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Metamorphous, Relating To A Personal Incident
Twenty minutes had past since I was set on to the table to dry. I did
not want to dwell upon my fears which were inevitable to occur, so I
could do nothing but observe all the minute details that were once so
trivial and overlooked but now seemed to be of such great importance. The
first thing to catch my eye was the lighting in the room, I was not sure
if the lights were set to be dim or if it was from all the clouds of
exhaled smoke which also left a distinct smell of the burnt herb. To my
left I saw the many burnt out roaches in the ash tray, which at this
point could hold nothing more. To the far right I saw a sandwich bag
which was now packed with nothing but broken branches and seeds. It was
obvious what used to be inside. I looked toward the door and saw the
towel that plugged it so no smoke would get out in the hall. On the
dresser I saw what I think they called a steam roller. The most horrid
device that I had ever used. I looked at the cylindrical tube, that once
used to be a transparent red but now had become a solid maroon from all
the smoke which stained the plastic, and noticed its simplicity. It
looks like nothing more than a plastic pipe that was only about one and a
half inches in diameter and only about six inches long. The bowl which
rested on top could have been easily assembled at a hardware store. It
amazes me how something could be so simple but still so destructive.
One of the people in the room slowly approached me as the effects of his
artificial happiness wore away. His trembling hands somehow managed to
embrace me by my head and lay me to rest upon his lower lip. Before his
upper lip came to rest upon the top of my head I opened my eyes and
peered into his mouth using what little light I had. In all my like I had
never thought I would again see what I had saw for those few seconds. His
tongue was stained black. It was not totally black as if it was coated
with tar but it had a slight tint on both the sides, almost purple.
Just as I started to realize what I was seeing and what was going on I
felt his top lip seal my freedom away. I started to feel a strong burning
sensation at my bottom where my toes once were. When I heard the sound of
buds start to crack I knew what was occurring, the beginning of my end.
As I laded there helplessly I began to feel large amounts of smoke pulse
quickly up my shaft of a body till finally ejaculated in his mouth like a
penis reaching climax. Next the vacuum began. I started to become faint
as he forced more and more smoke out my upper opening. And I knew the
more smoke that ran through me meant the more I was decreasing in size.
Then the young boy could hold no more smoke in his lungs he pulled me
away from his lips and held me tight with his thumb underneath my head
and his forefinger and middle-finger embracing my top. Then he tilted his
head back and instead of forcing the smoke out he just let it flow by
itself. It amazed me to see such beautiful shapes form from something
that would bring the end to this poor souls existence. He then brought me
back to his mouth and began to take my sweat poison deep into his
exhausted lungs at this point I was almost all gone. I had become a small
roach with a long tail of ash. I had one last long drag left in me. As
he tool me in I knew it was the end of both of us... As Cas and I rode up
the elevator I could see that he had been anticipating to come up here
all week.
Every weekend it was the same old thing over and over again. Me and Cas
would come up to this filthy burnt out old city to do the same thing; to
get lifted. "Yo, Happy said he get mad amount of shit this week. His
brother went up to New York and broke off like two "O^Os" for him. We
goin’ to get crazy fucked up tonight." I could see in Cas’s eyes that he
had turned into a fiend just by the way he was so excited to be here. I
personally, came up to be with Cas and say what^Os up to happy. I did not
care much for getting mentally distorted but would do it anyway. It did
not make sense but that^Os the way things were. All I could say to Cas’s
statement was, "Phat, phat. It’s going to be phat."
When we got to the door I could smell the devils harsh scent. It put
butterflies in my stomach but I ignored them. I was the first to enter
the room. I could hardly see through the dense air. I counted the number
of silhouettes I could see. I counted about twelve. One of them started
to move toward me. No doubt it was Happy. "Oh shit, wussup!. I thought
you guys would never get here. Yo, we is crazy fucked up. We puffed like
half a "P." Joe^Os boys from North Phili rolled up with a pound a herb!
Yo, come on, there^Os like half an "O" waitin’ for you on the table man.
Yo, I got that that steam roller shit you was Tallinn’ about. That shit
was the bomb! Damn it fucked me up! I took like two hits and I was fucked.
