climb too high (standard:drama, 17232 words)
Author: snyrt	Added: Dec 16 2001	Views/Reads: 3165/2288	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A bit of auto-fiction about a sociopath who takes wrong turns into drugs after seeking treatment.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

to the left and see a large bed with a blanket made of monkscloth.  I 
love monkscloth since it is what my childhood blankie was made of.  In 
the bed, is Andy and someone else whose face I cannot see.  I crawl 
into bed with my face towards the door.  I close my eyes and fall into 
a deep sleep. 

*               *               * 

I awake in my cell.  The old mattress groans under my shifting weight.  
Pop.  I hear another spring jump free of its fitting and jab me in the 
back.  Perhaps at some point I will decide to complain about it, but 
for now, I'll just have to deal.  The room, as always, is blindingly 
bright.  The barred window lets in an amazing amount of light 
considering its miniscule size.  The whitewashed walls reflect this 
light to magnify it at least tenfold.  I get out of bed and make my way 
to my "closet."  The closet consists of a low bar suspended from the 
wall, securely mounted of course.  I lift my pair of pants off the 
wall.  As I put them on, I remember how uncomfortable the canvas is on 
my legs.  I grab my small, white jacket and proceed to the door.  The 
door is a hollow, metal thing placed within a steel frame with a small 
window to the outside in it.  There is no doorknob on the inside.  Only 
a button which, when pushed, illuminates a light outside my door and 
sounds a beep in the control room.  I press the button. 

I hear a faint beep and wait for the nurse to make her way to my room. 
I feel the rumble of the monstrous door of the control room sliding out 
to allow the nurse to pass.  The one good thing about being here is 
that they let us sleep as much as we want.  I hear the click of the 
black, perfectly shined shoes coming down the hallway.  The sound gets 
louder.  Then I see her.  The nurse has come to let me out.  It is 
Sheila.  She is the nicest nurse here.  She is probably about 
thirty-three years old; old enough to know life, but not too old so 
that she forgets her youth.  The lock clicks and the door proceeds to 
open silently. 

"Hello Henry," she says kindly. 

"Hello Sheila," I reply in the exact same tone. 

"Did you sleep well?" 

"Yes, very well, thank you.  Though, I did have quite a strange dream." 

"Oh really?  I'm sure the doctor will love hearing about it.  You do
know that you have your checkup today, don't you?" 

"Yes, I know.  What time is it again?" 

"The checkup is at ten thirty.  Don't worry about missing it.  I'll get
you from the lounge." 

"Then I guess I'll stay in the lounge until then, though I was quite
looking forward to a morning stroll through the gardens." 

"There will be plenty of time for that after the appointment.  Come
along now."  I follow her down the endless hall of white tile.  On the 
way, I admire her flawless hair.  It is trimmed perfectly to her 
shoulders, with a slight curl to it.  It is brown, but with a bit of 
premature gray coming in.  Her dress is spotless.  It was perfectly 
white and pressed, just the way it is supposed to be worn.  The lounge 
now comes into view.  The massive windows are my only connection to the 
outside world for now.  I'm led into the room.  I look around to see 
the other patients sitting in chairs around the room doing pointless 
tasks, and being totally involved with themselves.  They never talk to 
me, and I never talk to them.  I find myself a nice, comfy, blue chair 
facing the window to the gardens.  I sit down.  I look to the small 
table next to me and pick up a book.  I look at the cover.  It's The 
Catcher in the Rye.  I love this book.  I must have read it a thousand 
times, but I may as well read it again.  I open the book and settle in 
for a couple of hours. 

*	*	* 

At ten twenty-five, Sheila comes back.  "Henry, it's time for your
appointment." 

"Okay."  I get up from my chair and make my way over to her. 

"You know, you've been here a while, you may be allowed to leave soon." 

"No I won't.  Technically it's possible, but it won't happen." 

"Oh well, think whatever you want."  I follow her to another hallway. 
This one is also brightly lit, but not nearly as white.  This is the 
administration and treatment hallway.  The floors here are carpeted in 
a dark green brownish color much like that of a river just offshore.  
We stroll down the hallway until we reach a large, brown door with the 
name Dr. Paul Ericson MD printed on the front.  I open the door.  It  
weighs surprisingly little for its size.  I see the doctor sitting at 
his desk in a large, green, leather chair.  His office is all colored 
in earth tones. 

"Please, Henry, have a seat."  I sit down in a comfortable brown
recliner in front of his desk.  "So, how have things been?" he asks in 
a falsely soft manner. 

"They haven't been very good," I say.  "I can't stand the light.  It
makes me uneasy.  I wish you'd turn off the enormous lights in my room 
at night.  I'm finding it increasingly difficult to sleep." 

"Well Henry, we need to keep those lights on so we can see you." 

"You can see me just fine.  And why do you need to see me?" 

"We want to make sure that you're alright." 

"I would be alright if I could sleep." 

"I'll see what I can do, but I can't promise anything.  How has your
mood been?" 

"I've been feeling lonely.  I find this entire process incredibly
amusing.  You say that my lack of moral and social responsibility is a 
danger to society, and you need to fix it.  Yet, for some reason, 
you've isolated me in an environment where I can never improve my 
social abilities.  I never converse with any of these patients because 
most of them are incapable of speech." 

"We need to isolate you so that you learn that isolation is no fun." 

"You've succeeded at that.  I don't like this loneliness, but you're not
going to let me out, are you?" 

"No, we're not going to let you out, because you're not ready to meet
the outside world." 

"I've always been ready to meet the outside world.  I've never done
anything to deserve this isolation and perpetual light." 

"I'll work on the light, and as for the isolation, I have one thing that
may help." 

"Yes?" 

"You are a patient here, but I will grant you that most people here are
not on your same mental plane.  I have a job opening that I will allow 
you to fill.  It involves working with people.  It may speed your 
recovery.  Come back at four o'clock today and I'll tell you all about 
it.  Don't get me wrong.  You're still a patient and you're still 
subject to all the same rules." 

"Okay, no problem." 

"Now, back to the normal checkup.   Have you had any interesting dreams
lately?" 

"Actually, last night's dream was quite strange."  I tell him all about
the dream.  He says nothing, as if deep in thought.  A few minutes go 
by.  I hear a squeak behind me.  Sheila has just opened the door. 

"Henry, it's time to leave.  Did you have a productive session?" 

"Yes, quite productive, thank you."  I walk outside. 

"Sheila," the doctor says, "can you stay here for a minute, please?" 

"Sure, doctor."  She closes the door and I stand outside.  I hear a bit
of murmuring and I try to make out what they are saying.  Suddenly I 
hear Sheila exclaim under her breath: "You're going to let him do 
what?"  I can tell that they are talking about my new job.  I wish I 
knew what it was that I would be doing. 

Sheila emerges from the room. 

"You're going to report back to the doctor at four this afternoon.  You
have time for a nice stroll through the gardens."  I follow her to the 
lounge. It's only eleven o'clock.  I walk towards the door that 
separates the lounge from a small wooden deck.  No one is on the deck 
today.  The door is stuck in the frame.  It is a wooden door and it 
must have swelled in the humidity.  I shove my knee into the door to 
get it to move.  When it opens, I feel a rush of cool air.  I walk out 
onto the wooden deck. It creaks as I walk over to the opposite corner 
to the stairway.  There are nails popping up from the beams.  The deck 
hasn't been well maintained.  I meander down the sloping steps into a 
small patch of grass surrounded by tall hedgerows.  There is one break 
in the hedgerows through which I pass.  I emerge between two long 
hedgerows.  This maze is supposed to get us to think more clearly, but 
all it does is piss the hell out of me.  Nevertheless, I love to come 
here and reflect upon my time in the hospital.  It has been pretty bad 
here in the past few months, but the worst part is not knowing when 
I'll get to leave.  I have nothing to do here... I have no friends.  I 
have nobody to talk to, which, I guess, is the whole reason I'm here.  
Damn, I think they make sense.  I hate when that happens. 

*               *               * 

"Henry, it's four o' clock... Time for your appointment with Dr.
Ericson," says Sheila in a kind voice. 

"Wow, time really flies when you're lost in a maze." 

"Yes, I suppose it does.  Come on now, we must get you to the doctor's
office."  I follow Sheila out through the hedgerows of the maze, up the 
steps, across the deck and the lounge, and down the administrative 
hallway.  We reach the doctor's office and I enter.  I make my way to 
the recliner.  As I settle back the doctor begins to speak to me. 

"I told you I had a special assignment for you.  Now it's time for you
to find out what it is.  Again, I must stress that this does not mean 
that you are allowed any new privileges.  The only privilege you get 
from this is that you get to interact with people who are closer to 
your mental plane." 

"Okay, okay... I get it.  Now, what's my job?" I ask anxiously. 

"You ready?  Okay.  It seems that while you've been here, you've learned
quite a bit about the human psyche.  I've seen you reading my old 
textbooks when you're out in the lobby.  I've noticed from our sessions 
that though you can't communicate with other people, you are quite good 
at analyzing them." 

"Yeah, so I read your books.  What's my job?" 

"You are going to be a therapist." 

"A what?  You're actually going to let a mental patient try to
straighten people out?  I'm not quite seeing the logic." 

"You're not going to be dealing with truly mentally disturbed people. 
You'll just be dealing with people who are having problems and need to 
talk to someone." 

"Ah, okay.  I can do that.  I love to do that.  When do I start?" 

"In about fifteen minutes." 

"Wow." 

"Yeah, but I think you're ready.  I've got a small room set up down the
hall.  It's pretty small and bare, but I think it will be okay.  I 
haven't had enough money to really furnish it, so all you've got is a 
couple of brown chairs facing each other." 

"I can deal with that.  Who's my first - do I call them patients?" 

"Call them whatever you want." 

"So who's my first... person?" 

"Her name is Danielle Bayless.  I've never worked with her before.  I
just know that she's had some family problems in her life.  Have fun.  
Let me show you to your new office."  He leads me farther down the 
administrative hallway to a small door.  It looks like the door to my 
room, but it's an old, faded shade of dark blue.  The door is heavy.  
The inside isn't well lit.  There is one light in the high ceiling.  
There are two windows that face the gardens.  These give me quite a bit 
of light.  There is a door opposite the one through which I entered.  
There are two leather chairs sitting on the carpeted floor.  I select 
one of the recliners and settle in.  All I can think about it what the 
hell I'm going to do.  I've only helped out friends.  Maybe I should 
just become friends with everybody I treat.  That would work.  I wonder 
about this for fifteen minutes.  I hear a click at the door opposite 
the one I entered.  The door opens slowly and I see a girl.  She is 
about seventeen, five feet seven inches tall, 130 pounds. 

