Playing with fire...

** This particular post is intended to be split up into 3, maybe 4 parts. **

Monday morning, as usual, I met up with Duncan and Megan before class. Duncan handed me a SweetTart candy wrapped in foil. As previously planned (the day before) we were going to give acid a shot. It sounded like a good idea at the time...

We both ate our respective candies before our 5^th period (1^st class of the day) class. The class went as usual, save for the anticipation building up towards the end of my hour and a half class of Honors English. Come the end of the class, I was feeling very fidgety, and it was obvious that my drugged candy was taking effect. After class, Duncan and I met up. Our classes were right down the hall from each other. We caught eyes from down the hall and the look in both of our eyes told the other that it was time to go. We happened to have the next class together, AP Biology with one of our favorite teachers, Mr. Demond. We headed off to find Megan, then subsequently left to head to the Park.

The park was the place where all the other stoners hung out. There were a few remnants from the first period stoners still at the park, and more coming for the second period stoners. About this time, the acid started playing with our brains and was getting stronger and stronger. Time slowed down, yet spet up at the same time. I don’t know how much time elapsed while we were there…. It was probably about 9:15 a.m. when we walked over there…

We sat at the picnic tables and people started fucking with us hardcore. Megan, no doubt strangely jealous that she was being left out of the fry-fest, decided it woudl be funny to tell the other occupants of hte park that we were frying. Thus, the games began. The most notable and obviosly entertaining for the group of stoners was the snapping. Two kids took turns bouncing their "snap" and throwing it back and forth to each other. One threw it into their soda, at which point, the snapping stopped, then took a drink from the straw and "spit" it back out... at which point the snapping continued. Duncan and I followed the trail of the invisible snap back and forth between the two, and before the game ended, more people joined in and there was an invisible dodgeball game taking place, so to say.

After the snapping lost its fun, Megan and many of the kids were just talking to each other while Duncan and I continued our trip. Duncan was sitting on one of the picnic tables, seemingly staring off into space, when he threw literally picked up his one hand, and threw it with the other hand. He jumped up in a panic, drawing everyone's attention. "My hand!!!" he yelled, "It's blue!!" Everyone starts laughing hysterically at his distress, telling him he was crazy. Sure enough, when I looked down at it, it was blue. We determined that they were the crazy ones. It was time to leave the park. Megan gave me a piggy-back ride. It was like a demented version of childhood, all over again.

**Part 2**

We sat in the seminary building in a vacant room during what was Megan’s seminary period (8^th period). Megan put Pink Floyd The Wall on in the background on their sound system and then drew on the board while we sat at opposite ends of the room doing god knows what. I had a paper in front of me and drew squiggly lines of sorts, I think. We both watched Megan sing to herself and draw on the white board. She appeared to be drawing some “evolution” picture—half chimpanzee, half human… though their were debates about what it was—if it was half man, half women, etc. She laughed at us for being so enthralled by it.

All of a sudden, Megan's seminary teacher found us and came into our sanctuary. She went to the back of the room to talk to him and we remained sitting and doing our own thing, only partially aware of the magnitude of his presence. He told her that we needed to turn off the music and that we should come join her class. Megan adamantly disagreed but you and I seemed to be kind of enthralled by the idea and as if in a trance followed him to the room.

When we entered it was like entering a circus or game show or something of the sort. He directed Megan to the front of the room to keep score, and Megan grabbed on to me and told me I was keeping score with her. He shoved a book of mormon or something into Duncan's hands and told him to have a seat. They were having a scripture chase. Our eyes must have been lit up or had some sort of child-like intrigue in them because EVERYONE was staring at us. Immediately, the teacher called out something and everyone started frantically flipping through their books. Duncan looked around like a lost child at everyone and started trying to mimic their actions by tossing your pages around. He never once looked at his book, only at the other people. Then, as hands started being thrown up, he blindly threw his up, too. He was skeptical of this game, and obvious didn't know what was going on. He'd put it up, then pull it down, then flip more pages, then put it up, pull it down, etc. I was at the front of the room laughing hysterically. Megan, being the quick thinker that she is, pulled me in for a hug and told me to pretend like I was crying. I laughed at her, telling her I felt silly. She patted my back and reassured me, as if I was crying, "It's okay... don't cry..." She pushed me towards the door while trying to catch Duncan's attention. Duncan never came. Shortly after we exited the circus, the ball rang, informing all that the school day was finally over.

**Part 3?**

Duncan remained in the seminary classroom. Megan peeked through the sliver of a window in the door to find out where you had gone. Duncan was cornered by the seminary teacher with a confused, yet intrigued look on his face. He was getting the god talk.

Eventually, he made it out of the room, still with a stuplified look on his face. We made our way out of the seminary building and found ourselves staring at an empty school parking lot. Apparently we had been in that building for awhile. All the buses were gone. Most of the cars were gone. Unsure of what to do or how to get home, and plagued by the realization that I had to work that night, we concluded to walk to Duncan's grandma’s house, probably about a mile away from the school. Once we got there, Duncan decided that he'd be okay to drive (not to mention, we had few other options) and dropped me off at work.

