AN: Thanks to all the people who have supported the story thus far. This is one of my personal favorite chapters in the whole book, so enjoy.

Jimmy

I don’t really know how it happened but on Saturday I somehow ended up getting dragged to a family reunion. It really sucked because I didn’t have any drugs and there was no time to score any. To top it all off, there was another threatening message from Lenny in my voicemail. This time he’d threatened to cut off my balls and shove them up my ass, which sounded undesirable to say the least. The sad part was he probably didn’t even remember what I owed him for, just that I owed him (But then again, so did I.)

Thankfully I managed to grab my MP3 player before they bundled me into the back of the car. My father listened to Gospel music all the way down.

The reunion was at my Aunt’s house. There were already a bunch of people there, people I hadn’t seen in years. A lot of them had the same blond hair as me. I tried to get away from my parents, but every time I drifted away, my mom’s hand grabbed me and dragged me back to introduce me to someone

Eventually I did manage to get away from them and headed downstairs. I swiped a bottle of wine when no one was watching and managed to down a quarter of it in about five minutes. Eventually I ran into a cousin of mine, Simon, who was supposedly a drug dealer back in his hometown. I asked him if he had any dope.

“You can’t get high around all these white breads, man.” He said, before departing, disappearing in the crowd like a ghost.

I sighed, moved over to the snack table, and snatched a whole bunch of these tiny tuna sandwiches. I ate them alone in the corner, sullen, watching everyone talk and reminisce. When I was sure no one was watching I took a sig of wine, hoping to get hammered.

Then I started talking to some girl named Michelle with short, dark hair and these really sexy freckles. I was into her and I hoped we weren’t related. I couldn’t remember ever having met her before, but even then, could you fuck one of your cousins? Probably. It wasn’t like fucking your sister.

We talked about music. She liked Nightwish, a band I hated with such all-consuming passion that it was like cancer in my soul whenever I heard one of their songs, but I wanted her anyway. I soon spotted my parents coming down the stairs so I pulled her into the bathroom and locked the door behind us. I put the wine bottle down on the toilet tank and we started making out. We went at it for awhile, with her half-sitting on the edge of the sink and her legs enveloping me like a wishbone. It was good but when I started to undo her jeans, she stopped me.

“You can’t,” She breathed. “I’m on my period.”

Yeah, right. It was probably a lie, but I stopped anyway, feeling dejected. Michelle must have felt sorry for me because she dug a small tinfoil wrapped bundle out of her pocket. Inside were four purple pills, the likes of which I’d never seen before.

“You can only take one at a time,” She warned sternly. “They’re really strong.”

She fixed her rumpled hair and clothes and then left the bathroom. I looked down at the pills lying in the foil. Really strong, yeah right. Nothing was too strong for me. I dropped all four of them and washed them down with wine. Then I left the bathroom.

I went back to my corner and stood. Nothing happened for awhile, nut then things changed. People’s voices seemed deeper, more distorted. They were moving slower too. There was a painting above the mantel of a bunch of flying white birds. It seemed to be moving.

I”m fucking tripping out here, I thought. Completely tripping out.

I couldn’t take it so I went back into the bathroom. I tried to take a piss, but there was something wrong. My piss wasn’t yellow. It was an odd shade of fluorescent orange, and the white porcelain of the toilet bowl was growing strangely. I started laughing, really loud, hysterically. I staggered and my piss went everywhere, on the wall, on the carpet, everywhere. I laughed so hard I puked up the tuna sandwiches I’d eaten, but thankfully it all landed in the toilet. I fell against the wall, sweaty, the front of my shirt covered in puke and my jeans and boxers around my knees. What was this stuff? It felt like acid but also kind of like ecstasy. I couldn’t control it. I’d finally stepped over the line and fried myself. I started to panic, thinking I’d never come down. The bathroom seemed to be getting smaller and smaller, so I couldn’t stand to be in there for much longer. The colors were getting all weird.

I wiped the vomit off my shirt with toilet paper and then flushed everything away. Then I put the lid down, pulled up my jeans, and left the bathroom.

It was so bight outside the bathroom that I could barely keep my eyes open. I figured I should go down to the car and come down. But before I could even reach the stairs I tripped and fell face-first on the carpet. No one seemed to notice.

I started to get up, but the carpet was so soft. I rubbed it with my hands, then giggled and started rubbing my face against it. I didn’t realize I was making soft purring noises like a cat.

Everyone was looking at me, but I didn’t care. I kept rubbing myself against the carpet. I wanted to have sex with it. I started licking it. A few distorted groans of shock and disgust came from the crowd.

I was taking my shirt off when my Uncle Andy came up and grabbed hold of my shoulder.

“What in God’s name are you doing, boy?” He hissed. His voice was all weird and deep.

I look up at him with glassy eyes. His face was...moving. His eyes sparkled with colors and his flesh seemed to ripple like water. “What’s the matter with you, son? You’re acting like a damn fool here.” He leaned in. “Have you been drinking? Are you drunk?” Realization dawned on his distorted face.

“Did you take something? Have you been smoking the Mary Jane or something? Speak to me. What are you on, boy? Answer me, will you? What are you on?”

“I’m on the floor,” I said, giggling.

“Son, what did you take?” He asked. “You took drugs, didn’t you?”

“Prove it.” I said before passing out.

When I woke up I was lying in the back seat of my father’s Mercedes. He was sitting in the front seat and looking at me.

“Are you okay, James? You fainted. Andy thinks you might have taken something.” His eyes were piercing, accusatory.

“I’m feeling a bit under the weather.” I said, giggling softly as I passed out again.