"Hello, my name is Henry.  You must be Danielle." 

"Yep, that's me.  That entrance is mad confusing," she says in a
somewhat humorous voice while motioning over her shoulder to the door 
through which she entered. 

"Really?  I've never been there." 

"You've never been to the entrance of the hospital?" 

"No, I'm afraid I haven't." 

"How'd you get in here then?" 

"Through that door," I say motioning to the door through which I
entered. 

"What's back there?" 

"The administrative hallway of the hospital and the dormitory." 

"You must go through the entrance to leave though." 

"No, I don't leave.  I haven't left in months." 

"Are you a mental case?" 

"Yes, as a matter of fact I am." 

"HOLY SHIT!  THEY STUCK ME IN HERE WITH A FUCKING FRUIT BASKET!" she
screams as she beats on the door that had locked behind her.  Doctor 
Ericson rushes in. 

"Danielle, what's wrong?" he asks in a soothing voice. 

"You shoved me in here with a fucking nutcase!" she said trying to calm
down, but still wired from her outburst. 

"Yes, Henry is a mental patient, but he's not dangerous in any way,
shape, or form.  He's a very nice man.  I assigned him the job of being 
a therapist.  It will help his treatment and he is quite good at 
analyzing people's thoughts.  Will you be okay with him?" 

She begins to calm down, and while still panting and looking at me
uneasily, she replies: "Yes.  I suppose I'll be okay." 

"Okay, well then I'll leave and let you guys get to know each other." 
Danielle settles into the other chair.  She's still uncomfortable, but 
she is calming down. 

"I'm sorry I frightened you.  Let me give you some background on myself.
 My name is Henry Rodriguez.  I'm 16 years old.  I've been in this 
hospital for 7 months now.  I'm in the hospital because they say I'm a 
sociopath.  Do you know what that is?" 

"No." 

"Well, it means that I have little sense of moral or social
responsibility.  It means I like to be withdrawn from the world and 
don't like to communicate with other people.  Since I must communicate 
with you, this is a great controlled environment in which I can 
practice normal social behavior.  Now tell me about yourself." 

"I'm Danielle Michelle Bayless.  I guess I should give you my basic life
story now, shouldn't I?" 

"Yes, that would be nice." 

"Okay.  My mom got pregnant with me when she was 15.  My dad was a drug
addict and so was she.  They got married and stayed together until last 
year when my father died.  My dad used to beat my mom, but she never 
did anything about it.  My mom is still on drugs, but not too many.  
When I was six, my uncle raped my cousin and me.  We never told anyone. 
Well, I guess I never brought it up until now." 

"Painful memory, huh?" 

"Yes, very." 

"I can understand.  I've never been raped, but I've been in helpless
situations before." 

"NO!  You can't understand.  Rape is even worse than a helpless
situation.  You're helpless and you're being violated.  The only thing 
I can think of that may be worse would be Chinese Water Torture." 

"Hmm.  Chinese water torture eh?  Never tried it.  I guess it's bad" 

"Damn straight it's bad!" 

"I know, I know... I'm just messin' around.  I'm trying to lighten the
mood in here a bit." 

"Okay.  Now, what's your story?  Why are you in here?" 

"Well, I guess you could say that I'm depressed.  I was shoved in this
hellhole because I was told I wasn't able to deal with society.    I'd 
spend my entire day sitting in my basement, with the shades closed, in 
the dark, surfing the net.  If I got bored I'd watch TV or go into my 
back room and spin for hours on end.  People would sometimes come over 
to my house.  I don't know why, but I wouldn't want them there.  I just 
couldn't wait for them to leave.  If I went to someone else's house I 
would be okay there, but I'd still want to go home.  I was just not 
able to deal with others.  My doctors decided to put me on some 
anti-depressants and see if that helped.  It helped me be a happier 
sociopath.  They then decided that I was "the quiet one" that always 
ended up snapping and running through his neighborhood with a 
submachine gun.  They were afraid that I would eventually release my 
bottled up anger and kill people.  They shoved me in a mental 
institution where I get even less human interaction.  Most of the 
people here are schizos and don't need any other companionship.  Nobody 
ever talks to me.  I sit here and read all day.  This morning I pointed 
out to Dr. Ericson that they were just making my condition worse by 
isolating me in this way.  He said he had a job for me.  This is the 
job.  I talk to you.  It helps my social skills and I can help you." 

"How are you going to help me?  You're just a random mental patient." 

"I'm bored here, so I always read.  In the first week I went through all
the normal books.  I then started reading Dr. Ericson's old psychology 
books and I've learned quite a bit.  He thinks I'm capable of helping 
you and analyzing your mind." 

"I think it's all a crock of shit.  I'm leaving."  With that last remark
she storms out the door.  This violent mood swing must be one of the 
things with which she needs help.  Dr. Ericson, having heard the 
commotion enters from the other side of the room. 

"What happened?" 

"It seems that Ms. Bayless there doesn't appreciate being counseled by a
mental patient.  Perhaps you should go talk to her." 

"I think I will."  Dr. Ericson runs out the door towards the main
entrance.  I hope he gets her to come back.  After sitting in that 
stupid room for about ten minutes I decide to leave.  I could leave the 
hospital right now.  I see the door to the main entrance.  It's not 
worth it.  I return to the administrative hallway, make my way back to 
the lobby, sit down, and read. 

*	*	* 

A nurse wakes me up.  I'd fallen asleep while reading.  This nurse isn't
Sheila.  Damn.  It's that bitch Victoria.  She's old and fat.  Her gray 
hair is knotted and hangs to her shoulders. 

"Henry, have you eaten today?" 

"No, I'm afraid I haven't.  I must have forgotten all about eating." 

"YOU MUST EAT!  Come, I will get you some gruel.  Since you haven't
eaten all day I will have to give you a double portion." 

"No, really, that's okay.  I'm not hungry.  I didn't burn any calories
today."  The gruel really sucks here.  Sheila hooks me up with 
McDonald's sometimes.  But not this bitch.  I follow her to the corner 
of the lobby between the hallway to my room and the administrative 
hallway.  It is directly opposite the door to the deck.  In the corner 
is the kitchen.  I'm led to the counter where I am handed two bowls of 
gruel by a rather large, cruel looking lady.  HAHA!  I just got that.  
Cruel Gruel.  That's what I should call her.  I grab my steaming bowls 
of gruel and settle back in my seat.  Victoria sits right next to me to 
make sure that I eat all my gruel.  I can see the sun setting over the 
city beyond the gardens.  I wish I could get to that city.  It must be 
glorious to be "normal" and get to eat stuff other than what's given to 
you by Cruel Gruel.  The gruel needs a little salt.  It's too bad that 
we're not allowed to have salt shakers.  They're considered dangerous.  
I have to go back over to Cruel Gruel and have her salt my gruel for 
me.  I walk over to Cruel Gruel. 

"May I have a little salt please?" 

"Are you saying that my gruel isn't good enough for you?  Are you saying
that my gruel needs salt?" she says with rage.  "Fine, here's your 
salt."  She throws a bunch of salt packets at me.  I take one out and 
use half of it on the gruel.  I leave the rest of the salt there on the 
counter.  I walk slowly back to my seat wondering if Cruel Gruel is 
going to throw something at my head.  I sit down.  Victoria is still 
sitting in the seat next to mine.  I sheepishly eat my gruel.  I feel 
uncomfortable being watched while I eat.  After reluctantly swallowing 
two bowls of some of the most disgusting gruel I've ever had, Victoria 
snatches the bowls and spoon away from me. 

"Now you must go to sleep," she commands. 

"But I'm not even tired yet.  Can I take a book with me?" 

"No!  Books rot the brain.  They put images of places you'll never reach
into your head.  They only deepen your depression." 

"Books are the fuel of intelligent thought," I argue. 

"Intelligent thoughts have been had without books." 

"But the only intelligent thoughts that are taken seriously are backed
by books." 

"I refuse to argue.  Go to your dormitory.  You may not take any books
with you."  She grabs me by the arm, turns me away from the view of the 
beautifully lit cityscape, and hauls me to my room.  Once we leave the 
carpeting of the lounge I stop resisting.  The click of her shoes on 
the white tile floor is intimidating.  We reach my room and I enter 
hoping for darkness, but as always, the lights are on.  I settle into 
my bed.  I sit sideways with my back propped up on the wall.  It's time 
to think. 

How the hell did I get here?  What happened?  Why am I stuck in this
crap-ass place?  I wonder how Danielle fared after our little 
"encounter."  I didn't go to the bathroom today.  Is that okay?  Maybe 
Victoria will let me out to go to the bathroom.  Yeah, right.  Why did 
I even consider the possibility  that Victoria would be nice?  I'm 
asking a lot of questions tonight.  I wonder why.  I hate this place.  
I need to get out.  What would happen if I escaped?.  Who would come 
after me?  What would they do to me?  I don't get music here.  What's 
up with that?  I hadn't noticed the lack of music until just now.  Next 
time I see the doctor I'll have to ask about that.  I also miss my 
computer.  Music, my sister, and my cat were all that kept me sane.  My 
cat died, my music was  taken away, I haven't seen or spoken to my 
sister in over eight months, and they wonder why I had to be shoved in 
here.  Okay, enough thinking for tonight.  It's time for some sleep. 

I settle into my lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala laaaaaa, lalalala. 
Oh, I'm sorry.  I seem to have slipped off there.  I settle into my bed 
and hear more and more springs pop beneath my weight.  I shut my eyes 
trying to block out the blinding persistence of light that tries to 
penetrate my lids.  I see the red glow of blood through my eyelid.  I'm 
used to this color now.  I've gone to sleep looking at it for months 
now.  I wonder what tomorrow will bring; most likely nothing of 
interest. 

