke a joint or a cigarette instead. Regardless of what I said to them about how heroin and crack were a bit too much, they didn’t listen. Every Friday or Saturday night I’d attend some house party, grab a beer, maybe smoke some weed with whoever offered it to me and have a good time, except for this one instance. Now this is where I start to get into the main point of this whole story, the thing that basically put me through hell and back.
May 12th, six months ago from today was just another Friday. “Just another Friday” for me meant just another party to go to, and then the next day I’d rest up until the evening came, go to another party, then get over my hangover and last until the next Friday would come. It was a neverending cycle it seemed for me. Anyways, on this second Friday in May my friend Anthony was having a house party and knowing how I tend to spend my weekends, he invited me to go. Anthony wasn’t a drug user at all, he just liked to drink, a lot. In fact, when he’d have breakfast, he wouldn’t just have toast and orange juice, he’d have toast and orange juice with vodka. Every single day including that Friday. So yeah, he was just a drinker, but I knew the majority of the people he was inviting, and I knew they’d be bringing drugs. Anthony wouldn’t care if people brought drugs to his house, he just wouldn’t use them which was fine by the people who had them. However, I wish he had a “no drug” policy that night, it would of saved me and a few others including him, a lot of trouble. Ill fast forward through the day until I arrived at the party. I walked in and there were already about thirty people there, drinking and smoking and listening to the hardstyle songs being blared on Anthony’s stereo. He saw me almost immediately and handed me a beer which I took with a laugh. We talked for a bit, mainly about pointless stuff, and about how sad it was that a few people were getting completely smashed with only three beers in their system. Lightweights cant handle alcohol I suppose. After awhile I walked around the house with my second drink, looking for some people to smoke with. I noticed an old friend, Adam, who was lighting up in the corner of the living room with a few other people. I went over to him and asked him for some, and he rolled me up a joint and I light it and began to smoke. When I said he was an old friend, I meant it. I hadn’t seen him in about three years, but that wasn’t my fault, it was his for doing jail time for felony drug possession. In between inhaling the marijuana smoke and drinking my beer, we talked about how his jail time went, and after a bit he began ranting about how jails should only be for sex offenders, and murderers and rapists and such, and not for drug users. He went on and on, and I knew he was getting a little drunk because of how he never shut up, even when taking a drink. That’s what I remembered most about him, he was a social drunk, and he never shut up. Only thing that would make him quiet is if he passed out, which almost never happened, and that stayed true that night. After I finally finished my joint I told him I’d find him later, and I continued to wander around Anthony’s until I saw Anthony go into his back room with a few other people. I thought maybe one of them had more marijuana, so I followed them.
Anthony noticed me and asked what I wanted, and I told him I felt like smoking more. He snickered and told me a friend of his, brought a backpack of drugs, which I saw. A black and silver Nike backpack that he took off his shoulder and set down on a table. Anthony shut the door behind us, which muffled much of the noise from the rest of the party. I asked the person with the Nike bag what was in it. He took out a few Ziploc baggies that had what looked like cocaine in them, but he told me that’s not what it was. I was so focused on the unknown drugs that other than Anthony, I didn’t know the other four people in the room were people I knew. The first person I finally recognized was Sid, and after I recognized him I knew he was the obvious person to bring drugs, and a lot of them. Sid was Anthony’s friend, but to me he was only an acquaintance, someone I met about three times in my life, but in those three times I knew Sid wasn’t someone to fuck with. He was the town’s main drug dealer, and he had a lot of connections no one knew about really. Those connections are what supplied him with heroin, weed, cocaine, etc, and those drugs are what supplied Sid with money. He was one of the twenty or so people that I said did hard drugs, and he did indeed do a lot of them, in lieu with selling. All three times I’ve seen him he would ramble on about how acid gave him such a good mind trip, or how he felt serene and calm with morphine. Truthfully he seemed kind of scary to me, always high, but that night he seemed to be clean and sober for once. The other three people in the room were my friends Chris, Mark and Evan, who were all like me and partied on the weekends and smoked marijuana every other day. And like me, they never touched hard drugs. Once I finally noticed, they were just as interested in these mystery drugs as I was. I asked Sid again what was in the bag, and he told me it was 2CA-FLY, an experimental synthetic drug from Denmark. I don’t know how he knew people in Denmark, but he told us he knew a chemist there who created the drug and began selling it on the open market. The drug wasn’t common enough yet to be recognized by the Federal Government, so it was unscheduled which made it legal, at least at that time. So after Sid explained how he got it, and what it was, he told us what it was supposed to do.
Sid explained that 2CA-FLY was similar to PCP both in composition, and in the effects. I felt like this was one of those stories you hear in elementary school, where all the kids sat around the teacher and listened as he/she reads a story. That day, Sid was our teacher. He told us that like PCP, you’d hallucinate and feel things you wouldn’t normally feel from other drugs. He explained that just one hit from the drug was sufficient enough to give you a completely mind altering trip complete with the best euphoria and the most intense visuals and sounds you could ever experience. After he said that, I was actually debating whether or not to try some. Like I said, I was a drinker and weed smoker, that’s it. I would never touch anything addictive like cocaine or heroin, and I was too scared of hallucinogens because I didn’t want a bad trip that I know would feel all too real. However, Sid knew his drugs, and based on what he was telling us about 2CA-FLY, the experience you would get was almost surely guaranteed to be a good one. After he finished telling us what it did, he took out a credit card and a little bit of the drug, and formed it into a small line, like cocaine. He looked up at us and asked, “who wants to try some?”. I looked at the line for a moment and spoke up that I would try it. Anthony and Evan looked at me funny, like they didn’t expect me to want to try some. I myself hardly believed I actually wanted it, but Sid was like some salesman that makes even the most useless product sound enticing and amazing enough to want to buy.
