I came to, head spinning and stomach turned upside down. It took a few seconds for my eyes to register my surroundings; it was pitch black, no lights were on. How did I get here? All that I could recall was lots of alcohol and dancing with my boyfriend and the gang... and that was pretty much it. So I must have passed out. I sat up, but it was just too much for my stomach to handle. I leaned over to the side and proceeded to puke my guts out. I vomited to that point where all you taste bile - how utterly disgusting, I know. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and tried to get up once more. My head protested, and when my stomach started to convulse once more, I decided that it might be safer to just lie back down on the couch and let another hour or so pass. I fell asleep, dreaming of orange juice flowing from one Royal Albert tea cup into the next, right above my head. I was waiting for it to spill over into my dry mouth, but every time, just before the orange juice could touch my lips, another tea cup would appear and the orange juice would pour into it. All I could do was watch the delicious, cold, wet orange juice flow, while I died of the thirst.
I woke up once more, feeling a lot better. It felt like a few hours had passed, but it was still pretty dark. I got up, still not feeling so hot and tried to make my way to a wall to feel for a light switch. On my way over I hit an object so hard with my shin, that I concluded that it couldn't possibly be made from an element of this earth. I let out a yelp as I tumbled forward, landing face first on the icy cold tiles. I laid there for a few seconds, softly mumbling/crying to myself, wishing someone would make the pain go away. I soon realized that it was very quiet, like, my mumbling was actually echoing back at me. I quieted down and listened, and it was too quiet. I got up and marched over to the wall, my hands flat against it searching for a light switch. When I found it I flipped it on, instantly blinding myself. I turned around to see the room through my squinted eyes. I was all alone apparently and I didn't recognise the place. I didn’t know how I’d gotten there or where Jake – my boyfriend – and the rest of the group were.
When I opened the front door, I noticed that I had been in a flat all along. I was on the top floor, it looked like it was about 4 stories high, and this flat was at the very end of the corridor. I started walking down the corridor, looking for a flight of stairs or a lift so that I could get to the parking lot and see if I could find Jake’s car. It was dark and cold, and eerily quiet. The corridor also seemed unusually long.
I was about half way through when I started to hear music – someone was playing the piano. It sounded like Lisa se klavier, but without Koos Kombuis’ voice or lyrics. I realised that the music was coming from the very next flat. When I passed it, the door was slightly ajar. I stopped. I took two steps back, and pushed the door open, very slowly. I suppose I was hoping to find someone whose phone I could borrow – because that would be the logical thing to do in that situation, but what I found, was very, very different. The layout of the flat was a carbon copy of the flat I’d woken up in. I stepped in through the front door into the open plan kitchen and living room area. There was a single floor lamp on in the far corner of the living room. Something about the warm glow of the light and the light sound of the piano sucked me right into the living room. At the far end of the room, was a door that opened up onto a balcony. The music was coming from there. I walked over the door and peeked out to see who was on the balcony. I cannot describe my reaction to what I saw. It was too awesome to express in mere words, but what I can tell you is what I witnessed in that flat that night; the balcony of that very ordinary flat, was carpeted with plush red fabric. A gigantic crystal chandelier hung low from the ceiling, casting bursts of moonlight into every direction. A small marble table was set at my end, with a bottle of champagne and one empty glass. But what was most striking about this extraordinary balcony, attached to this super ordinary flat, was on the other end of the balcony; a huge cream grand piano... and an English Bulldog, sitting on a piano stool, and a few pillows, playing Lisa se klavier.