*	*	* 

Once again, I awake in my cell.  I've slept in quite a bit.  The sun is
so high that it is not visible through my window.  It must be nearly 
noon.  I walk towards my closet to put on my clothes.  They aren't on 
the rack.  I look down.  I'm still wearing them.  I must have slept in 
them.  I shuffle, still groggy, over to the door and press the button 
to get the nurse down here to let me out for the day.  I feel sick.  
I'm lightheaded.  I steady myself against the door-frame to keep from 
falling down.  I hear the click click click of the nurse's shoes making 
their way towards my room.  The clicking stops.  I look up.  Victoria 
is standing at the door.  Shit.  I don't want to have to deal with her 
again.  I won't tell her that I feel like crap.  She'll just try to 
solve the problem with another double dose from Cruel Gruel. 

"Come on," ordered Victoria. 

"Good morning to you too, Victoria.  Charming as always, I see." 

"Shut up.  If you don't watch out you'll end up in solitary." 

"As if I'm not solitary enough." 

"Just come on.  I'm tired of seeing your ugly face."  I shuffle behind
her with my head towards the floor.  We walk down to the lobby. 

"Do I have any appointments today, Victoria?" 

"No." 

"Okay, good.  I'll be in the gardens if you need me."  I amble over to
the deck, wiping sleep out of my eyes as I go.  I enter the maze and 
venture to some of the paths that are nearly two hundred yards away 
from the building.  As I wander, the lightheadedness returns.  
Everything becomes double.  The shrubbery becomes blurred and begins to 
move.  I find myself stumbling, clutching onto the bushes as I go.  I 
grab wildly for something to support me, but the branches always break. 
 I lose my balance and thrash wildly to regain it.  I grab for anything 
I can find.  Nothing finds my hands.  I land softly on the ground.  
Unhurt, I begin to get up.  I can't get up.  My head feels detached.  I 
feel like the guy in the cold medicine commercial where the medicine 
makes him sleepy and his head turns into a balloon and floats off his 
body.  My head begins to spin.  The dizzying effect overpowers me. 

*	*	* 

I am skiing.  I am on a gentle slope, yet going surprisingly fast.  I
see the towering peak above me.  My friends turn around to ski the 
other way.  I decide not to turn.  I decide that I will take the risky 
slope.  It is hardly inclined and powdery, but I pick up speed rather 
fast.  I know that this is not the best decision I've made in my life.  
I know nothing good can come of this.  I feel a slight rumble under my 
feet.  I must have hit some chunks of ice.  I see a man skiing far 
ahead of me having no trouble on this slope.  The rumble strikes me 
again, only stronger.  I glance back only to see a wall of white 
barreling towards me.  Avalanche.  I'm hit by the wall of snow with a 
surprising force.  I'm tumbled on and on.  I see streaks of white and 
gray flying past my eyes as I fly head over heels through the wrath of 
the avalanche.  After a second that feels like an eternity my body 
comes to rest.  I am buried in the snow.  I see the light from above 
pierce the snow.  I can't be more than a foot under the surface.  I 
don't have the urge to get out. 

My mom's going to kill me.  Everybody will be really mad that I did
this. 

My mind goes blank and my worries all go away.  I'm totally self
absorbed.  I'm experiencing a type of peace that can only be felt once 
in life... At the end. 

What a peaceful way to go. 

I feel no pain.  I feel nothing.  Suffocation isn't as bad as I thought.
 I feel my chest being compressed, but no shortness of breath is 
sensed.  I see doves.  The doves are in my snowy tomb with me.  They 
are watching over me.  Everything fades to black.  Nothing exists.  I 
am at total peace.  No worries, no life.  There is no savior, there is 
no tunnel let alone a light to put at the end.  I am an independent 
entity.  I am nothing, yet I am existence.  Suddenly everything makes 
sense to me.  I am no longer restricted to the confines of a human 
brain.  I comprehend the universe.  I understand everything.  I know 
nothing.  There is nothing else left to do.  I drift.  I drift.  I 
drift in the sea of my subconscious. 

Part Two 

--------------------------- 

"Henry.  Henry.  Wake up."  I open my eyes.  The light overwhelms me, so
I must keep my open eyes limited to slits.  I see Dr. Ericson standing 
over me.  "Henry.  Wake up." 

"Arguhg" I reply.  It is the only sound I can seem to make right now. 

"Henry?!  Are you okay?" shouts Dr. Ericson ecstatically.  He is
absolutely amazed that I'm alive. 

"Yes, I'm fine," I say in a tired voice.  I open my eyes the rest of the
way.  I look around the room.  I'm lying on a bed in a brightly lit 
room.  What's new?  But this isn't my bedroom.  This must be the 
infirmary.  I've never been here before.  Dr. Ericson is looking over 
me from my left, near my shoulder.  Victoria is down near my feet on my 
right with a worried look on her face.  Cruel Gruel is standing about 
five feet from the foot of my bed with a bowl in her hand, it must be 
gruel.  I lift my head off the table.  I see Sheila leaning against the 
side of the doorway with a half worried, half amused look on her face.  
She must find their overreactions quite funny. 

"I think he has food poisoning," says Victoria.  Cruel Gruel blows up. 
Her teeth clench, her eyes squint, and she lets out a horrible growl as 
her body tenses and she begins to shake with anger. 

"Food poisoning?  You think my gruel gave him food poisoning?  How dare
you!"  I see Cruel Gruel lift the heavy, plastic bowl over her head and 
launch it in the direction of Victoria.  I hear a crack, a smoosh, and 
a heavy thump. I sit up.  And swing my feet over the left side of the 
bed.  Everybody seems to be frozen in place.  The room is in utter 
silence.  Dr. Ericson is appalled.  Sheila seems to have lost her 
smirk.  She is horrified.  I look down past my legs.  I see a woman 
with the right side of her head bashed in.  Her eyes are closed 
tightly.  Her arms are sprawled to either side.  A pool of blood 
envelops her body.  Nobody says a word.  The only sound is the nearly 
silent drip of blood from Victoria's head.  Her gray hair is matted.  I 
remember all the times I've wished she would just die.  I imagined that 
I would look at her, and be glad that I would never have deal with her 
again.  I feel pity.  I feel sadness.  It's somewhat ironic that 
everyone was afraid that I was dead, and now Victoria is dead.  Cruel 
Gruel runs from the room in tears.  The realization that she has just 
taken the life of another human has destroyed her. 

"Sheila, please take Henry out of the room and tend to him outside.  I
will deal with this," says Dr. Ericson putting on a front of calmness.  
Sheila looks away from the body as she enters the room.  I scoot down 
the bed so as not to tread on the body, or on the puddle of crimson 
fluid.  As I slide off the bed I turn to Dr. Ericson. 

"See what happens when I come into contact with people?  That's why I
stay away from them.  I'm sorry about this."  I receive no response.  I 
stare at the floor as I shuffle from the room.  Sheila puts her arm 
around me and sobs on my shoulder.  "It'll be okay, Sheila.  Don't 
worry about a thing," I say. 

*	*	* 

Cruel Gruel got taken away yesterday.  She'll be charged with murder and
most likely get quite a bit of time in prison.  What will happen with 
our food?  I sit up in my bed, back in my own room.  I shuffle to my 
closet and put on the canvas suit.  I walk to the door.  I am more 
rested than usual.  I press the button to be released.  I hear the 
click of shoes coming down the hall.  A strange feeling runs up my 
spine.  I no longer wonder if Victoria is about to show up at my door.  
I no longer dread seeing her face.  You'd think that the place would 
seem friendlier now that we've gotten rid of two of the meanest people 
in the world, but it just feels eerie.  It's a bit too nice now.  Like 
some sort of crazy happy land, where people get to talk to bunnies and 
eat marshmallow pies while frolicking in a fountain spewing out 
chocolate milkshakes.  Actually, I bet there's at least one person in 
this place who's in that world right now.  Man, it'd be entertaining to 
be able to be in such a hallucinogenic state all day. 

Sheila's face shows up at my door.  I hear her unlocking the door.  She
opens it and holds it while I walk through.  As soon as I get out in 
the hall, I get a strange feeling.  Oh man.  I sprint to the bathroom.  
My feet are flying out behind me.  I just see streaks where the tiles 
are supposed to be.  The world is a blur and I'm focused on that one 
point that is my goal.  As I get to the door, I reach out my hand to 
grab the door-frame and swing myself around into the bathroom.  I slide 
across the recently mopped floors and smack my hip on the sink that 
brings me to a stop.  I push off and fly into a stall.  I drop to my 
knees and begin to vomit violently.  It's not food, it's blood.  I'm 
vomiting blood.  There are strange chunks in it.  This can't be a good 
thing.  I keep vomiting.  I don't know where all of it keeps coming 
from, but it just keeps coming and coming.  After about 20 seconds of a 
single heave, I'm out of stuff.  Here comes the bad part.  Here come 
the dry heaves.  I feel my stomach contract until it must be the size 
of a baseball.  My back arches spasmodically.  My body bucks.  Sheila 
shows up next to me.  She grabs me, throws me to the ground, and shoves 
a pill down my throat. Everything fades to black. 

*	*	* 

I'm back on the table in the infirmary.  I seem to be spending a lot of
time here.  Sheila hovers over me with a concerned look on her face.  
Dr. Ericson is standing on the other side of the bed. 

"Henry?  Are you okay?" asks the doctor. 

"I think so.  What happened?" 

"You seem to have gotten some sort of bug.  I don't know what it is, but
you've got some sort of tears in your stomach wall.  We don't know what 
it's from.  We think it was caused by the stress of being kept here." 

"So you're letting me out?" 

"No, not yet.  You're still not better.  We've decided to make this
place a bit more hospitable (Ha, get it?  The hospital is going to be 
more hospitable?  Sorry, I thought it was funny) for you since you'll 
be in here for a few more months." 

"How do you plan on making this place better for me?" 

"We've contacted your parents and they're on their way.  We're going to
move you into a special room.  You'll be able to turn out the lights, 
have books, and listen to music.  That should help with your 
condition." 

"May I see my new room?  I'm quite tired." 

"Sure, follow me," says Sheila. 

We meander down the administrative hallway.  I've never been to the end
of the hall before.  There is a large, gray, metal door at the end.  
Sheila reaches it before me and opens it, exposing a staircase much 
like those in schools.  It has the black steps and the railings that 
make sliding down so much fun.  I remember when i was still in school 
and I would hang one arm over the top rail, plant my butt on the lower 
rail, and fly down.  Sheila ascends the schoolhouse steps.  We are on 
our way to a floor that I've only seen from the gardens.  We reach the 
top and encounter another gray, metal door.  Sheila opens that door and 
holds it open for me.  We are immediately in my new room. 