He formed me a small line, and I took a deep breath and snorted it all in my right nostril, then got up and yelled. It felt like hot sauce fumes going into your nose. The tiny minute crystals burned my sinuses and I held my nose for a moment until the pain started to subside. Sid laughed then did a line himself like it was nothing. No yelling, no apparent nasal pain, he seemed to be a pro at this stuff. He asked the others if they wanted any, but they politely declined, choosing instead to pay attention to me and what I was doing. I didn’t feel much after the pain, except a warm sensation all over my body like I was standing next to a fireplace. I was wearing a hoodie and I took it off since the warmth was becoming too much for me. After I took it off I felt a little better, but my forehead itched and when I went to itch it I noticed I was sweating considerably. Now, it was May after all, but that night it was no more than 55 degrees out, so I had no reason to be sweating. I figured this was just one of the side effects of the drug, and after awhile I got used to it, but I was anticipating when the true effects would kick in. Anthony asked me how I was doing, and I told him I felt a little dizzy like when drinking, and that I was a little warm. Sid spoke up out of nowhere that that was normal and I would be fine. Then he opened up the door and all the noise of the party came back full force. It kind of scared me since I jumped as soon as all the noise came back. But I walked out of the room stumbling a bit, and looked around at everybody. The bass from the stereo seemed to of gotten deeper and louder and every time it came on my heart beat a little harder.
I stood up against a wall observing the party, and what was going on with me. I was still sweating, but for some reason I didn’t care anymore, because of the bass thumping in my chest and the fact that everything looked a little more vivid than before. It was kind of like when you adjust the contrast on a tv and you make the screen more colorful and bright. That’s what I was starting to see. All sorts of different colors were appearing right in front of my eyes, and everyone’s skin, including mine, had a teal tint to it. I walked into Anthony’s bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. My skin was still teal, and my eyes were a bright red. I looked closer at myself, and I could clearly see that the iris of my eyes was no longer blue like it was, but instead it was a bright, bright red. I rubbed my eyes then opened them up again, and they were still the same color. At this point I actually started to panic, and I ran the sink water to flush out whatever I thought was in my eyes. Continuously I splashed water onto my face but nothing changed. My body was trembling and because I furiously rubbed my eyes, they started to tear. At first it was actual tears, but then I noticed the tears turned red. I thought I was crying blood. I panicked and grabbed the nearest washcloth and held it up to my face. When I took it away the white washcloth was stained red. I ran out of the bathroom and headed to the front door to leave. Right as soon as I was about to, out of nowhere Mark grabbed my arm. He asked me where I was going and I told him I had to go to the hospital because of my bleeding eyes. He looked at me for a moment and told me I was fine, there was no blood, only tears. I kept asking him over and over if I was bleeding and he kept telling me no.
At that point I started realizing the drug was negatively affecting me, contrary to what Sid told me. I walked back with Mark into the back room and began pacing around nervously. Sid and Anthony came in and Mark told them I was freaking out already. They didn’t say anything to me, they just watched me pace back and forth. Finally Anthony came up to me and asked me how I was feeling. I told him that I was a little more calmed down, but still nervous about what else was going to happen to me. He told me to sit down, and when I did I felt a lot more relaxed for some reason. Everything still had different colors swirling around and I still had teal skin, but I was kind of laughing. I don’t know what was so funny but I couldn’t stop laughing. It was like I was on nitrous oxide or something, everything just seemed really funny to me. Sid started laughing too, and that only made me laugh harder. Anthony and Mark however were looking at me like I was crazy. I got up still laughing, and I was pointing at all the random things that had different colors. Sid didn’t tell me that this drug gave me intense mood swings, because within about twenty minutes I went from calm, to scared, to calm again, to bursting out in laughter. I’m not sure how much time passed by, but I spent a great deal of time looking at all the colors that weren’t really there and telling Sid, Anthony, and Mark how amazing it was that everything went from maroon, to blue, to white and back to maroon again. They knew I was tripping pretty hard, but at the same time they also knew there was no sense in telling me that yet since I wouldn’t of been able to listen. Instead they just nodded and agreed with me when I told them how amazing everything was around me.
At the time, I didn’t think of it, but afterwards I realized Sid showed almost no effects of the drug whatsoever, despite ingesting a bigger line of it than I did. What I can remember is that he looked a little sweaty, but that was about it. He wasn’t immersed in hallucinations like I was, instead he seemed just like everyone else. So in a sense, I was the only one on drugs, and it could be clearly noticed. After awhile, I stopped telling everyone about the colors I saw, and I instead sat back down and closed my eyes. With my eyes closed, I began to feel like I was spinning, and flashes of light appeared out of nowhere. They became more and more intense until I thought I was about to have an epilepsy. I had no idea what was going on, but for some reason I didn’t open my eyes or take any action to find out. It was like I was paralyzed, or under hypnosis. Along with the flashing light patterns, all the sounds of the party seemed to fade out, until they completely faded out altogether. Everything was quiet, and I could feel myself slip away from reality, and I began to enter the innermost part of my psyche.