“Help yourself to the champagne” the dog said, in a perfect English accent. I don’t think I moved or responded because the dog soon spoke again, “I’m afraid I am bound to this chair till 03h00, so you’ll have to pour your own champagne”. I was rather hung over and thirsty. If I couldn’t have orange juice, champagne would have to do. I popped the cork and champagne came bursting out. I stood there in a moment of shock before pouring the champagne. I took my first sip. I felt like my head was floating in the clouds. Everything just felt so unreal. I kept closing my eyes and reopening them thinking that the dog would disappear and my vision would adjust to something plausible. I wanted to ask the dog something, but I wasn’t sure what to ask. If I’d met an ordinary talking dog that could play piano, I might ask him how it was possible, but this was a posh dog. This dog had class. I might say something that would offend him, or worse yet, I might say something that would make me sound utterly unworldly. Like, where have I been the past ten years while the world embraced this snobby, talking, piano playing English Bulldog with a proper English accent? “So, what’s your name?” I finally managed. “Butch” he said. “hmmm, where are we, Butch?” I asked. With a name like Butch, I figured anything goes as far as questions are concerned. “We’re on my balcony” he answered, completely nonchalant. “Your boyfriend is downstairs though” he said. Just like that I was pulled back to reality and realised that this craziness started out with me looking for Jake. “What? What are you talking about? How do you know he’s downstairs?” It was as if I’d completely forgotten that Butch was a dog, and not a human. “He passed by here about an hour ago and there is but only one way to go, down”. I placed the glass of champagne back down on the marble table and ran out of the flat. When I got back to the corridor, the icy cold winter air hit me again. I hadn’t realised how cold it was while basking in the warm glow of the magical flat. I wrapped my arms around myself and marched towards the stairs.
I’d gone down two flights of stairs when I heard Jake call my name. It was coming from the top, so I figured that he was on the 3rd floor. I ran back up and into the corridor of the 3rd floor. It was pitch black. “Jake” I called out. I heard the distinct creak of a door toward the end of the corridor. I ran over. The door of the second last flat was open, but the security gate was locked. I wrapped my fingers around the bars and pressed my face through them, “Jake, are you in here” I whispered. I heard footsteps. Someone was coming to see who was at their door. Low and behold, a six foot clown appeared from around the corner. He had a huge-ass red nose, typical clown makeup and green hair on either side of his head. His forehead went on forever since he had a huge bald patch on the top of his head, which he hadn’t neglected when he painted his face. He was wearing a multicoloured clown onesie with giant black shoes. He smiled at me, “Hello, are you here for the party?” he asked, “ah... no, I’m looking for my boyfriend, Jake. Have you seen a young guy wandering around here?” “Maybe, did he come for the party?” Gee wiz, this clown was desperate for party guests. “No, he didn’t come for the party. Never mind” I said as I released my grip from the gate. I was about to walk away, when the clown spoke again, “Well if you’re not here for the party, what are you here for?” “Don’t worry, I’m sorry for bothering you, you have a good evening”, I turned around and started to walk back to the stairwell. I heard the security gate unlock behind me. I didn’t want to turn around; the idea of a creepy clown following me down the corridor in the darkest hours of the morning was more than a little unnerving. But then I heard “fetch her spike”.
Now well, I couldn’t exactly ignore that, could I? I turned to see who Spike was. Oh my fucking word. Spike was a Doberman with its skin on inside out and all four of its legs facing backwards. Spikes lips were curled backwards with his razor sharp teeth exposed and he was coming for me. I started to sprint as fast as I could, but the further I ran, the longer the corridor got. Spike soon caught up with me and it was then that I started to scream for help, hoping to wake one of the residents up so that I could find shelter in their flat. Spike lunged forward into my back, pushing me to the floor and ripping a chunk of flesh from my back with his razor sharp teeth. I started to scream hysterically. The very next flat door swung open and an old lady stepped out with a shotgun “Tell that fucking mutt to stand down or I’ll blow his brains out” she shouted. The clown whistled and Spike immediately recoiled. I started to cry, from shock I think. The old lady told me to get up before Bozo the clown let his mutt out again. I got up and walked over to the bad-ass old woman. “Let me take a look at that. Yep, it’s bad. You’re gonna have to go see the doc about that before you bleed to death” “The doc?” I asked. “Yeah, he’s on the second floor. He’ll stitch that right up, tell him Rose sent ya. Go on, before you faint from loss of blood”.
When I reached the second floor, I realised that I’d been in so much shock, that I’d forgotten to ask the little old lady what number the doc was at. I contemplated going back up, but I had the good sense to stay on the second floor. I’d rather have woken every person on that second floor than go back up there.