"This used to be for storage, but we've cleaned it out and now it can be
your room.  We wish we could make it better, but this is as good as we 
can do while still keeping you here." 

"This room will be awesome once I have some music.  All I want is some
music.  And some books.  Books would be - UGH!"  Lightheaded again.  Oh 
man.  NOT AGAIN!!!!  The new room spins.  I start to fall forward.  I 
see Sheila's worried face.  I see her arms reach out to catch me.  It 
doesn't work.  I hit the floor face up. 

"Henry?  Henry?  Are you alright?"  I hear her talking to me but I can't
respond.  I start to slip away. 

*	*	* 

Bed, mmmmmm, bed.  Comfy comfy bed.  The ceiling is plain.  The room is
dark.  DARK!  The darkness is eerie yet pleasant. 

Creak. 

The door opens slightly.  My parents. 

"Hi Mom!  Hi Dad!" 

"Henry!  How are you?" asks my mother frantically.  "We haven't seen you
in so long.  Are you okay?  Did they treat you well?  The doctor said 
you've made tremendous progress."  She talks at a mile a minute. 

My father jumps in.  "Actually, Henry," my mother is a bit jittery. 
She's probably upset that she's been interrupted.  "The doctor said 
that you've made such progress that you can come home now.  You'll have 
to stay under professional supervision.  You'll have to have checkups 
from time to time, but he thinks you're all set." 

"Really?  I can come home?"  Sheila enters the room.  I turn to her. 
"Sheila, is it really true?  Can I really go home?" 

Sheila looks at me with happiness in her eyes.  I sense a touch of
regret.   "Yes, yes Henry.  You can go home now."  I see her eyes water 
a little.  I've been here a while, and Sheila and I have grown quite 
close. 

"What brought this on?  What made the doctor decide to let me go home?" 
I'm still astonished that I'm being released.  It seemed that they'd 
never let me go. 

"Well, I don't really know why he's letting you go.  It's just kindof a
spontaneous decision.  But the important part is that you can go home." 


"When can I leave?" 

"Just go out to the car, Henry," my father says gladly.  "We've already
signed you out.  We're ready to go." 

I'm overwhelmed by the speed with which all of this happened.  "Okay,
I'll be out in a couple of minutes," I say to my parents.  My parents 
turn their backs and quickly exit.  I hear their shoes tap tap tap on 
the stairs.  Sheila looks as me. 

"I'm going to miss you."  Sheila's eyes water. 

"I'm going to miss you, too."  I feel a lump in my throat.  "You've been
the nicest person in the world to me since I've been here.  You've been 
taking care of me, and we went through a lot." 

"Yes, we did go through a lot.  I don't think I could've dealt with
Victoria being killed by - what was your name for her?" 

"Cruel Gruel." 

"Quite fitting.  But I don't think that I could have dealt with Cruel
Gruel killing Victoria if you hadn't been there to assure me that it 
was all going to be okay. 

"I don't think I could have dealt with being here had it not been for
you.  You brought me McDonald's.  You never bitched me out like 
Victoria did." 

"Well, I tried to be nice." 

"You certainly succeeded.  Thank you.  I have to get going... My parents
are waiting." 

"Goodbye, Henry." 

"No, no Sheila.  This isn't a goodbye.  I hate goodbye's.  This is
simply a fare thee well.  So fare thee well, Sheila." 

"Okay then, fare thee well, Henry."  I step toward Sheila and open my
arms.  We give each other a loving hug. 

I step back after a few seconds, look at her, nod my head, and walk past
her to the door. 

Part Three 

----------------------------- 

I arrive home.  It's quite different than when I left.  My room has been
cleaned out, the basement has been rearranged, the kitchen has been 
renovated.  It's a strange environment. 

I run to the computer.  I log on to the internet and see the screennames
of all the people that I used to know.  I message them.  Many of them 
have almost forgotten about me.  Some of them still remember and miss 
me.  I'm going to get to return to school now.  What an experience that 
will be.  I check my e-mail.  1129 new messages.  I'm not even going to 
try to sort those out tonight. 

I look in the back room.  Ah, my turntables, my music, my passion.  I
walk to them, turn on the amp, turn on the mixer, and begin to slip 
into a deep trance.  I haven't felt this way in a long long time.  I 
become the music, I adjust the beats, I keep it flowing.  I keep the 
progression building until the powerful climax and the serene crash.  I 
stay back there spinning for five hours. 

I go to the couch.  I sit down and watch TV.  Oh, how I've missed TV. 
I've missed the infomercials, the sitcoms, and the really bad sci-fi 
series. 

*	*	* 

I hop in my car.  It's 6:47 AM.  I start it up.  Oh, it feels so strange
to be driving again.  I haven't touched the car in so long.  It takes 
me a second to get used to the clutch again and pop it in gear without 
stalling, but I pull it off.  By the time I reach the end of the street 
I've got the hang of it again.  I look at the bus stop.  People are 
standing there.  I continue my drive to school. 

I pull into the driveway of the school.  Man this place is big.  There
are people all around.  Social overload.  I go to the parking lot, get 
out, and lock the door.  I don't quite know where to go.  I got my 
schedule already and I know where my classes are, but I'm not sure if 
I'm ready to go and see my friends.  Most of them don't know where I've 
been or why I'm back.  Into the arts building I go.  The coolest thing 
about this building is that one of the hallways is inclined.  We used 
to ride scooters down it before school.  I look over at the door where 
we used to hang out.  There are my friends.  Jesse, Emily, Andy, Billy, 
Jenna, Monica, the other Emily.  I say hi from the bottom of the hall.  
Most of them don't recognize me right away.  My old shaggy hair had 
been shaved off at the hospital. 

"HOLY CRAP!  HENRY?  WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" Emily shouts.  She runs up
and gives me a huge hug.  Everyone else crowds around me like I'm some 
sort of novelty.  There are tons and tons and tons of questions.  I 
can't answer most of them.  There are voices coming from all sides.  
There are people everywhere.  Oh no, I'm lightheaded, the crowd begins 
to spin.  I see all the faces turning from happy to horrified as they 
see my eyes begin to roll and my body begin to collapse.  Bang.  The 
floor. 

*	*	* 

Crap, back in the hospital. 

"Hey, Henry," says Sheila.  She spoke in an odd tone.  She was concerned
but somewhat glad that I had returned. 

"Hey, what's up?" I reply. 

"Nothing much.  How are you doing?" 

"Well, apparently, not that well." 

A large machine is wheeled over to my bed and placed above me.  It looks
like some sort of an x-ray machine.  It has a large, sturdy base which 
slips under the bed.  It has an arm with a camera that goes over the 
bed and can be lowered onto me. 

"Okay, Henry," says Dr. Ericson, "we're going to take a little picture
of your stomach wall and find out exactly what's wrong with it." 

"Okeydoke.  Do what you've got to do.  I'd really like to get out of
here and go back home." 

The arm is lowered until it is just a few inches away from my abdomen. 
Dr. Ericson puts a lead sheet over my crotch and thighs.  He puts 
another one at the top of my chest. 

I see the doctor and Sheila walk out of the room to a little shielded
area where they can watch through protective glass.  I always feel a 
little uneasy when there's a machine about to shoot me with rays and 
everybody else runs away.  I see Dr. Ericson flip a switch.  The 
machine grunts and growls for a few moments, then I hear a click.  Dr. 
Ericson and Sheila come back in the room, remove the lead sheets and 
take the machine out of the room.  I just sit there on the bed.  Sheila 
takes some film out of the machine and goes away, I guess she's going 
to develop it.  Dr. Ericson takes out a little notepad and begins 
writing some things down.  I just sit on the bed and stare at the 
ceiling.  I begin to doze off.  Sheila walks to the door but doesn't 
enter. 

"Dr. Ericson, could you come take a look at this, please?"  Wow, that's
exactly what I want to hear (sarcasm).  I had to point out the sarcasm 
because I know that I'm really bad at detecting it and I didn't want 
you to be just as confused.  I'm somewhat worried that the x-ray is 
weird. 

What if the x-ray shows something that can't be treated?  What if the
x-ray shows that I'm about to die?  Well, death would be a relief.  I 
don't really like living in this world.  We're so insignificant here.  
People just  stress out about everything.  Nobody needs to worry.  
Don't worry, be happy.  I don't like having everybody go to hospitals 
and try to live a "normal" life.  I don't like that idea.  I'd rather 
just go through life chilling with friends and passing out a whole lot. 
It gives me time to have some really weird dreams. 

The doctor and Sheila come back in. 

"Henry, can you come into my office, please?" Dr. Ericson says as if he
is the bearer of bad news. 

"Um, sure.  I'll be right there."  Dr. Ericson steps out of the room. 
"Sheila, am I going to be okay?  Is everything okay with the x-ray?  
He's just going to talk about how normal it is, right?" 

"Sheila's eyes are watering.  Everything will - sniff - be okay." 

I step out of the infirmary.  I take a left and walk down the hall with
the nice clicking floor.  I pass my original room.  The lights have 
finally been turned off.  I continue to the lounge.  I see the kitchen 
where Cruel Gruel used to yell at me for wanting salt.  I take a right 
down the administrative hallway.  I continue to the office.  As I enter 
I just head straight for the recliner. 

"So how does it look?" I ask. 

"It's a bit strange.  You know how we told you that you had tears in
your stomach wall?  Well, you don't.  Apparently you just have horrible 
stress from your interactions with people.  That's why you had the 
fainting spell when all those people were around you." 

"So what's that mean?  I'm stuck here again?  I don't think that whole
thing with Danielle really worked out." 

"Actually, we're going for a different plan here.  You know how when you
get into a cold pool, if you just go in a step at a time, you reach a 
certain point where your balls freeze off and you just have to get out 
and it takes a really long time to get back in?" 

"Oh, yeah, totally, been there, done that." 