This is where my trip began to really take off. The flashing lights went away, and I could hear nothing at all. It was like I was in a sensory deprivation chamber where the only thing I could interact with was myself. Everything was black, and even though I was awake, it was like I was completely cut off from everything around me. Faint humming sounds began to develop, and they seemed to force a smile on my face. Out of the blackness came an aura of red light, which slowly changed colors and got my full attention. The humming sound stayed at its same tone while the colors began to change faster. This seemed to go on forever and then everything faded to black again. I felt a warming sensation all over my body similar to what I felt earlier, but it felt more intense. All of a sudden the humming sound came back, but it grew progressively louder and louder until it was ear piercing. I screamed and held my ears while I tumbled to the ground in a ball. My body felt like it was on fire, and when I opened my eyes, everything was covered in blood. The chair, the walls, the windows, everything. Even me. I furiously wiped at my arms to get the blood off, but it wouldn’t come off. I screamed as loud as I could, trying to drown out the piercing sound that wouldn’t go away. It was at that moment that I thought I was in hell. The blood on the walls began to drip down, and when it touched the floor it turned black. Blood dripped onto my face from the ceiling, and it burned like boiling water. I was still screaming and basically pawing at myself trying to relieve the burn and to remove the blood from my skin. I cried for help, but since I was in hell I knew it would do no good. I closed my eyes hoping everything would go away, but when I opened them everything was worse. Four people stumbled into the same hell I was in, looking tortured and emaciated beyond belief. They came towards me but I pushed them away in fear and began running. I tripped on something and fell, and when I looked up I saw a demon staring down at me. It had the figure of a human but its skin was non existent .Instead I saw its black and bleeding muscles and tendons, and its face was a bloodied skull with the sharpest fangs that rivaled even those of the most vicious animal. The demon picked me up quickly but I shoved it against the wall and ran out of the room. Outside the room was just as bloody and horrible as where I started, and my heart was racing faster than it ever did. I looked around quickly and grabbed a large knife from a burned out table. Then I sprinted back to where the demon was, and I had it in my eyes. It ran towards me but as soon as it did I tackled it to the ground and slashed it across the throat. Black blood began pouring out, and the demon let out the most inhuman scream I ever heard. It even drowned out the high pitched sound that finally began to fade away. It reached its hands on me but I yelled and began furiously slashing at it more, seeing its blood pour out everywhere, and all over my hands. When I looked up, the emaciated people I saw just stood there, but they were no longer emaciated. They looked completely normal, and when I continued to look at them, I noticed they were Sid, Chris, Anthony and Evan. My friends witnessed me kill a demon. I got up from the floor and smiled then proceeded to try and walk towards them but Anthony pushed me down and grabbed the knife from my hands. I asked why he did that after I just saved his life, and what he said completely brought me back to reality. “You killed Mark. We left you alone until the party was over, and when we heard you screaming we came in to see what happened. I don’t know what you saw, or what you thought you saw, but you just killed one of your best friends”. I closed my eyes for a moment and when I opened them everything was normal and real. I looked at the demon, and it wasn’t a demon at all. It was Mark, with a slashed throat, dead, lying in a pool of blood.
I couldn’t believe what had happened. A clock on the wall said 3:34 A.M, and I couldn’t get it through my head that in a matter of eight hours, I went from drinking a beer and smoking a joint, to killing my friend in a hallucinogenic drug rage. Things like that happen quite a bit, just not on that sort of scale. An example would be having a great day where nothing can seem to go wrong, then boom, there’s something that comes out of nowhere like a bullet to completely fuck your day over. Completely unplanned and unexpected to everyone. That’s what that whole night felt like. No one expected anyone to die, or wanted anyone to die for that matter. However, I ruined that by murdering my friend who I thought was a demon in my hellish hallucination. I got up to my feet and just looked at him, like everyone else. The drugs’ hallucinogenic effects seemed to of worn off completely after that. I knew exactly where I was, and everything looked how it was supposed to be. No flames, no darkness, no blood except for on the floor and on my person. I knew I wasn’t in Hell and I was completely aware of what I did. Mark wasn’t a demon at all, and I now realized that. Nothing I saw was real, yet all it took was a line of crystals to make me think otherwise. Everyone else was pacing around except for Sid, who kind of looked emotionless, like he didn’t care about what just happened. I wanted to murder him and tell him this was all his fault that Mark was killed and it was all his fault I was a drug-induced killer, but it wasn’t all him. I should of never of taken the drug, yet at the same time Sid lied to me, and told me it was safe and euphoric. It was, to an extent. Despite what I wanted to do, I remained silent. As I continued to stand, I felt dizzy, and out of nowhere, I collapsed on the floor. Everything for the next two hours was all a blur to me.
When I woke up, I was in the back room by myself, being woken up by the rising sun shining out the window. I clutched my head, and noticed I had a bump from when I fell. Why I fell, I had no idea . That was the last thing I remembered. I thought maybe I had a bad hangover, but the more I thought about it, I only had two drinks and a joint, so that was impossible. When I got myself together, I walked out of the back room and saw a gigantic blood stain on the living room floor. Anthony, Evan, and Chris were sitting down and they had the most pained look on their faces. In complete shock I asked them what the blood stain was from and they wouldn’t answer me. I asked again, and finally Chris stood up and looked at me. He asked me what the last thing I remembered was, and I told him; falling in the kitchen for no apparent reason, probably due to some hangover I didn’t think I had. After I said that he looked down for a moment then explained everything to me. While he did, I began to tremble. Every memory from that night began to come back to me. I then remembered everything I did, from taking Sid’s drug, to laughing at the hallucinations, to brutally killing Mark. I sat down and buried my face in my hands, not wanting to believe any of that was real. The reason being is, I would never kill anyone, and things like that seldom happened to anyone. I remember reading a newspaper article two years ago about a rapper who killed his girlfriend while high on PCP. Apparently he thought the devil was inside of her so he tore open her ribcage and ate her heart. When police found him he was standing in the middle of the street , naked and bloodsoaked, staring at the moon. I remember reading that and that ended up being part of the reason I never wanted to try any hard drugs. Now, I know that things like that that actually happen are few and far in between, but when I read about it, something just hit me inside that turned me off from drugs like that. I knew if I ever did do a hard drug, that probably wouldn’t happen. I wouldn’t kill someone while high, though the fact that it maybe could happen was enough for me to stick to alcohol and marijuana. But…as you now know, I didn’t stick to alcohol and weed, I did do a hard drug( a largely unknown one at that), and the improbable did happen. I murdered my friend, and all of it was real, even if I prayed and wished it wasn’t. While all my thoughts came back to me in an instant, Chris, Evan and Anthony all explained to me what happened while I was unconscious.