I knocked on the first door. It was as good a place as any to start looking for the doc, right? At the very least, I’d ask the person that opened the door, if they knew which number the doc stayed at. The door opened, but no one was there. This flat didn’t have a security gate on it. “Hello” the moment the word came out I recalled that this was exactly how the clown incident had started out. “Come in” I heard, from somewhere deep in the dark flat. “I’m looking for the doc, can you tell me which number he’s at?” I really didn’t want to go inside. This flat gave me the creeps. “I’m the doc, love. Come in; let me see if I can assist you”. Oh shit! I stepped in rather reluctantly. What were my options? Staying out here and bleeding to death? I walked down the passageway of the little flat, there were two rooms on the right, one on the left and one straight ahead. “Where are you?” I asked, not wanting to barge into the wrong room. “Here” he said. I could clearly hear that he was in the room straight ahead. I made my way towards him, nice and slow. I stepped into the room. The room was red – not like, the walls were painted red, I mean, the room had a red glow to it, but it was still dark. I could see the back of a man, wearing a white coat and leaning over a dissecting table. It was dark and with him in the way, I couldn’t quite see what he was doing. He was working with great care, whatever it was that he was doing. He extended his right hand and reached for a drill that was on the operating tray next to him. A drill??“ What can I do you for?” He asked. “Um... I was bitten, by a dog. I think I may be bleeding to death”. The doc stopped what he was doing and spun around. He was a frail looking little man. His eyes shone overly bright in the dark room. He smiled at me, “Bleeding to death hey? God knows I like the sound of that” He stood up and started to walk over to me. I then spotted what he’d been doing. He was dissecting one of my friends! Casey was stripped naked and her chest was split at the middle, the skin nicely removed and flapped over the sides of her chest like wings, to expose her ribs and internal organs. “Trusty old Rose, always sending me a new toy when my old one breaks” the doc said, lifting his hand and smoothing a bloody scalpel down the side of my cheek. It was in that instant that I decided that I was not bleeding to death, but rather, that I would be bleeding to death very soon, if I didn’t make a run for it.
I stormed out the flat and towards the stairwell, only, the stairwell was no longer there. It was a dead end. I turned on my heel; the doc was standing in front of his flat, smiling at me. I pushed past him with so much force that he fell to the floor. He let out a cry. I turned to look and saw that he’d fallen into his own scalpel; it was sticking into his ribcage. I decided that it still wasn’t safe, and if I were to live through this night, I couldn’t stop running. There was a stairwell on the other end of the corridor. I ran down the stairwell as fast as my legs to carry me. When I got the first floor, the stairwell stopped, which meant, it probably continued on the other end of the corridor. I started running towards the other end of the corridor when I passed an open flat. Something in that flat caught my eye and brought me to an abrupt stop.
I stood still for a moment, trying both to catch my breath and to calm my racing heart. When I felt like I’d managed to compose myself, I turned around and stood in front of the open flat. Again, let me remind you that it was the darkest hours of the early morning. But a twinkle of light shone from the kitchen counter of this flat. It looked like every other flat I’d just been in, but there was a single item on the kitchen counter that separated this flat from the rest; an egg - a golden egg the size of a chicken’s egg. It radiated light. Other than the glowing egg, all the lights appeared to be off. I wondered if anyone was home (or awake). I took a step inside. I didn’t want to, but I felt like I was gravitating toward the egg. No one jumped of a dark corner with an axe. Nothing grabbed me by the ankles to drag me across the floor. So it must be safe, I figured. I walked up to the egg. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I picked it up and held it between my palms. It was warm and buzzing. I sniffed the egg (don’t ask me why), and it smelled of candy. I was still busy losing myself in the egg’s charm, when the buzz turned into a crack. I got such a shock that I immediately returned the egg to the counter and took a few steps back. Slowly, the egg started to hatch. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of it; what would come out? A dragon? A phoenix? A magical goose? But then, when the creature inside revealed itself, my heart came to a standstill.