"Well, here's the deal with it.  When you have to get into that cold
pool, the best way to do it is to get on the diving board and throw 
yourself in headfirst.  Once you're in there, you don't even want to 
get out.  You'll be able to handle it.  You're going to dive head first 
into social interactions.  We think you'll do okay.  Unfortunately, you 
will still have these overwhelming fainting spells.  Are you able to do 
anything as you fall?  Like perhaps just shove a pill in your mouth?" 

"I think I can do it.  Why?" 

"You know those pills we always give you?  They help you out.  I don't
know how they work since I don't actually know what's wrong with you .  
My diagnosis has been disproved by the x-ray.  We're just going to give 
you a lot of those pills and when you're on your way down, just pop one 
in your mouth and call me up as soon as you gain consciousness which 
should be in a few seconds." 

"That sounds like a plan.  So are you just gonna hand me a bunch of
pills and let me go home right now?" 

"Yep, here are the pills, just keep them in this little baggie.  It's
easy enough to open that you'll be able to get the pills as soon as you 
get dizzy." 

"Cool cool.  Thanks for all you've done.  I hope I don't have to come
back here for a while." 

"So do I, so do I." 

*	*	* 

Back at home.  Back in my old bed.  Oh, this is great.  It is so warm. 
It is so soft.  It's absolute bliss. 

6:00.  Time to get up.  Shave, grab a bite, brush my teeth, hop in the
car.  I get to school.  I don't try to go see friends.  That water 
might be a little too cold.  I wait on my own in my car with some music 
playing.  I look down at the schedule.  Algebra, History, English, Gym, 
Chemistry, Computer Science, Psychology.  Oh wow, psychology, what a 
fitting class. 

7:15.  I exit the car and meander in the door of the main building.  I
proceed upstairs to Algebra.  I hate math.  I have such a bad 
background in math.  For the first five years of schooling I learned it 
in Spanish.  I'm still learning some of the terms.  Into class.  I grab 
a seat near the back.  I really don't want to call any attention to 
myself.  I'll have to keep a low profile.  7:25.  The bell rings.  Most 
people are already here in the room.  Those who are late are sprinting 
through the door and grabbing the first seats they can find.  The 
teacher is Mrs. Conrad.  She notices me. 

"Um, excuse me, yes, you.  Can you come up here for a second please?"  I
get up out of my seat, feeling all eyes on me.  There are some people 
who know me who are just amazed to see me again.  "Do you have your 
schedule with you?" 

"Yes ma'am.  Here you go," I hand her the small slip of pink paper. 

"Okay, well, welcome to the class."  She picks up a rather thick
rainbow-colored book and hands it to me.  "Here's the textbook.  We're 
on chapter six right now.  You'll need to complete the review sections 
for the previous five chapters so that I know you understand them.  If 
you need help come to me."  She turns to the class.  "Class, we have a 
new student.  This is Henry Rodriguez.  Please offer him a warm 
welcome." 

All eyes are on me.  Lightheaded.  The pocket.  Grab the pill.  There's
the baggie.  The top is open just enough.  Everything becomes a blur.  
People spin and look at me in horror.  I begin to fall, I get my hand 
out of my pocket.  The pill is there.  As I fall on my face I manage to 
put my hand in front of my mouth on the ground.  It makes it just in 
time.  The pill pops in my mouth right as I lose consciousness.  I 
swallow with my last once of energy.  I'm fine.  I stand back up. 

"Excuse me, but I have to go make a phone call."  The class is totally
baffled.  Some think it was a joke.  Some thought that I'd almost died. 
 I'm sure that this would be the talk of the school.  I'd be the "weird 
guy that passed out in front of the class."  I head out the door 
towards the pay phone outside the building.  I reach out to dial Dr. 
Ericson.  Wait, I don't know his number.  I've never called him.  Man, 
what am I going to do.  I hop in my car and rush home.  I'm sure the 
number is posted somewhere by the phone.  I always feel rebellious when 
I leave school during the day.  I get home.  Through the door.  
Straight to the phone.  There's his card hanging on the wall.  I dial.  
It rings 3 times. 

"Dr. Ericson, how can I help you?" 

"Hi, Dr. Ericson, it's Henry." 

"Did you have another fainting spell." 

"Yes, my teacher made me go to the front of the class and then
introduced me.  It was a little too much.  I managed to get the pill in 
my mouth just in time.  I just hit the ground and got back up, then I 
told the teacher I had to go make a call." 

"Are you at school right now?" 

"No, I realized I didn't know your number so I came home to get it." 

"Are you going back to school?" 

"Yes, I am, as soon as I'm done talking to you and I can stop by
7-Eleven and fill my my X-treme gulp." 

"Okay, well, be careful.  I don't want you to faint again today." 

"Oh, I'll be careful, but I'll probably faint.  There will be a lot of
attention on me today." 

"Just be careful and keep a low profile.  Try to only talk to your
closest friends right now.  The pool seems a bit too cold right now." 

"Right, I'll try.  Thanks.  The pills were life savers, literally." 

"You're welcome, and we'll keep trying to beat the need for them." 

"Yes, that's my main goal right now.  I'm gonna get going now.  I hope I
don't have to talk to you anymore today." 

"Don't bother calling me anymore when it happens.  We've found that the
pills work.  Just call me if it's especially bad." 

"Okay.  Bye." 

"Bye." 

*	*	* 

I hop in my car, put on some Rufus Wainwright, and drive up to 7-Eleven.
 I get out, grab my X-treme gulp.  Go to the back corner, get myself 52 
ounces of Dr. Pepper.  I can't disgrace my X-treme gulp with any lesser 
beverage.  I walk up to the counter.  I plop down my 82 cents and walk 
out the door. 

I get to school right as lunch is beginning.  I can't deal with that
deluge of students.  I go sit on the curb and nurse my gulp.  I reflect 
on what I've been through and what is still to come. 

I've gone through isolation in the hospital.  I got a little too used to
it.  I faint under pressure of social interaction.  Those stupid people 
at the hospital really didn't help much.  All they did was screw me up 
even more.  I have to go to class after this.  I have to deal with all 
the people.  I can't walk in.  I'll freeze my balls off.  I'm going to 
dive into the class head on.  I'm going to hold my head up high; walk 
in boldly.  The people will stare at me and I won't take note.  I will 
be prepared.  I'll beat this today.  I won't faint next class. 

I've gotten back in time for chemistry.  I walk into the room right as
everyone is seated.  I walk straight to the teacher, Mrs. Beloozerov.  
I hand my schedule to her.  She nods. 

"Take a seat.  Stay after class and I will get you all your materials." 
I turn towards the class.  Shit.  Dizzy, spinning, stumble, pill, 
floor. 

I totally look like an ass when this happens.  Everybody thinks I'm a
freak.  I am a freak in a sense, but I'm tired of all this shit 
happening.  I can't stand this.  Every time I have to talk to someone I 
just fall on the floor.  I'm not going to jump into the pool anymore. 

"Are you okay, Henry?" asked Mrs. Beloozerov. 

"I'll be fine.  I just need to go sit down.  Please, don't make a big
deal out of any of it."  People continue to stare at me as I make my 
way to a seat in the back.  I won't talk anymore.  I just take out a 
notebook and begin taking notes. 

The bell rings.  There is a rush of people and a giant wave of noise in
the hall.  I wait for most of my class to get out the door.  I don't 
even bother to stay behind to talk to Mrs. Beloozerov.  I have to go 
deal with the reality of people.  I tilt my head to the ground.  I hug 
the lockers as I hurry through the halls.  I try to get to Computer 
Science as quickly as possible.  I want to get to the class and just 
take a seat so I don't have to talk to anyone.  I climb the stairs and 
rush to the class.  I throw my schedule on the teacher's desk and just 
go the back of the class and put my head down. 

I can't go through the rest of high school like this.  I've become the
weird anti-social nerd that I used to just look at in amazement.  I 
always felt sorry for him.  He never stopped to speak to a couple of 
friends.  He just ran to class.  I at least used to talk to friends 
from time to time.  I'll talk to some people after school.  I'll talk 
to some people in a free environment. 

The bell rings, the teacher reads my schedule and doesn't say anything. 
The class moves into the computer lab. 

"Henry, grab the assignment up here and go into the lab.  I'll be over
to help you in a few minutes."  I get up and grab the assignment.  I 
move to the only free computer.  I hope that nobody will talk to me. 

"That's the weird kid that faints," I hear someone whisper to the boy
next to him 

"I heard he can't take talking to people.  It like kills him or
something.  You wanna screw with him?" the second boy asks 

"Yeah, totally.  What's his name?" 

"Henry." 

"Hey Henry!  Come over here for a second."  I know their game already. 
I don't bother.  "Henry, are you deaf?  HEY!  I'M TALKING TO YOU!" 

"Hey man, leave me alone.  Don't you have anything better to do than
mess with the new guy?" I retort. 

"WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME?  YOU THINK YOU CAN DISRESPECT ME?  DO YOU KNOW
WHO I AM?" 

"Yeah I know who you are.  You're a shit stain on the underwear of
humanity, now leave me alone."  I've been bold.  I've stood up to the 
harshest of social interactions, the bully.  The bully gets up and 
heads to me.  He stands next to me. 

"You wanna go?  You think you can take me?"  I don't reply.  He pushes
me.  I don't reply.  I take the pain.  He punches me in the arm.  I 
stand up.  He winds up to take a punch at my stomach.  I see him start. 
 I flex my abs and turn a little so as to deflect the punch.  It works. 
 I feel nothing from the punch.  He winds up again.  This time he's not 
going for the stomach, he's going for the face.  I stand there, I watch 
it coming.  I don't flinch, I do nothing.  I simply hold my head there. 
 I feel the fist connect with my cheekbone.  Everybody in the room 
gasps.  They don't know me so they don't know how I'm going to react.  
My adrenaline begins to pump.  He looks amazed that I haven't fallen or 
started to flinch.  I am still looking him straight in the eyes.  I'm 
staring him down.  He realizes that a punch won't get me.  He lifts his 
leg.  He kicks me in the stomach.  I still don't move.  He doesn't 
understand.  I feel a surge of rage.  My right arm moves back.  It 
braces.  My chest and my triceps, along with about every other muscle 
that would help the job tighten.  My fist flies forward.  The power 
behind it is absolutely amazing.  I connect straight in his face, right 
around his nose.  There are two hits from that. Me hitting him, and him 
hitting the ground.  He's down for the count.  That one hit knocked him 
out cold.  After that surge, the interaction hits me.  I'm lightheaded. 
 I'm still mostly coherent.  I begin to stumble right as I get the pill 
in my mouth.  I recover quickly. 