When I fell, Evan and Anthony picked me up and put me in the back room, knowing I was unconscious. After that, they discussed with Sid and Chris what to do. None of them wanted to go to the police, still in fear and shock over what happened. Anthony finally decided that none of them would tell anyone what happened, and instead they would hide Mark’s body. If I was in the room and conscious, I would of spoke up and said no to that, since I would of wanted to come clean about the murder instead of having the stress and guilt of covering it up. However, I had no say in what happened of course. All four of them took Mark’s body into Anthony’s backyard and buried him six feet under. About halfway through it, both Evan and Chris couldn’t take it anymore and broke down. They really didn’t want anything to do with the murder at all, and if it wasn’t for Sid pulling a gun on them, which no one knew he had, then they would of gone straight to the police. Sid basically held them at gunpoint while helping Anthony with the rest of the burial. I knew he was emotionless. Sure Anthony wanted to cover up the whole ordeal, but that’s because he was freaked out beyond comprehension, same with Chris and Evan. Sid on the other hand, he was of sound mind. Never shed one tear that whole night, and didn’t say much of anything either except “you’re not fucking going anywhere”, when he pulled out his gun. Anthony, Evan and Chris had almost immediate remorse for wanting to cover up the murder, and like I said, if it wasn’t for Sid and his gun, the police would have been notified that night.
Anyways, Anthony and Sid finished up burying Mark, and then went inside to clean the blood soaked living room as best they could. Well, Sid didn’t really do much of anything except stand up against the wall with his gun in his hand like he was watching over hostages. After the living room was cleaned as best as possible, the talk about going to the police sparked up again. This infuriated Sid even more than before. Maybe they thought after some time passed, he’d rethink what he was doing and give in. No. Sid basically went on a tirade of how fucked over he would get with accomplice to murder, drug possession, possession with intent to sell, hiding a crime, and possessing an unlicensed firearm. Instead, his plan was to cover up the crime more. Sid went into the kitchen and found a pair of latex gloves and put them on, then said he drive Mark’s car into the lake so it would appear that that’s how he died. The latex gloves were so his DNA or fingerprints wouldn’t be found on the steering wheel. Before anyone could argue against it, Sid walked out of the house and open Mark’s car which was already unlocked, and took out his keys from the center console and drove off. About fifteen minutes after that, Sid called Anthony to tell him the car had been dumped, so there was no longer anything to worry about. Finally about a half hour after that is where I woke up and then found all of that out. After Sid left, Evan, Chris and Anthony wanted to go to the police and confess what happened, but they instead waited until I was awake. I had no objection to that. Before we left, I went out to the backyard where Mark was buried. The sun was shining on me, and I didn’t exactly know why. Maybe it was because I had no intention on covering up the murder, and if there was a god, it was him shining down on me for that decision. Instead however, the sun should have been shining on Mark’s grave, because he was the one to not do anything wrong. I didn’t laugh at my stupidity of thinking he was a demon, instead I thought of what would of happened if I never took the 2CA-FLY. I probably would of still woken up dazed and confused, knowing for sure it was just another typical hangover. When I would stumble from whatever room I passed out in, I wouldn’t see any blood, and I would been on my way home to rest and recover till the next day.
We went to the police station shortly afterwards and told them everything that happened, including Sid getting rid of Mark’s car. We spent the whole day in a holding cell while the police basically went on a manhunt for Sid. Around 8:00 that night, they brought him in, and the very next morning we awaited trial. I couldn’t sleep that whole time, the images of the previous night kept playing over and over in my head on a seemingly endless loop. All I wanted was for none of those events to of really happened, but the most retribution I would get was through my appropriate sentencing. Our trial lasted only two days, and after that our fates were sealed. Anthony, Evan, and Chris each got two years in jail for attempting to hide the murder even though we all confessed. Sid however, wasn’t so lucky and ended up getting life in prison for all the charges he thought he would get: drug possession, possession with intent to sell, possessing an unlicensed firearm, attempting to hide a murder, plus destroying evidence of the murder and for threatening with a deadly weapon, which was from when he held Evan and Chris at gunpoint. Me, I got 25 years in prison for the murder, and mandatory psychiatric evaluation because the whole situation really did a hit on my mental health. Even six months after the whole ordeal, I still think about it everyday. When I get out of jail I’m done with drugs and alcohol of any kind. It’s not worth it anymore to me. When I began this story, I said I basically went through hell and back that night. Though that night has come and passed, I still am in Hell. Maybe not physically, but emotionally and mentally. I also said this story had no good ending. Hopefully. one day all of that can change.