There stood Jake, in all his glory; naked and shining like a mini Greek god. “Jake?” I fell to my knees and covered my mouth with my hands. “What’s wrong?” he asked. I didn’t know where to begin. How? What happened? “You’re... You’re so... small” I could hear the tremor in my own voice. “Gee thanks babe, that’s exactly what a guy wants to hear when the takes his pants off” – I thought he was making a joke. Making light of the situation. “Are you okay?” He asked, holding out his hand. I stood up and walked over to the counter, he was holding an odd looking brown mushroom, “They really mess you up huh?” I didn’t know what he was talking about. “It’s been hours, are you still trippin’?” he pressed. “I don’t know what you mean” I confessed. Jake started to laugh. The more he laughed, the harder he laughed, and the harder he laughed, the more he grew, till he was his fully grown self again. I started to cry. All of this, everything that had happened, was just too much to handle. Jake reached out and pulled me into his embrace. “Don’t worry, it’ll soon be over. Next time we’ll just use oyster mushrooms in our Linguine hey?”
I woke up with the bright sun shining in my face. I was in on the kitchen floor next to Jake. When I sat up I noticed that I had vomit on my shirt. Jake groaned next to me. “Hey! Hey Jake” I was shaking him, trying to get him to wake up. “I’m awake” he said. “Why did we sleep in the kitchen?” I asked. “I found you here last night. You were standing in front of the egg tray, crying for me. I couldn’t get you to move, so I just held you here until you tired out.” “Really?” I was quite amazed. I remembered things a little differently. “I think my ‘shroom was laced with acid” I said. I lay back down on the kitchen floor and closed my eyes. It felt like I hadn’t slept in days. I thought back to the night before and the series of events that followed – in my mind anyway. “Did I leave the house at all?” “No, we were here all night.” Jake started to get up “Come, let’s go to bed”.
I held out my hand so that Jake could help me up. My whole body felt like it was buzzing. An old photo of my grandparents caught my eye in the passageway. In the room, I noticed that my porcelain clown had fallen off my dressing table and was lying on the floor, in my Doberman pinscher’s bed. Spike seemed pretty pleased; he had the clown’s head between his paws, licking its face like it was a lollipop. I undressed, happy to be vomit-free and then cuddled up to Jake. “I wonder where the English bulldog came from.” I thought aloud. “Huh?” Jake didn’t know what I was on about. “Never mind” I said, as I dosed off to never-never land once again.
Author’s note: this is a fictional story. I have never taken magic mushrooms and do not know what the effects are. This story was inspired by a weird-ass dream I had.
Now well, I couldn’t exactly ignore that, could I? I turned to see who Spike was. Oh my fucking word. Spike was a Doberman with its skin on inside out and all four of its legs facing backwards. Spikes lips were curled backwards with his razor sharp teeth exposed and he was coming for me. I started to sprint as fast as I could, but the further I ran, the longer the corridor got. Spike soon caught up with me and it was then that I started to scream for help, hoping to wake one of the residents up so that I could find shelter in their flat. Spike lunged forward into my back, pushing me to the floor and ripping a chunk of flesh from my back with his razor sharp teeth. I started to scream hysterically. The very next flat door swung open and an old lady stepped out with a shotgun “Tell that fucking mutt to stand down or I’ll blow his brains out” she shouted. The clown whistled and Spike immediately recoiled. I started to cry, from shock I think. The old lady told me to get up before Bozo the clown let his mutt out again. I got up and walked over to the bad-ass old woman. “Let me take a look at that. Yep, it’s bad. You’re gonna have to go see the doc about that before you bleed to death” “The doc?” I asked. “Yeah, he’s on the second floor. He’ll stitch that right up, tell him Rose sent ya. Go on, before you faint from loss of blood”.
When I reached the second floor, I realised that I’d been in so much shock, that I’d forgotten to ask the little old lady what number the doc was at. I contemplated going back up, but I had the good sense to stay on the second floor. I’d rather have woken every person on that second floor than go back up there.