**Part 4**

I got to work feeling pretty normal. Duncan's "ability" to drive must have reassured me to a certain degree. It must be wearing off, I thought. I walked in through the front door of Papa Murphy's, saying hello to a few of my co-workers on the way back to the employee area where I could change. When I got back there, I was immediately sidetracked by a huge ass bright fluorescent pink sign in the back. It was definitely a new addition to the employee area and contained the Papa Murphy's drug policy written in big black threatening letters with permanent marker. Oh my god, they know, I thought. I sat in the back studying that bright sign for what must have been about thirty minutes. It was my boss's day off, and I was the "shift manager" for the evening. I tried to put on my sober face and headed up front to start working.

I felt like I was in my own bubble. Everyone there was on the outside of that bubble and had no idea what was going on in my zone. I watched them, and they watched me, but nothing could be seen. Then, for no apparent reason, they started fucking with me…. People would come in to the store, then immediately walked out without saying/doing anything. I would greet them as usual, then when they would just look at me and walk out, I would be like, "What the hell?" to my co-workers. They would innocently ask, "What?" Leading me to that insecure question of, "Did you just see those people? They just came in and then left." And then, leading to more insecurity, "No... no one is there. You're seeing shit."

Finally, I hid in the back and did dishes all night. I figured it would be best if I just stayed out of sight and let them take care of the customers. The night seemed to go fairly well after that. The store closed at 8:00 p.m., and on a good night, we were usually out of there by about 8:30 p.m. (On a good night.) That night, was obviously not a "good" night for me. We were still at the store, finishing up our closing duties when my boss, Annette, came in to do inventory. Great. I tried to small talk with Annette and pretend to be okay for awhile. I had this brilliant plan during those days that so long as I did not avoid confrontation and instead instigated it, people would not think anything was off with me... my attempt with Annette that night was pathetic. Finally, I gave up and went home. (I don't even recall how I got home, or what happened at home once I got home.)

**The Consequences, Part 5**

The next day brought an unexpected surprise. During my first period class, I was retrieved by one of the hallmoniters. What now? I thought. They took me out of class and asked me where I had been all day yesterday. I told them I was "around." They brought me into a small room, and declared that I was to remain in ISS all day long. I was never to leave their sight. If I had to use the bathroom, I had to ask permission and then I was escorted to the nearest restroom while they waited outside the door. Then I was brought back. They had already been around to my teachers to collect work for me to do. They “babysat” me while I caught up on homework for all my classes. I think it was Quarnberg’s attempt to get me caught up on my classes to he could more easily convince my teachers to pass me with decent grades for the purpose of volleyball the next year. The day was long and boring and hard to stay awake for as I'm coming down from an acid trip the day before.

"Potty Dance"

Andrew had been out pretty solidly for about a week. With the exception of a couple of hours during the day, he slept soundly. His body barely moved. His face had pain etched into it. His eyes were sunken and exhausted. At this point in time, his body was being nourished through an IV and he stirred only to go to the bathroom. Even this brief stir was hard work for him. He frequently fell back asleep while still sitting up in his bed, or even standing.

One day, I sat near his bed and read while he rested. Suddenly, Andrew jolts up. Alarmed, and somewhat amused, I looked in his direction. He had a complete look of panic on his face as he quickly gathered all the IV tubing around him and threw his legs over the side of the bed to feel out his slippers. Somewhat alarmed, I asked, "Can I help you with something?" He continued on with his bizarre new burst of energy and I quickly got up to assist however I could. He suddenly blurts out, "I have to go...!"

A little bit confused, I tried to get more information. "Go.... where?" He shot me a look that said where the hell are you from?! then responded, "TO THE BATHROOM!!" I stood corrected and a bit baffled for a minute, then frantically joined in the task of untangling his numerous IV life lines from the bed. He hadn't gotten up or moved in days, so the IVs were starting to grow around his bed frame.

Andrew danced around like a child trying to tell his parent he had to go to the bathroom. After about 15 seconds of frantic untangling, Andrew lost patience and just started pulling his IV tower behind him. I kept at the task, trying to free him before it was too late. It was already too late. With one swift and desperate pull on the tower, he became unhooked. He plopped down on the toilet-- not a minute too soon-- while blood is squirting everywhere from his IV. He calmly reached up to his port, clamped the tube and the blood flow stopped as quickly as it had started. Relief was pouring from him.

I was on the verge of frantic from the very beginning just given the drama of the situation. I hadn't been accustomed to such action in that 10' x 15' hospital room we called home for 40 days. Rarely did anything of excitement happen in that room. I opened the door. The nurses station was a few feet from our door, and the only word I had to say was "Blood." And they were there. One of them cleaned up the blood all over the floor while the other one stopped the IV pump and changed the tubing. I plopped myself down on the little couch and just started laughing uncontrollably.

By the time Andrew emerged from the bathroom, the nurses were ready to hook him back up and put him back to bed. He came out with a look of pure relief on his face-- oblivious to the humor in his entire performance.