I have a story to tell. It’s not a happy story with a happy ending, or a sad or problematic story with a happy ending. It’s more of a good story that quickly spirals downward into the most hellish regions you can imagine. This isn’t an exaggeration either, and it’s something a lot of people have experienced, but at the same time it’s not. I didn’t deal with a sudden death in the family, or a relationship going south for the tenth time, or even drinking heavily again on a Friday night and having the worst fucking hangover in the morning. With the exception of a sudden death in the family, what happened to me Is probably the worst thing anyone can ever experience. I think some background information on my surroundings will be useful when I get into this story. My town of West Arch, New York has a population of about 1,150 people, and out of that number, probably 450 of those people, including me, have done some form of drug for an extended amount of time. It’s actually kind of sad to me, seeing kids in middle school, no older than fourteen smoking a marijuana joint before heading off to school. That’s not one of those things I see every now and again, it’s pretty commonplace here actually. When you get above middle school and get into the high school level and its fellow dropouts, things get pretty fucking ridiculous, even worse than that. Girls whoring themselves out for cigarettes. Yes, cigarettes. Not marijuana cigarettes or laced cigarettes, well sometimes, but usually just regular tobacco ones like Newports and Camels. Just picture that. Some seventeen year old asking a twenty-something high school dropout for some cigarettes, but he won’t just give them to her. No, she has to do something for it, and for some people, paying $20 for them doesn’t cut it. She has to fuck him for it, and even then she might not get any. If she was good, then it’s no question, she might get a whole pack. However, if it was so-so, she’ll be lucky to get two of them. You’ve probably never heard of a thing like that. Everyone has heard of “crack whores”, but “cigarette whores?”. That’s where things get a little insane. Now besides the cigarette whores, and the middle school stoners, my town also has a problem with basically every well-known drug that’s out there right now. Remember when I said about 450 people in this town have done some kind drug for some extent of time? Well the majority of those people are just stoners, or at the most do ecstasy at parties. But there’s a small amount of people, probably like twenty people I personally know, that go far beyond weed and ecstasy. Those people get a hold of drugs like PCP, heroin, cocaine, crack cocaine, acid, morphine, shrooms and other drugs about just as easily as they can go into a store and buy a bottle of pop. Like I said, I personally know those people, but I still wouldn’t try the hard drugs they offered me. That was when I had enough sense to say no, and comfortably smoke a joint or a cigarette instead. Regardless of what I said to them about how heroin and crack were a bit too much, they didn’t listen. Every Friday or Saturday night I’d attend some house party, grab a beer, maybe smoke some weed with whoever offered it to me and have a good time, except for this one instance. Now this is where I start to get into the main point of this whole story, the thing that basically put me through hell and back.
May 12th, six months ago from today was just another Friday. “Just another Friday” for me meant just another party to go to, and then the next day I’d rest up until the evening came, go to another party, then get over my hangover and last until the next Friday would come. It was a neverending cycle it seemed for me. Anyways, on this second Friday in May my friend Anthony was having a house party and knowing how I tend to spend my weekends, he invited me to go. Anthony wasn’t a drug user at all, he just liked to drink, a lot. In fact, when he’d have breakfast, he wouldn’t just have toast and orange juice, he’d have toast and orange juice with vodka. Every single day including that Friday. So yeah, he was just a drinker, but I knew the majority of the people he was inviting, and I knew they’d be bringing drugs. Anthony wouldn’t care if people brought drugs to his house, he just wouldn’t use them which was fine by the people who had them. However, I wish he had a “no drug” policy that night, it would of saved me and a few others including him, a lot of trouble. Ill fast forward through the day until I arrived at the party. I walked in and there were already about thirty people there, drinking and smoking and listening to the hardstyle songs being blared on Anthony’s stereo. He saw me almost immediately and handed me a beer which I took with a laugh. We talked for a bit, mainly about pointless stuff, and about how sad it was that a few people were getting completely smashed with only three beers in their system. Lightweights cant handle alcohol I suppose. After awhile I walked around the house with my second drink, looking for some people to smoke with. I noticed an old friend, Adam, who was lighting up in the corner of the living room with a few other people. I went over to him and asked him for some, and he rolled me up a joint and I light it and began to smoke. When I said he was an old friend, I meant it. I hadn’t seen him in about three years, but that wasn’t my fault, it was his for doing jail time for felony drug possession. In between inhaling the marijuana smoke and drinking my beer, we talked about how his jail time went, and after a bit he began ranting about how jails should only be for sex offenders, and murderers and rapists and such, and not for drug users. He went on and on, and I knew he was getting a little drunk because of how he never shut up, even when taking a drink. That’s what I remembered most about him, he was a social drunk, and he never shut up. Only thing that would make him quiet is if he passed out, which almost never happened, and that stayed true that night. After I finally finished my joint I told him I’d find him later, and I continued to wander around Anthony’s until I saw Anthony go into his back room with a few other people. I thought maybe one of them had more marijuana, so I followed them.
Anthony noticed me and asked what I wanted, and I told him I felt like smoking more. He snickered and told me a friend of his, brought a backpack of drugs, which I saw. A black and silver Nike backpack that he took off his shoulder and set down on a table. Anthony shut the door behind us, which muffled much of the noise from the rest of the party. I asked the person with the Nike bag what was in it. He took out a few Ziploc baggies that had what looked like cocaine in them, but he told me that’s not what it was. I was so focused on the unknown drugs that other than Anthony, I didn’t know the other four people in the room were people I knew. The first person I finally recognized was Sid, and after I recognized him I knew he was the obvious person to bring drugs, and a lot of them. Sid was Anthony’s friend, but to me he was only an acquaintance, someone I met about three times in my life, but in those three times I knew Sid wasn’t someone to fuck with. He was the town’s main drug dealer, and he had a lot of connections no one knew about really. Those connections are what supplied him with heroin, weed, cocaine, etc, and those drugs are what supplied Sid with money. He was one of the twenty or so people that I said did hard drugs, and he did indeed do a lot of them, in lieu with selling. All three times I’ve seen him he would ramble on about how acid gave him such a good mind trip, or how he felt serene and calm with morphine. Truthfully he seemed kind of scary to me, always high, but that night he seemed to be clean and sober for once. The other three people in the room were my friends Chris, Mark and Evan, who were all like me and partied on the weekends and smoked marijuana every other day. And like me, they never touched hard drugs. Once I finally noticed, they were just as interested in these mystery drugs as I was. I asked Sid again what was in the bag, and he told me it was 2CA-FLY, an experimental synthetic drug from Denmark. I don’t know how he knew people in Denmark, but he told us he knew a chemist there who created the drug and began selling it on the open market. The drug wasn’t common enough yet to be recognized by the Federal Government, so it was unscheduled which made it legal, at least at that time. So after Sid explained how he got it, and what it was, he told us what it was supposed to do.
