Red Rain Drops

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
After his father committed suicide several years back, Duke, a young boy attending a community college outside Detroit takes a chance at experiencing an untested and powerful hallucinogen known as "Red Rain Drops." Through his twisted and mind-altering experience, he is brought face to face with repressed memories, bottled up emotions, and bad choices he made as they manifest during his slip from reality. Upon returning he realizes that every scene he saw was a two-sided moment where he could have done something to save his fathers life. In the end, he ultimately reaches full understanding of what he could have done to make a difference.

Submitted: December 04, 2011

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Submitted: December 04, 2011

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Red Rain Drops

When my eyes opened, I was blinded. The light from the dull yellow ceiling above me beat down making my eyes want to recede. The blurriness began to subside and I blinked a few times, took a deep breath and grabbed my knees to pull myself up. “What is this place?” I murmured to myself, I felt around on the ground and felt dampness in the carpet. I couldn’t think straight and for some reason and everything seemed so vivid; I had awoken in a completely destroyed room, furniture torn apart, paper crumbles scattered topped with a shitty smell lingering in the air. I could see the yellow bracelet that my dad had bought me ripped into two pieces laying by the doorway. I glanced at the window above the desk along the far wall; the words on the glass revealed a part of what happened. In large sloppy letters, “you killed him.”

. . . . . . . . . . . .

“If you forget about giving us a call Duke, so help me…”

“Mom you know me, I’ll be callin’ in a few days,” I had to reassure her. I hung up the phone and walked back to my dorm room, she never really saw me much anymore. I was going to a small college on the outskirts of Detroit and made an attempt to stop in and see her when I could. My world was different nowadays, losing my dad made me want to lose myself, but at least I still had my mom and her antics to keep me somewhat sane. I never really had the full connection with my dad, but what can I say, we were different. Interests clashed, desires went awry, and a laundry list of problems accumulated and set fire to what happened last fall. But those ideas keep me from dwelling on it. All I really had left of my dad were a good memory or two, and my bracelet. My dad had a yellow bracelet he wore for longer than I can remember, but after he passed it to me; I never took it off either.

On the brighter side I had what I needed around the dorm complex, enough to keep me on my feet and walking. I had a couple close friends and one was Robby. When people asked ‘would you jump off a bridge if someone asked you to’, Robby was the guy who would take the first jump, and make a fool of himself. We always stretched the boundaries of right and wrong but could always keep our heads on tight for the ride.

“Duke, what you up to tonight man?”

“Nothing special Robby, got an exam tomorrow, but I think I’ll be alright. Might just kick back and have a few beers instead.” On a normal day, I never really had an outline. Every day was taken in one at a time, and I didn’t know where things were headed. The guys mentioned earlier how they were all going out to some place but I never really put it to thought. I knew these guys were trouble, but they were my buddies, and hell, I was trouble. So I decided to join them.

We left the dorm complex in Rob’s little red Jetta, and made it off campus before 10 o’clock. We made a stop at some random white house with gutters barely attached to the window frame; Rob went in. He came back in only a few minutes, I didn’t know why we stopped but I didn’t really care. Rob started the car and pulled off.

We made it across town and to a friend’s house around 10:30 and all got out of the car. We walked into the house with Rob leading the pack and noticed only a few people in the house. They sat in a circle around the coffee table, the house was decorated with tapestries and band posters. I would say I felt comfortable. I made the attempt to strike conversation, but there was a strange vibe in the air.

“Alright guys when you wanna do this?” said John, one of the owners of the house. “This shit is nothin’ to mess around with guys, are you sure you’re all ready?”

“Ready for what?” I quickly asked back.

“Rob didn’t say nothin? Well here, take a look. We got a new shipment of some very new and very pure stuff. These are blotter tabs of Red Rain Drops, a strong and potent hallucinogenic. It’s been making its way around the complex but I have not yet personally tried it.”

At that point I’d realized that we were all coming over to this house to experiment away with some new drug. I have worked my way through the treasure chest of random drugs, and at 19, who’s going to say no? I was a person who could confront addiction, yet at the same time blur the barrier between “just enough” and “overdose.” But aside from my ways, I never fell into any hole, and was good at jumping them; with the condition that I needed my own release every once in a while just like any other person. On the other hand, I knew only a little about the world of hallucinogenics. I had a small handful of acid trips and boomer drops throughout high school when the occasion arose, but these Red Rain Drops were being oddly hyped up.