"Henry, please take a seat," says the teacher.  She's been watching the
whole time.  I thought that I would've gotten in quite a bit of trouble 
for that.  I guess since she saw what happened she was just going to 
take it out on the bully. 

The bell rings.  The class rushes out.  I become scared by all the
people again.  I grab my books and just rush out of the classroom.  
Again, I hug the lockers and keep my eyes to the floor.  I rush to 
psychology.  What a class this will be.  I run into class, drop my 
schedule on the teacher's desk, run to the back and put my head down 
again. 

How did I do that?  How did I pull that off?  I totally kicked his ass. 
That was really cool.  I'm starting to deal with this.  I mean, I 
almost fell again, but I popped the pill in time. 

The teacher shakes my shoulder. 

"Why did you just throw this on my desk and run to the back of the
class?" he demands in a very irritated manner. 

"Sociopath," I reply. 

"Oh."  He walks away.  Wow, I'm glad he's a psychology teacher and
understands it. 

I keep my head down for the rest of class.  I just begin to doze off.  I
wake up to the teacher saying: 

"Have a great weekend."  Wow, I'd forgotten that it was Friday.  I never
really kept track of days at the hospital and I never checked the day 
when I got home. 

Part Four 

----------------- 

I get home.  I look at my phone.  There are 14 messages.  That's quite
odd.  Not very many people call.  I listen.  They're all friends saying 
 that they're glad I'm home.  Most are people I don't really want to 
talk to.  One catches my attention.  Vic.  I hadn't seen Vic in a long 
time.  He never showed up at school, went to an alternative school, 
then dropped out.  Apparently, now he's got his GED and he's already in 
college.  He's doing really well. 

"Hey Henry, it's Vic.  I heard you were home.  I was just wondering if
you wanted to chill.  Just give me a call," recited the machine.  I 
picked up the phone and called him up. 

"Hello?" says the person on the other end. 

"Hi, it's Henry, is Vic there?" 

"Yeah, just a minute."  I wait in silence and anticipation. 

"Hi, this is Vic." 

"Hey, it's Henry." 

"Oh, hey man, where have you been?" 

"Um, in the hospital, it's a long story, maybe I'll tell you later." 

"Okay man, you tryin' to chill tonight?" 

"Yeah, sure.  You want me to pick you up?" 

"Sure, I'm ready anytime." 

"Okay, I'll be there in a second."  Vic only lives over the hill from my
house so it is just a short hop. 

I pull up to his house.  I see him through the window.  He's cut off his
mohawk.  His hair is a mangy sort of buzz cut.  He's wearing cut off 
black jean shorts, a blue t-shirt, and combat boots.  He runs down his 
stairs and to the door.  He opens it and nonchalantly walks to my car.  
He opens the door. 

"Hey man," he says. 

"Yo.  What are we going to do tonight?" 

"I don't know, I figured I'd call up Matt." 

"Matt who?" 

"Matt Stangel," he says.  He seems to be amazed that I don't remember. 

"Oh yeah, I haven't talked to him in a while.  Well, I haven't really
talked to anybody in a while.  Who are we gonna chill with?" 

"Matt, Robby, Rob, Diana, Sean, Taylor, Smear, Buck, Drew maybe some
other people." 

"Cool cool.  Where's Matt right now?" 

"Probably at his house.  Let's roll up there."  We drive back by my
house and the other direction toward Matt's house.  He's only about 3 
minutes away. 

We show up at his house.  We climb the steps to his front door.  We
knock.  His dog starts yapping away.  I don't like that dog.  She's 
such a spazz.  I hear the bass booming out of Matt's room.  I doubt he 
can even hear us.  Suddenly the door opens.  There's Matt.  He's a 
heavy guy, about 6 feet tall.  He's got neatly trimmed, straight blonde 
hair.  He's wearing khaki shorts, Birkenstocks, and a Hawaiian shirt.  
You know how people say that only gay guys and big fat party animals 
wear Hawaiian shirts?  Well, he's not gay. 

"Hey man, what's goin' on?  I haven't seen you in forever," Matt says. 

"I'm not doin' too much.  Just trying to get back into the whole
socializing bit." 

"Well, I'm on my way out on the deck to smoke a jack.  Come on out."  He
pulls out his pack of Marlboro Lights.  Gross.  Cigarettes are gross to 
start with, but those cigarettes just suck.  He walks through the 
kitchen and the living room.  I notice that everything looks exactly 
like it did last time I was here.  Everything was in the same place.  
It was a rather comforting feeling.  I liked being able to come back to 
one thing that was familiar. 

He opens the sliding glass door and goes out on the deck.  Vic and I
follow him.  There is a tree growing through the deck.  It's a massive 
tree and they have cut out a hole in the deck for the trunk to come 
through.  Next to the tree is a metal table with three metal chairs 
around it.  On the other end of the deck are three wooden chairs and a 
wooden bench.  We each sit in a metal chair.  Matt offers a cigarette 
to Vic.  Vic accepts.  Matt offers one to me, I decline. 

"They taste bad," I say.  Matt shrugs and lights his.  We just sit
there.  "So what are we going to do?" 

"Everybody's on their way over here right now.  They'll be here in a few
minutes.  Sean is actually coming over now, look.  I turn my head. 

Sean is a tall, skinny guy.  He lives right next door to Matt and
they've been best friends forever.  Sean looks a bit goofy.  He has big 
ears and a rather oddly shaped face.  His short brown hair accentuates 
these facial features.  He is wearing some baggy jeans, Birkenstocks, 
and a tie-dyed Grateful Dead t-shirt.  He just walks through the yard 
and up to the deck.  He looks at me. 

"Holy shit!  Henry!  What's up?"  Sean comes over and hugs me. 

"Yo man, what's goin' on?" 

"Where you been?" 

"Hospital, it's a long story." 

"Whoa, bummer.  You chillin' tonight?" 

"Yeah, mos def." 

"Tight."  Matt holds out the pack of cigarettes.  Sean grabs one and
lights it.  I hear cars come up.  As promised, Robby, Rob, Diana, Sean, 
Taylor, Smear, Buck, and Drew all come up. 

Robby is a guy about 5'10", slim, light brown straight hair flopped
evenly over his head, wearing a tie-dyed Phish t-shirt, cut-off khaki 
shorts, thick socks, and Birkenstocks.  Robby can be an emotional guy 
if anything goes wrong.  Robby is somewhat of a leader in the group as 
are Matt and Sean.  If you're ever at a loss of something to do, you 
call one of them. 

Rob is dressed a lot like Robby.   Rob is a skinny guy, shorter than
Robby and tries to be Robby lots of the time, though much more laid 
back.  He has now adopted the Robby style as his own. 

Diana is a tall, thin, attractive, fair girl with long, wavy, dark hair.
 She's wearing some flared jeans, flip-flops, and a tight, stylish 
shirt. She goes out with Drew.  Drew is shorter than her with shaggy 
Blonde hair.  Drew is absolutely hilarious.  He just takes everything 
as a joke.  That's a great kind of guy to have around.  He does, 
however know when things are serious and reacts accordingly. 

Taylor is a good friend of Diana.  She is a shorter girl with long,
wavy, light brown hair. She's thin, but not as thin as Diana.  She goes 
out with Smear.  Smear is a crazy guy.  He's got floppy blonde hair.  
He's growing a mangy beard.  He wears the tie-died Phish shirt, khaki 
shorts, and Birkenstocks style as well. 

Buck is one crazy guy.  He's hilarious.  He never really takes anything
seriously.  He knows that life's a joke and he makes the most of that.  
He always has a joke coming. 

"HEY!  IT'S HENRY!!" they all shout. 

"Hey guys, what's up?" 

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" Diana asks. 

"The hospital, it's a long story." 

"Are you chilling with us tonight?" 

"Absolutely." 

"Awesome." 

Drew speaks up.  "Anybody wanna smoke a bowl?"  Smear nods
enthusiastically.  I've never smoked weed but I figure if it's supposed 
to be a social drug, it would probably be good for me.  The three of us 
sit down around the metal table.  Drew pulls out a nice glass pipe and 
a small baggie of a beautifully colored bud.  He breaks off pieces of 
it and packs them nicely in the bowl.  He takes out his lighter.  He 
hands it straight to me. 

"Here man, you get firsts.  It's a welcome gift." 

I take the bowl in my hand.  I lift it towards my face, I exhale all the
air I've got.  I bring the bowl to my mouth.  Flick.  The flame dips 
into the bowl.  I inhale.  Deeply.  Stop for a second and swallow to 
keep my throat moist.  I inhale.  Deeply.  Swallow again.  Inhale.  
Swallow.  I can't hold anymore.  I pass  the bowl to Drew.  I just sit 
there and hold in the smoke forever.  About a minute must have passed.  
I raise my head to the sky and slowly and smoothly release the smoke.  
I feel my body ease a little.  The bowl is passed back to me.  I take 
another hit.  Pass. Hit. Pass. Hit.  Man, I'm really messed up, but I'm 
feeling social.  Well, I'm really messed up now, one more hit should do 
it.  Every second seems to be in a different place.  Like everything 
looks the same, but each view is a different world.  It is completely 
unrelated to the last view. 

"You fucked up man?" asks Drew. 

"Huh?  Oh, yeah, totally man." 

People begin to move.  I don't really keep track of where they are. 
They just switch positions.  I hear their mumbles.  I think profoundly. 


I Miss the Tan M&M.  I really do.  Before that stupid Blue M&M, that bag
of that candy-covered chocolate that melts in your mouth, not in your 
hand, was perfectly balanced.  Every color had at least one partner 
color.  Red went with Green, Green went with Yellow, Brown went with 
Tan.  It was so easy.  It made so much sense.  Now, Red goes with Green 
and Blue, Green goes with Yellow and Blue.  It's all just so confusing. 
 It was much easier when all the M&M's had just one partner.  The most 
horrible thing about all of this is that Brown is left all by itself.  
Doesn't the brown one get lonely?  It has no Tan M&M to chill with.  
You know that they used to be best friends, but now Brown just has to 
sit alone in the corner of the bag and has nobody to talk to.  It's 
lonely.  It's lonely.  It wants companionship, but that companionship 
has been taken away. 