Sid explained that 2CA-FLY was similar to PCP both in composition, and in the effects. I felt like this was one of those stories you hear in elementary school, where all the kids sat around the teacher and listened as he/she reads a story. That day, Sid was our teacher. He told us that like PCP, you’d hallucinate and feel things you wouldn’t normally feel from other drugs. He explained that just one hit from the drug was sufficient enough to give you a completely mind altering trip complete with the best euphoria and the most intense visuals and sounds you could ever experience. After he said that, I was actually debating whether or not to try some. Like I said, I was a drinker and weed smoker, that’s it. I would never touch anything addictive like cocaine or heroin, and I was too scared of hallucinogens because I didn’t want a bad trip that I know would feel all too real. However, Sid knew his drugs, and based on what he was telling us about 2CA-FLY, the experience you would get was almost surely guaranteed to be a good one. After he finished telling us what it did, he took out a credit card and a little bit of the drug, and formed it into a small line, like cocaine. He looked up at us and asked, “who wants to try some?”. I looked at the line for a moment and spoke up that I would try it. Anthony and Evan looked at me funny, like they didn’t expect me to want to try some. I myself hardly believed I actually wanted it, but Sid was like some salesman that makes even the most useless product sound enticing and amazing enough to want to buy.
He formed me a small line, and I took a deep breath and snorted it all in my right nostril, then got up and yelled. It felt like hot sauce fumes going into your nose. The tiny minute crystals burned my sinuses and I held my nose for a moment until the pain started to subside. Sid laughed then did a line himself like it was nothing. No yelling, no apparent nasal pain, he seemed to be a pro at this stuff. He asked the others if they wanted any, but they politely declined, choosing instead to pay attention to me and what I was doing. I didn’t feel much after the pain, except a warm sensation all over my body like I was standing next to a fireplace. I was wearing a hoodie and I took it off since the warmth was becoming too much for me. After I took it off I felt a little better, but my forehead itched and when I went to itch it I noticed I was sweating considerably. Now, it was May after all, but that night it was no more than 55 degrees out, so I had no reason to be sweating. I figured this was just one of the side effects of the drug, and after awhile I got used to it, but I was anticipating when the true effects would kick in. Anthony asked me how I was doing, and I told him I felt a little dizzy like when drinking, and that I was a little warm. Sid spoke up out of nowhere that that was normal and I would be fine. Then he opened up the door and all the noise of the party came back full force. It kind of scared me since I jumped as soon as all the noise came back. But I walked out of the room stumbling a bit, and looked around at everybody. The bass from the stereo seemed to of gotten deeper and louder and every time it came on my heart beat a little harder.
I stood up against a wall observing the party, and what was going on with me. I was still sweating, but for some reason I didn’t care anymore, because of the bass thumping in my chest and the fact that everything looked a little more vivid than before. It was kind of like when you adjust the contrast on a tv and you make the screen more colorful and bright. That’s what I was starting to see. All sorts of different colors were appearing right in front of my eyes, and everyone’s skin, including mine, had a teal tint to it. I walked into Anthony’s bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. My skin was still teal, and my eyes were a bright red. I looked closer at myself, and I could clearly see that the iris of my eyes was no longer blue like it was, but instead it was a bright, bright red. I rubbed my eyes then opened them up again, and they were still the same color. At this point I actually started to panic, and I ran the sink water to flush out whatever I thought was in my eyes. Continuously I splashed water onto my face but nothing changed. My body was trembling and because I furiously rubbed my eyes, they started to tear. At first it was actual tears, but then I noticed the tears turned red. I thought I was crying blood. I panicked and grabbed the nearest washcloth and held it up to my face. When I took it away the white washcloth was stained red. I ran out of the bathroom and headed to the front door to leave. Right as soon as I was about to, out of nowhere Mark grabbed my arm. He asked me where I was going and I told him I had to go to the hospital because of my bleeding eyes. He looked at me for a moment and told me I was fine, there was no blood, only tears. I kept asking him over and over if I was bleeding and he kept telling me no.
At that point I started realizing the drug was negatively affecting me, contrary to what Sid told me. I walked back with Mark into the back room and began pacing around nervously. Sid and Anthony came in and Mark told them I was freaking out already. They didn’t say anything to me, they just watched me pace back and forth. Finally Anthony came up to me and asked me how I was feeling. I told him that I was a little more calmed down, but still nervous about what else was going to happen to me. He told me to sit down, and when I did I felt a lot more relaxed for some reason. Everything still had different colors swirling around and I still had teal skin, but I was kind of laughing. I don’t know what was so funny but I couldn’t stop laughing. It was like I was on nitrous oxide or something, everything just seemed really funny to me. Sid started laughing too, and that only made me laugh harder. Anthony and Mark however were looking at me like I was crazy. I got up still laughing, and I was pointing at all the random things that had different colors. Sid didn’t tell me that this drug gave me intense mood swings, because within about twenty minutes I went from calm, to scared, to calm again, to bursting out in laughter. I’m not sure how much time passed by, but I spent a great deal of time looking at all the colors that weren’t really there and telling Sid, Anthony, and Mark how amazing it was that everything went from maroon, to blue, to white and back to maroon again. They knew I was tripping pretty hard, but at the same time they also knew there was no sense in telling me that yet since I wouldn’t of been able to listen. Instead they just nodded and agreed with me when I told them how amazing everything was around me.
At the time, I didn’t think of it, but afterwards I realized Sid showed almost no effects of the drug whatsoever, despite ingesting a bigger line of it than I did. What I can remember is that he looked a little sweaty, but that was about it. He wasn’t immersed in hallucinations like I was, instead he seemed just like everyone else. So in a sense, I was the only one on drugs, and it could be clearly noticed. After awhile, I stopped telling everyone about the colors I saw, and I instead sat back down and closed my eyes. With my eyes closed, I began to feel like I was spinning, and flashes of light appeared out of nowhere. They became more and more intense until I thought I was about to have an epilepsy. I had no idea what was going on, but for some reason I didn’t open my eyes or take any action to find out. It was like I was paralyzed, or under hypnosis. Along with the flashing light patterns, all the sounds of the party seemed to fade out, until they completely faded out altogether. Everything was quiet, and I could feel myself slip away from reality, and I began to enter the innermost part of my psyche.