The two hands aligned at 11:00 and things were starting to calm down. Everybody gathered in a circle by the television, and John brought out the goodies. John was your average dealer, tall and skinny with a buzz-cut; but a decent guy it seemed. He opened up a small baggie and placed the square shaped blotter tablets on the table between us all. We had all been talking about the drug for the past half hour and I wasn’t fazed by any of it, or at least I tried to put on that face. Rob and I looked at one another briefly as we all started grabbing tablets “Good luck...” John said and within 20 minutes, I had lost track of how many red rain drops had fallen on my tongue. I glanced at my bracelet and its grip grew tighter on my wrist.

I took a deep breath as I closed my eyes, my chest was hit with anxiousness, and things felt so light. I opened my eyes and I was by myself. I had not moved, walked anywhere, even stood up, and everyone around me was absent. I couldn’t tell where I was but I started walking straight. The pictures around me began melting away with the walls and things began to turn white in the distance, but the light was coming closer. My body was slowly fading away as a weightlessness feeling took over. The light had surrounded me, but my body was gone, I was an observer.

The brightness subsided and I could faintly see two figures emerging from the haze. Every object I could see was recognizable, but had a hazy glow surrounding it. The two people were distinctly people, but their faces, even their clothes were rippling like water as wind scrapes its surface. As things became more crisp I could see a boy around the age of 12 or 13 maybe and what seemed to be his father, or his mother. In the midst of this world I had entered, I was depicting this scene of a boy running to his mother. This came clear when the hair rolled down from her head. The father was in the other room watching television, alone with a glass in his hand. The image shook, and everyone disappeared again. The space around me became perfectly clear and again became empty.

A tunnel was in front of me at the instant I recognized who those people were. Before I could finish the thought I was ripped down through the hole and couldn’t hold on, I was falling apart. Through this spinning vortex I emerged in a familiar place, again. It was the front porch of my old house. I could hear voices now and things were becoming more distinct. It was my dad on the top step and at the bottom was a boy. It was me. As the face became clear, I could hear the words more clearly.

“What the hell would urge you to steal my car? You are grounded!” he screamed with a delaying echo.

“I hate you.” replied the boy as I watched him flick off my dad and storm off down the street. And I knew what happened that night, I didn’t come home. But in this view I saw more than from the memory, I saw tears roll down my dad’s face; he was holding the yellow bracelet in his hand as I stormed off in rage.

I had zero control of everything happening around me, my body was completely gone. So much was being released into sight, the depths of everything I had repressed was breaking through the barrier. Color surrounded me. Images started flashing and the process was starting to speed up. Everything I could see had faces, an essence, even life. I could feel the raw power of everything in my chest being released and placed around me. I was a puppet with strings made of memories; the strings had all the control.

There were reoccurring images of my dad and my mother; I was the mortar holding it together. I was so uncomfortable at this point, but I was so beyond consciously being able to contain any of it. The light began to fade and the world around me was diminishing as everything went to black.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

When my eyes opened, I was blinded. The light from the dull yellow ceiling above me was beat down making my eyes want to recede. The blurriness began to subside and I blinked a few times, took a deep breath and grabbed my knees to pull myself up. I can’t think straight and everything seems so vivid, like I had opened my eyes for the first time. I had awoken in a completely destroyed room, furniture torn apart, paper crumbles scattered topped with a shitty smell lingering in the air. I glanced at the window above the desk along the far wall, the words on the glass revealed a part of what happened. In large sloppy letters, “you killed him.”

As time had passed, I realized it was over. I was slowly beginning to comprehend what happened as feeling reentered my body. I laid there and attempted to unscramble this entire clusterfuck of a Friday night; but time was lapsed. The manifestations, the hallucinations, everything, was all an accumulation of things that led to the end for him, it was so clear. I picked up the remnants of my bracelet and began to cry. My head began to throb. I couldn’t explain how any of this happened, how I got in this room, or even where I’ve been. But I knew who wrote those words on the broken glass window.


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