Yo, the emergency blunts are on the dresser, help yourself!" I ignored
Happy^Os garbage talk and nodded my head and gave him a pound with my
hand. It was obvious from his bloodshot eyes and non-stop mumbling that
he had been smoking all day. Before I could take another step Cas almost
knocked me down as he moved quickly toward the table where the "O" was.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah!. I’ve been waiting all week for th is!. You comin’? It’
s just me and you. We goin^O to get our shit on tonight." I did nothing
but nod my head and follow Cas to the table. Cas being the one to try
anything new went straight for the steamroller that rested on the far end
of the table. He grabbed the sandwich bag and pulled out a whole branch.
He then proceeded to break up the buds till he had a large pile in the
middle of the table. He began to tightly pack the open valve with the
devil’s herb. "Get ready to be toasted kid.", Cas said right before he
put the pipe to his mouth. Those were the last sensible words I heard
from him that night. Cas then passed it to me. At first I hesitated but
proceeded anyway. I put the front opening into my mouth and covered the
back one with my right hand. With my left hand a picked up the lighter
and approached the valve opening. I sparked the flint and went to work. I
moved the flame around the edges of the valve getting the outside leaves
first. At the same time I began inhaling very hard. I started to taste
the foul smoke force its way down my throat. I looked into the cylinder
and saw that a thick cloud had formed. Just when I could hold no more
within my lungs I took my right hand off the back opening and one big
suck. What that did was take the air on the outside and use that to force
all the smoke on the inside into my lungs. I pulled the steamroller away
and clenched my lips closed. My stomach felt like it had a whole colony
of ants moving about inside. It was a sickening feeling but I still held
it inside, I had to be strong. About five seconds had passed and I knew
it was time to exhale. I tilted my head back and let the smoke rise on
its own. That was the only part I truly enjoyed, seeing the smoke. My
eyes began to tear and I needed a place more comfortable to sit. I
proceeded toward the couch. As soon as I made it to the couch I rested my
head back and closed my eyes.
Twenty minutes had passed since I had sat down and I had not felt
anything. Could I be immune to the effect? That would be great. I could
smoke twice as much as Cas and Happy and not feel a thing. I looked
around the room and saw that everyone was jumping about crazy. I looked
at the table and saw something unusual. It was a blunt. How did that get
there? Nobody in the room could roll one that fat. I walked to the table
and sat in the large chair at the head of the table. I stared in disgust
at the empty sandwich bag which held nothing but branches and seeds
inside. That had told me that Cas had returned here quite often. I picked
up the blunt with only three of my fingers and immediately sparked it up.
I had never smoked a blunt that fast in my life. But it is all right I
thought to myself, I am immune. Boy was I wrong. The effects of the THC
immediately went to my brain. Before my movement became stunted I ran
back to the couch that I wanted to reside on for the rest of the night.
Once I hit the sofa I felt it begin. I hated this feeling . Every nerve
in my body began to pulse and throb. It was unbearable. My skin had
become so sensitive I could feel every fiber in my shirt. My brain felt
the worst of all. I could have sworn upon my mothers grave that I could
actually feel my brain begin to bleed onto my spinal cord. It was thought
I could truly not bare to imagine. There was no point in anyone talking
to me because I could no longer hear in normal sounds. All I could hear
were sounds that resembled radio vibrations. But tonight I started to
feel new horrors. I knew it was to late. All I could do is wait it out.
My body started to become extremely stiff. My legs joined together and
formed a point on the bottom. My arms went quickly to my now completely
straightened body. Then I started to notice a change in my color. I
appeared to be getting darker and darker as time surpassed. It began to
frighten me. The worst part was now starting to occur. I could literally
feel my insides start to change. It almost felt as if they were changing
into the herb I had just introduced into my body. I knew I was coming to
my end for now I was beginning to black out. I looked around for help but
everyone was to burnt to notice or even care. My head became still and it
forced me to stare at the window atop the ceiling. I tried to speak to
ask for help but all I could do for my last five seconds was stare at my
purple tinted tongue in the reflection of the dark stained window.
Word Count: 1,953
ADDITIONAL FEATURED ESSAYS
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Stone Boy Six years ago, Arnold Curwing accidentally shot his brother with a .22 caliber rifle. He was nine years old at the time.
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