This is where my trip began to really take off. The flashing lights went away, and I could hear nothing at all. It was like I was in a sensory deprivation chamber where the only thing I could interact with was myself. Everything was black, and even though I was awake, it was like I was completely cut off from everything around me. Faint humming sounds began to develop, and they seemed to force a smile on my face. Out of the blackness came an aura of red light, which slowly changed colors and got my full attention. The humming sound stayed at its same tone while the colors began to change faster. This seemed to go on forever and then everything faded to black again. I felt a warming sensation all over my body similar to what I felt earlier, but it felt more intense. All of a sudden the humming sound came back, but it grew progressively louder and louder until it was ear piercing. I screamed and held my ears while I tumbled to the ground in a ball. My body felt like it was on fire, and when I opened my eyes, everything was covered in blood. The chair, the walls, the windows, everything. Even me. I furiously wiped at my arms to get the blood off, but it wouldn’t come off. I screamed as loud as I could, trying to drown out the piercing sound that wouldn’t go away. It was at that moment that I thought I was in hell. The blood on the walls began to drip down, and when it touched the floor it turned black. Blood dripped onto my face from the ceiling, and it burned like boiling water. I was still screaming and basically pawing at myself trying to relieve the burn and to remove the blood from my skin. I cried for help, but since I was in hell I knew it would do no good. I closed my eyes hoping everything would go away, but when I opened them everything was worse. Four people stumbled into the same hell I was in, looking tortured and emaciated beyond belief. They came towards me but I pushed them away in fear and began running. I tripped on something and fell, and when I looked up I saw a demon staring down at me. It had the figure of a human but its skin was non existent .Instead I saw its black and bleeding muscles and tendons, and its face was a bloodied skull with the sharpest fangs that rivaled even those of the most vicious animal. The demon picked me up quickly but I shoved it against the wall and ran out of the room. Outside the room was just as bloody and horrible as where I started, and my heart was racing faster than it ever did. I looked around quickly and grabbed a large knife from a burned out table. Then I sprinted back to where the demon was, and I had it in my eyes. It ran towards me but as soon as it did I tackled it to the ground and slashed it across the throat. Black blood began pouring out, and the demon let out the most inhuman scream I ever heard. It even drowned out the high pitched sound that finally began to fade away. It reached its hands on me but I yelled and began furiously slashing at it more, seeing its blood pour out everywhere, and all over my hands. When I looked up, the emaciated people I saw just stood there, but they were no longer emaciated. They looked completely normal, and when I continued to look at them, I noticed they were Sid, Chris, Anthony and Evan. My friends witnessed me kill a demon. I got up from the floor and smiled then proceeded to try and walk towards them but Anthony pushed me down and grabbed the knife from my hands. I asked why he did that after I just saved his life, and what he said completely brought me back to reality. “You killed Mark. We left you alone until the party was over, and when we heard you screaming we came in to see what happened. I don’t know what you saw, or what you thought you saw, but you just killed one of your best friends”. I closed my eyes for a moment and when I opened them everything was normal and real. I looked at the demon, and it wasn’t a demon at all. It was Mark, with a slashed throat, dead, lying in a pool of blood.
I couldn’t believe what had happened. A clock on the wall said 3:34 A.M, and I couldn’t get it through my head that in a matter of eight hours, I went from drinking a beer and smoking a joint, to killing my friend in a hallucinogenic drug rage. Things like that happen quite a bit, just not on that sort of scale. An example would be having a great day where nothing can seem to go wrong, then boom, there’s something that comes out of nowhere like a bullet to completely fuck your day over. Completely unplanned and unexpected to everyone. That’s what that whole night felt like. No one expected anyone to die, or wanted anyone to die for that matter. However, I ruined that by murdering my friend who I thought was a demon in my hellish hallucination. I got up to my feet and just looked at him, like everyone else. The drugs’ hallucinogenic effects seemed to of worn off completely after that. I knew exactly where I was, and everything looked how it was supposed to be. No flames, no darkness, no blood except for on the floor and on my person. I knew I wasn’t in Hell and I was completely aware of what I did. Mark wasn’t a demon at all, and I now realized that. Nothing I saw was real, yet all it took was a line of crystals to make me think otherwise. Everyone else was pacing around except for Sid, who kind of looked emotionless, like he didn’t care about what just happened. I wanted to murder him and tell him this was all his fault that Mark was killed and it was all his fault I was a drug-induced killer, but it wasn’t all him. I should of never of taken the drug, yet at the same time Sid lied to me, and told me it was safe and euphoric. It was, to an extent. Despite what I wanted to do, I remained silent. As I continued to stand, I felt dizzy, and out of nowhere, I collapsed on the floor. Everything for the next two hours was all a blur to me.