"I am the Tan M&M, I was taken away from my Brown, and I must fight my
way back into the bag." 

"What?" asks Smear. 

"Huh?" 

"Damn man, you must be really fucked up." 

"Yeah man, I'm fuckin' baked." 

"Right on.  Can you drive?  We're going to the G."  Ahh, the G.  I
haven't heard that magical letter in so long.  The G-Spot, our favorite 
chillum spot by the river.  I hop in my car.  Buck comes in the car 
with me.  We begin to drive. 

"Hey man," I say to Buck. 

"Yo, you fucked up?" 

"Yep, smacked off my ass.  Are you?" 

"Yeah man, I've been fucked up since this morning.  School was great." 

"Awesome." 

"Oh yeah, guess what." 

"What?" 

"Guess what I've got in my pocket," Buck says with tremendous
enthusiasm. 

"What?" 

"A ROAST BEEF SANDWICH!!!!"  The amazing thing is that he really does
have an unwrapped, homemade roast beef sandwich in his pocket.  He 
takes it out. 

"WHAT!?  HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"  I almost piss myself in that burst of
hysteria.  My head feels light.  Oh shit.  Am I going to faint?  No, I 
know why my head is light.  Laughter.  Social interaction.  I have won. 
I am used to the water.  I have taken control. 

"Guess who I am," says Buck with another joke up his sleeve. 

"Who?" 

"Johnny Carson!"  I crack up out of the pure randomness of it.  "Guess
who I am now." 

"Who?"  He shoves the sandwich in his mouth. 

"JOHNNY CARSON EATIN' A ROAST BEEF SANDWICH!"  My god, this guy's the
man. 

We roll up to the G-Spot.  Everybody else's car is already parked.  I
get out of the car.  People are wandering along the shore to our spot.  
I follow.  I look out at the river.  I love the Potomac.  That's my 
river.  That's the water.  That's where I belong.  Back to reality.  I 
stumble over fallen branches and logs.  I see the rocks ahead.  The 
actual G-Spot is a place with a couple of boulders that we sit on.  
Between the boulders we have placed a bunch of sticks in order to make 
a sort of roof over the nook between them.  We can go into this little 
hut if it becomes too windy or it begins to rain.  The little hut is 
only big  enough for two or three people, but it does just fine.  I 
sit.  Everybody else sits.  Matt takes out his bowl.  He packs it with 
weed. 

"Wanna smoke another bowl?" he asks me. 

"Huh?  Oh, yeh."  He passes me the bowl and the lighter... 

*	*	* 

I wake up back in my room at home.  It's 3:00 in the afternoon.  I walk
downstairs, my brain feeling fried. 

"Sleep well?" asks my mom.  She's sitting at the kitchen table.  Her
short gray hair is all I can see since her face is covered by the 
newspaper. 

"Yes, quite well." 

"Have fun last night?" 

"Yeah, I had fun.  I'm starting to make friends again." 

"What'd you guys do?" 

"Just chilled, watched some movies, walked around town."  She knows that
this is a crock of shit, but she really knows what happened.  Mothers 
always know.  I don't know how she knows, but she does. 

"What's your plan for today?" 

"Well, I seem to have wasted most of it already.  I guess I'll just do
some homework and maybe go out again tonight." 

"Wow, go out again?  You're adjusting quite well." 

"Yeah, last night I felt the lightheadedness come back, but I just beat
it without the pill, so I'm doing just fine." 

*	*	* 

Jonny was already in the car, and I'd just picked up Adam.  We had
decided to go on into Old Town to hang with Vic after he got off work.  
We got to Old Town and, met up with Vic outside his work.  We wandered 
for a little while and thought of things to do.  Suddenly Vic had an 
awesome idea:  ROBITUSSIN!   I'd never done Robo before, but I was 
eager to try it.  Vic and I were going to take it and Adam and Jonny 
were going to stay pretty sober.  We all rushed to the CVS and Vic and 
I rushed right in.  He went straight for the Cough Syrup.  I went to 
get us some cokes to chase it.  We got the Robo, and since it wasn't 
illegal, we sat down on the side of King Street to do it.  After Vic's 
first shot, we realized it wasn't that great of an idea to drink cough 
syrup on the side of the road, so we went back a couple of blocks and 
sat on a nice, deserted, brick patio.  We alternated in taking shots.  
I had set my limit at four since I'd never taken it before.  I took my 
first shot.  Sure, it tasted like cough syrup, since it was cough 
syrup, but it wasn't as bad when you weren't taking it for a cough, but 
as a drug.  I had my four shots and Vic had his five.  I wasn't sure if 
driving home was going to be a good idea.  The Robo chilled me out.  We 
walked down the street toward Ben & Jerry's while I nursed my coke.  
Halfway to Ben & Jerry's, a Honda Civic pulled up beside us.  It was 
Chris and Gungoll and George and Greg.  The Robo must've just hit Vic, 
because he ran into the street and tried to dive into the moving car.  
He missed the first time and bounced right off the car.  The second 
try, he went in through the window and rode down the street like that.  
When we got to Ben & Jerry's, Sean and Taylor were there.  Sean seemed 
to want to chill with Taylor, but all she did was talk on the phone.  A 
few people went into Ben & Jerry's and got ice cream.  Vic and I just 
sat at the table and admired each others' dilated pupils.  We decided 
to get out of Old Town and get closer to home.  We began to wander down 
the street.  Nobody really knew what was going on, so we just announced 
that we were going to meet at the 7-eleven at Hollin Hall.  I followed 
Chris's civic down the George Washington memorial parkway at high 
speed.  After about ten minutes of rapid transportation, we arrived at 
the 7-eleven.  As soon as I rounded the corner, I saw that Taylor was 
pulling out in her large SUV, Diana was behind her in her compact 
sedan,Chris was pulling in behind them in his civic, and I got in back. 
 Sean yelled to follow Taylor's car.  We followed Taylor into Waynewood 
and to some girl's house.  I didn't catch whose it was.  We found out 
that we had to get out of Waynewood because the parents in the house 
were trying to sleep and didn't want so many people around.  I went 
back to my car, and then turned around and went back to Taylor's SUV to 
ask where we were going.  After some argument, some people said we were 
going to the G-Spot.  I'd never been to the G-Spot.  I asked if it was 
by Rollins Hills, and they said no.  I was simply supposed to follow 
Taylor.  I went back to my car, and got in.  I waited for my 
passengers, Greg, George, and Adam, to get in, then I fired up the car. 
 Diana pulled up beside me and asked where we were going.  I just said 
to follow Taylor.  I saw Chris pull out and go the wrong way.  He went 
home because he was in a bad mood.  Taylor pulled by in her SUV, then I 
followed her, then Diana fell in behind me.  Taylor took a right and 
that took us straight to the parkway.  She pulled onto the parkway and 
sped off.  I double checked the road.  There weren't any cars for at 
least 100 yards, so I went.  I sped up fast so that I could catch up to 
Taylor.  She drives fast for a girl.  We were going about 60 on the 45 
mph road.  I was trying to catch up to Taylor so that I wouldn't get 
lost, so I pumped it up to about 65.  I saw a car come up behind me 
quite suddenly.  It first got my attention because I saw flashing 
lights.  I looked in my rearview mirror and all I could see were the 
headlights and the grill of a mercury sable.  It was tailing me quite 
close, so I sped up.  It started flashing its highbeams.  That must 
have been what the flashing lights had been.  It kept gaining.  I 
thought that it was just someone who knew me or someone from school 
showing off.  No matter what, I thought I'd better lose them.  I sped 
up some more because they didn't seem to care whether or not I was in 
their way, they had a speed, and they were going to stay at that speed. 
 I kept accelerating so that I'd have enough room to change lanes, but 
the car stayed right on my tail.  We were going about 90 when I saw it 
fall back for a second.  I was about to put on my signal to go in the 
right lane when I saw it dive into the right lane.  It must have been 
going 100 when it passed me.  I was quite relieved when it got in 
front.  As soon as it cleared me, it dove right in front of me and the 
guy slammed on the brakes.  I put on my brakes too.  My first thought 
was that he knew he was going too fast and wanted to slow down, but he 
kept slowing until he was stopped, blocking me completely.  I would 
have done an e-brake 180, but there was a median in the way.  I just 
came to a rapid halt and waited for a second.   I saw his door open, so 
I immediately locked all of mine.  He emerged.  He wasn't from school 
at all.  He was about 30-ish with short, dark hair, and hadn't shaved 
in a while.  He was wearing his work clothes and they were rumpled and 
hanging loosely on his thin frame.  He stomped on back to my car and 
went straight for my door.  He came up and started beating on my window 
and screaming, 

"What de fuck do you tink you doing?!   Open de fucking door!!!!"  His
accent was somewhat Greek.  He continued pounding on my window and my 
door trying to break it open or something.  I had no idea what I'd done 
to upset him.  I started screaming, "Get away from my car, FUCKO!!"   
He kept screaming obscenities and I started to tune him out as millions 
of possible decisions flew through my head.  Should I fight?  Should I 
have the other guys help me out?  Should I ram his car?  Should I ram 
him?  He took a step back and kicked my door.  He kicked it so hard 
that I currently have a large dent in the drivers' side door of my car. 
 I decided to run.  I slammed the car into reverse and got back about 
75 yards.  He thought I was only trying to find a way to get around him 
so he paced menacingly across the two lanes.  I popped the car into 
first, hopped up onto the median strip, and turned around.  I sped off 
in the other direction at about 110 mph.  I didn't want him to follow, 
and I didn't want to ever have to see him again.  I sped away until I 
hit Waynewood at which point I slammed on the brakes and turned down 
there.  I went pretty damn fast down all the residential streets.  I 
wanted to go to the cops, but I couldn't go to the cops in my 
chemically altered mental state.  I just went to the library parking 
lot across the street from the police station.  As I neared the parking 
lot I felt that the Robo had begun kicking in.  I was somewhat relaxed. 
 Well, I was as relaxed as one can be after someone has attempted to 
murder you and your three passengers.  I got out at the library, looked 
at the damage, paced for a few minutes, and then went and peed in a 
bush.  I'm lucky I hadn't peed myself while it was going on.  Greg, 
George, Adam, and I all discussed what had happened and tried to figure 
out why he was mad and what to do.  I just paced.  The Robo was really 
kicking in now and the ground was getting a little unstable.  Diana 
called Greg's cell phone to find out what happened.  I explained it to 
her on the phone.  I told her I was pretty shaken up and probably 
shouldn't drive down there.  She agreed to get Taylor and Chris and 
meet me up there.  We stood there pacing for a while.  Everyone arrived 
and I talked to people.  I told everyone what happened.  There were 
some gasps.  Everyone sat around talking about it for a few minutes.  
By then it was about 11:00, so I decided to get home.  Adam and Vic got 
in the car, I took Adam home, then I took Vic home, then I took myself 
home.  I parked outside and walked right into my parents' bedroom to 
report in for the night. 

