A Good Trip

He was a noxious boy, skinny, pale. He thought it would be a better idea to take antidepressants before school and drop acid before he went to bed every night. Nobody talked to him, they could see the bags. They could smell the beer, knew there were pills somewhere involved, just not exactly sure. His name was Danny. Danny wasn't the average Joe. Sure, he heard the famous line, "You're going to be someone special one day." "You're going to make it." but Danny didn't believe it. It was due to his disbelief that lead to his destruction.

Danny, every night, would take a couple of Xanax before he would drop his acid, in search of some peace. Going through a divorce, failing school, and not really sure of his identity all lead him down this road. He would blast XXYYXX in the midst of his mood making moments. Sometimes he would regurgitate the pills other times he would just drool and stare out in space, clueless... his body all numb, feeble.

Danny tripped one night and thought that he was having a good trip. He saw his self flying around over a dewy piece of grass with the sun in his eyes. He could feel the air and he noticed how nice the atmosphere hugged him. The universe was merciless upon his soul, everything was a charm. Danny fell asleep in the grass, hugging it, rolling in it... He laughed aloud. He laughed aloud so loud that his parents came in through his room door.

"Danny! That fucking alarm clock!" His mother yelled at him... she unplugged it from the socket and was about to throw it towards him, until she looked up. There, senseless in his closet, Danny was upon a noose. She screamed aloud so loud that the father came in through his room door.