When I woke up, I was in the back room by myself, being woken up by the rising sun shining out the window. I clutched my head, and noticed I had a bump from when I fell. Why I fell, I had no idea . That was the last thing I remembered. I thought maybe I had a bad hangover, but the more I thought about it, I only had two drinks and a joint, so that was impossible. When I got myself together, I walked out of the back room and saw a gigantic blood stain on the living room floor. Anthony, Evan, and Chris were sitting down and they had the most pained look on their faces. In complete shock I asked them what the blood stain was from and they wouldn’t answer me. I asked again, and finally Chris stood up and looked at me. He asked me what the last thing I remembered was, and I told him; falling in the kitchen for no apparent reason, probably due to some hangover I didn’t think I had. After I said that he looked down for a moment then explained everything to me. While he did, I began to tremble. Every memory from that night began to come back to me. I then remembered everything I did, from taking Sid’s drug, to laughing at the hallucinations, to brutally killing Mark. I sat down and buried my face in my hands, not wanting to believe any of that was real. The reason being is, I would never kill anyone, and things like that seldom happened to anyone. I remember reading a newspaper article two years ago about a rapper who killed his girlfriend while high on PCP. Apparently he thought the devil was inside of her so he tore open her ribcage and ate her heart. When police found him he was standing in the middle of the street , naked and bloodsoaked, staring at the moon. I remember reading that and that ended up being part of the reason I never wanted to try any hard drugs. Now, I know that things like that that actually happen are few and far in between, but when I read about it, something just hit me inside that turned me off from drugs like that. I knew if I ever did do a hard drug, that probably wouldn’t happen. I wouldn’t kill someone while high, though the fact that it maybe could happen was enough for me to stick to alcohol and marijuana. But…as you now know, I didn’t stick to alcohol and weed, I did do a hard drug( a largely unknown one at that), and the improbable did happen. I murdered my friend, and all of it was real, even if I prayed and wished it wasn’t. While all my thoughts came back to me in an instant, Chris, Evan and Anthony all explained to me what happened while I was unconscious.
When I fell, Evan and Anthony picked me up and put me in the back room, knowing I was unconscious. After that, they discussed with Sid and Chris what to do. None of them wanted to go to the police, still in fear and shock over what happened. Anthony finally decided that none of them would tell anyone what happened, and instead they would hide Mark’s body. If I was in the room and conscious, I would of spoke up and said no to that, since I would of wanted to come clean about the murder instead of having the stress and guilt of covering it up. However, I had no say in what happened of course. All four of them took Mark’s body into Anthony’s backyard and buried him six feet under. About halfway through it, both Evan and Chris couldn’t take it anymore and broke down. They really didn’t want anything to do with the murder at all, and if it wasn’t for Sid pulling a gun on them, which no one knew he had, then they would of gone straight to the police. Sid basically held them at gunpoint while helping Anthony with the rest of the burial. I knew he was emotionless. Sure Anthony wanted to cover up the whole ordeal, but that’s because he was freaked out beyond comprehension, same with Chris and Evan. Sid on the other hand, he was of sound mind. Never shed one tear that whole night, and didn’t say much of anything either except “you’re not fucking going anywhere”, when he pulled out his gun. Anthony, Evan and Chris had almost immediate remorse for wanting to cover up the murder, and like I said, if it wasn’t for Sid and his gun, the police would have been notified that night.
Anyways, Anthony and Sid finished up burying Mark, and then went inside to clean the blood soaked living room as best they could. Well, Sid didn’t really do much of anything except stand up against the wall with his gun in his hand like he was watching over hostages. After the living room was cleaned as best as possible, the talk about going to the police sparked up again. This infuriated Sid even more than before. Maybe they thought after some time passed, he’d rethink what he was doing and give in. No. Sid basically went on a tirade of how fucked over he would get with accomplice to murder, drug possession, possession with intent to sell, hiding a crime, and possessing an unlicensed firearm. Instead, his plan was to cover up the crime more. Sid went into the kitchen and found a pair of latex gloves and put them on, then said he drive Mark’s car into the lake so it would appear that that’s how he died. The latex gloves were so his DNA or fingerprints wouldn’t be found on the steering wheel. Before anyone could argue against it, Sid walked out of the house and open Mark’s car which was already unlocked, and took out his keys from the center console and drove off. About fifteen minutes after that, Sid called Anthony to tell him the car had been dumped, so there was no longer anything to worry about. Finally about a half hour after that is where I woke up and then found all of that out. After Sid left, Evan, Chris and Anthony wanted to go to the police and confess what happened, but they instead waited until I was awake. I had no objection to that. Before we left, I went out to the backyard where Mark was buried. The sun was shining on me, and I didn’t exactly know why. Maybe it was because I had no intention on covering up the murder, and if there was a god, it was him shining down on me for that decision. Instead however, the sun should have been shining on Mark’s grave, because he was the one to not do anything wrong. I didn’t laugh at my stupidity of thinking he was a demon, instead I thought of what would of happened if I never took the 2CA-FLY. I probably would of still woken up dazed and confused, knowing for sure it was just another typical hangover. When I would stumble from whatever room I passed out in, I wouldn’t see any blood, and I would been on my way home to rest and recover till the next day.
We went to the police station shortly afterwards and told them everything that happened, including Sid getting rid of Mark’s car. We spent the whole day in a holding cell while the police basically went on a manhunt for Sid. Around 8:00 that night, they brought him in, and the very next morning we awaited trial. I couldn’t sleep that whole time, the images of the previous night kept playing over and over in my head on a seemingly endless loop. All I wanted was for none of those events to of really happened, but the most retribution I would get was through my appropriate sentencing. Our trial lasted only two days, and after that our fates were sealed. Anthony, Evan, and Chris each got two years in jail for attempting to hide the murder even though we all confessed. Sid however, wasn’t so lucky and ended up getting life in prison for all the charges he thought he would get: drug possession, possession with intent to sell, possessing an unlicensed firearm, attempting to hide a murder, plus destroying evidence of the murder and for threatening with a deadly weapon, which was from when he held Evan and Chris at gunpoint. Me, I got 25 years in prison for the murder, and mandatory psychiatric evaluation because the whole situation really did a hit on my mental health. Even six months after the whole ordeal, I still think about it everyday. When I get out of jail I’m done with drugs and alcohol of any kind. It’s not worth it anymore to me. When I began this story, I said I basically went through hell and back that night. Though that night has come and passed, I still am in Hell. Maybe not physically, but emotionally and mentally. I also said this story had no good ending. Hopefully. one day all of that can change.