"Hi mom, hi dad.  I'm home." 

"Hi honey, how was your night?" asked my mom. 

"Fun, but I'm pretty tired, I'm gonna go to bed." 

"Yeah, just go to bed, you have to get up early in the morning," said my
dad. 

"Yeah, I know.  I'm just gonna go check my email. 

As I checked my email, I talked to a couple of people and told them
about what happened, but when my monitor started changing colors, I 
knew the Robo was going strong and I should probably get to bed.  I 
went to bed and all I could do was fall on my bed.  The room started to 
warp around me and the walls began to liquify.  I couldn't sleep.  I 
had one part of a Jay Jay Johanson song stuck in my head, and all I did 
all night was involuntarily re-live the episode of the man approaching 
the car, beating on the windows, and me running over and over again.  
Each time I re-lived it, I did one thing differently, and each time I 
did something differently we all ended up dead.  It seems that out of 
all the millions of things that rushed through my head that I could 
have done, I chose the one set of options that kept everyone alive.  
The Robo kept me calm, and though it may not have made me think more 
clearly, it helped control my testosterone and my emotions.  Damn, that 
was one hell of a night. 

*	*	* 

I head over to Matt's house for Friday night.  He's just got some new
stuff.  We bought a pure kilo of Dextromethorphan Hydrobromide, or as 
it is also known, DXM, Drix, or Dex.  We have the powder, a scale, and 
gelcaps.  This drug is the active ingredient in Robitussin.  I'd had 
that experience.  Matt greets me at the door.  We go straight to his 
room.  He's got the massive bag of white powder sitting out.  He's 
measuring the weight of each pill.  I choose to take 300mg,  The dose 
of Robitussin only had about 100 mg and that was some powerful shit.  I 
pick up the pill.  I walk out of the room and to the dark kitchen.  I 
grab a cup out of the cupboard over the sink, fill it up with water and 
start to take the pill.  I look into the mirror with the pill in one 
hand and the water in the other. 

I've become the guy my parents warned me about.  I was never a drug user
when I smoked weed.  Look at me now.  I'm actually taking pills to get 
high.  I feel like shit.  Why am I doing this?  Why am I sitting here 
putting chemicals into my body in order to kill my brain? 

Despite the thought I pop the pill in my mouth.  I will never forget the
look of despair in my eyes as I took that pill.  This is the beginning 
of my plunge into a chemically induced oblivion for the next year.  I 
feel a slight buzz right as I take the pill.  I walk back to the room 
and sit quietly in a chair in the corner. 

"Do you feel anything yet?" asks Matt. 

"Just a little buzz.  I doubt anything will kick in for a while." 

"Yeah, you're probably just buzzed because of the little bit of powder
that was still on the outside of the pill. 

"Yeah, probably."  I sit in the chair.  They've just put on a movie.  I
don't pay any attention to it.  I just sit there.  Every second seems 
like an eternity.  I keep looking at the clock.  Every time I see it it 
says 3:48.  I ask if the clock's broken and they all insist that it's 
not.  Wow, I hadn't noticed.  People have showed up. Diana, Drew, 
Robby, Rob, and Julia have showed up.  Julia is an interesting 
character.  We always just call her Jew because she's always preaching 
to us and trying to get us all to go to temple with her.  She's short 
with messy blonde hair and wears loose, ratty flared jeans and an old 
blue t-shirt.  I climb up on the bed.  The bed is in the corner.  Diana 
has her head in the corner and her body diagonal on the bed.  I lay 
between Diana on the wall.  I sit there and look at the clock.  3:48.  
How is it still 3:48?  I don't even care.  I look up at Diana.  She 
rubs my shaggy, brown hair. 

"I'm a seal!  Bark! Bark!" I yell 

"Yeah Henry.  Sure you are," replies Diana playfully. 

"No, seriously, I'm a seal.  Don't you realize that?  Bark! Bark!"  I
clap my hands together with my arms straight out trying to mimic the 
clapping of a seal's flippers.  After that, I don't really remember 
much. 

*	*	* 

We have finals at school this week.  That means there are only half days
at school today.  There's going to be a picnic after school.  I take my 
math test.  I'm thinking that I aced it.  I take my English test.  
Ouch, that grade's gonna hurt.  Finally, school's out. 

I hop in my car.  I pick up some people.  I'm going to Collingwood Park.
 It's just a little bit farther north of the G.  Before I go I have to 
stop by Matt's house.  We're going to drix today.  I show up.  I grab 
myself a pill of 500 mg.  That's going to be crazy.  I walk to the 
kitchen to get a glass of water.  I look in the mirror.  My eyes are 
different.  I no longer look at myself in disappointment.  Today is too 
much a day of my youth that I feel this is going to be a good thing.  I 
look in the mirror and feel happy.  I'm just learning what life is.  
I'm experimenting.  This is fine.  I pop the pill.  I hop in the car 
again and head to the park. 

I get there right as Diana comes up with the food.  Mmmm.  That food
looks so good.  I wish I could eat it, but if I eat it will make me 
come down from my drix.  I take off my shoes.  Rob rolls up in Robby's 
car.  Rob is drixing pretty hard, just like me.  He takes off his shoes 
as well.  The sun is shining.  The sky is bright blue.  Everything 
about today is perfect.  There aren't any bugs.  It isn't too hot, it 
isn't too cold.  We run down the hill towards the river.  We enjoy the 
feeling of the grass under our feet.  We continue to run around as 
Diana sets up.  A bunch of cars come up.  All of our regular group and 
some other people come up.  People lay down towels.  Lots of people 
settle down under a tree and just sit there.  I take off my jeans and 
run around in my bathing suit.  Suddenly I feel tired.  I drop to the 
ground in the middle of everybody that's talking.  As soon as I hit the 
ground I feel like I need to get up because I'm full of energy.  I 
start switching from high energy to exhaustion.  It's so frustrating.  
I don't know what to do.  I get up and slowly amble to the picnic table 
to sit and look out on the water. 

"Hey Henry!" cries Buck.  "Come on!  We're gonna go jump off the dock!" 
There's a dock next to the park that belongs to one of the massive 
houses that line the shore of the Potomac.  I see five people running 
towards the lawn of that house ripping off their clothes along the way. 
 I stand up.  Wow, it's tough to stay balanced.  I start to run.  It 
works better.  It's a lot like riding a bike, if I go slowly it's 
harder to keep my balance, but I'm pretty sturdy once I'm going fast.  
I don't want to jump off the dock, but I'm intrigued as to whether or 
not they'll actually do it.  I stop just short of the lawn and look off 
the beach to the end of the dock.  They are all sprinting straight to 
the end of the dock.  They each do a flip off the end of the dock and 
swim back to the beach. 

"Man, that was so fuckin' cool!" says Drew.  "Anybody wanna do it
again?"  Everybody shakes their heads.  Now they're all in a swimming 
mood. 

"Who wants to go the G?" asks Matt.  Everybody starts yelling, "YEAH!" 
We clean up quickly. Well, I don't really clean up.  I'm still working 
on the whole seeing one of everything trick.  I start to stumble over 
to the picnic table.  Oh crap, where are my pants?  Wait, I left them 
on the grass over there.  I grab my pants and walk up to my car.  I've 
driven drixing before.  I can do it.  It's just a mile up the road.  
People begin to file up to the parking lot.  Vic and Diana hop in my 
car.  Diana throws some of the picnic stuff in the back seat and tells 
me to be sure to remind her to get it out at the end of the day.  I 
pull out of the space.  The car feels a little weird, but I can keep my 
mind focused for a few minutes.  I drive up to the exit.  There's no 
traffic.  That's good, one less thing.  I take a left and head to the G 
spot.  The Parkway is so monotonous that my mind slips off.  I'm not 
even sure what I'm thinking, but I'm out of it.  Suddenly I'm at the G. 
 I slow down pretty fast and turn into the parking space.  I did it, 
that's good.  Everybody else shows up right after me.  We get out of 
our cars and walk down to the rocks. 

"Does anybody want to go swimming?" asks Robby. 

"Totally," I reply.  We all start getting undressed and leaving our
clothes out on the rock.  We step into the water.  It's immediately 
knee-deep.  It's not that cold.  The water's a little bit cooler than 
tepid.  The muck at the bottom squishes between my toes.  It feels 
really good.  I wade farther out.  People start filing in behind me.  
I've never swum here before.  Robby takes the lead.  He swims here a 
lot.  He keeps heading farther and farther out.  The water goes 
chest-deep.  He keeps going.  He hasn't had to start actually swimming 
yet.  He can still walk.  We get out to the middle of the river.  The 
water's just above waist-deep.  Everybody is in a crowd.  There are 
shouts going all around.  Everybody's happy.  This is youth.  This is 
summer.  This is joy.  The lightheadedness returns.  Spinning.  Down. 

*	*	* 

"Mrs. Rodriguez, it was the drugs, not the stress." 

I faintly hear a sob far away.  Where am I?  Where are you?  Where are
we all?  Here are the doves.  Carry me away.  I am an independent 
entity.  I am nothing, yet I am existence.  Suddenly everything makes 
sense to me.  I am no longer restricted to the confines of a human 
brain.  I comprehend the universe.  I understand everything.  I know 
nothing.  There is nothing else left to do.  I drift.  I drift.  I 
drift in the sea of my subconscious. 

Drugs are like climbing a tree. Everybody tells you not to do it, But
you've got to try it, So that you can decide whether the thrill of the 
climb is worth the inevitable fall. 

I climbed too high, and the fall was just too much. 

Well, it's over, but it's been one hell of a ride. 55 


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