I knocked on the first door. It was as good a place as any to start looking for the doc, right? At the very least, I’d ask the person that opened the door, if they knew which number the doc stayed at. The door opened, but no one was there. This flat didn’t have a security gate on it. “Hello” the moment the word came out I recalled that this was exactly how the clown incident had started out. “Come in” I heard, from somewhere deep in the dark flat. “I’m looking for the doc, can you tell me which number he’s at?” I really didn’t want to go inside. This flat gave me the creeps. “I’m the doc, love. Come in; let me see if I can assist you”. Oh shit! I stepped in rather reluctantly. What were my options? Staying out here and bleeding to death? I walked down the passageway of the little flat, there were two rooms on the right, one on the left and one straight ahead. “Where are you?” I asked, not wanting to barge into the wrong room. “Here” he said. I could clearly hear that he was in the room straight ahead. I made my way towards him, nice and slow. I stepped into the room. The room was red – not like, the walls were painted red, I mean, the room had a red glow to it, but it was still dark. I could see the back of a man, wearing a white coat and leaning over a dissecting table. It was dark and with him in the way, I couldn’t quite see what he was doing. He was working with great care, whatever it was that he was doing. He extended his right hand and reached for a drill that was on the operating tray next to him. A drill??“ What can I do you for?” He asked. “Um... I was bitten, by a dog. I think I may be bleeding to death”. The doc stopped what he was doing and spun around. He was a frail looking little man. His eyes shone overly bright in the dark room. He smiled at me, “Bleeding to death hey? God knows I like the sound of that” He stood up and started to walk over to me. I then spotted what he’d been doing. He was dissecting one of my friends! Casey was stripped naked and her chest was split at the middle, the skin nicely removed and flapped over the sides of her chest like wings, to expose her ribs and internal organs. “Trusty old Rose, always sending me a new toy when my old one breaks” the doc said, lifting his hand and smoothing a bloody scalpel down the side of my cheek. It was in that instant that I decided that I was not bleeding to death, but rather, that I would be bleeding to death very soon, if I didn’t make a run for it.
I stormed out the flat and towards the stairwell, only, the stairwell was no longer there. It was a dead end. I turned on my heel; the doc was standing in front of his flat, smiling at me. I pushed past him with so much force that he fell to the floor. He let out a cry. I turned to look and saw that he’d fallen into his own scalpel; it was sticking into his ribcage. I decided that it still wasn’t safe, and if I were to live through this night, I couldn’t stop running. There was a stairwell on the other end of the corridor. I ran down the stairwell as fast as my legs to carry me. When I got the first floor, the stairwell stopped, which meant, it probably continued on the other end of the corridor. I started running towards the other end of the corridor when I passed an open flat. Something in that flat caught my eye and brought me to an abrupt stop.
I stood still for a moment, trying both to catch my breath and to calm my racing heart. When I felt like I’d managed to compose myself, I turned around and stood in front of the open flat. Again, let me remind you that it was the darkest hours of the early morning. But a twinkle of light shone from the kitchen counter of this flat. It looked like every other flat I’d just been in, but there was a single item on the kitchen counter that separated this flat from the rest; an egg - a golden egg the size of a chicken’s egg. It radiated light. Other than the glowing egg, all the lights appeared to be off. I wondered if anyone was home (or awake). I took a step inside. I didn’t want to, but I felt like I was gravitating toward the egg. No one jumped of a dark corner with an axe. Nothing grabbed me by the ankles to drag me across the floor. So it must be safe, I figured. I walked up to the egg. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I picked it up and held it between my palms. It was warm and buzzing. I sniffed the egg (don’t ask me why), and it smelled of candy. I was still busy losing myself in the egg’s charm, when the buzz turned into a crack. I got such a shock that I immediately returned the egg to the counter and took a few steps back. Slowly, the egg started to hatch. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of it; what would come out? A dragon? A phoenix? A magical goose? But then, when the creature inside revealed itself, my heart came to a standstill.
There stood Jake, in all his glory; naked and shining like a mini Greek god. “Jake?” I fell to my knees and covered my mouth with my hands. “What’s wrong?” he asked. I didn’t know where to begin. How? What happened? “You’re... You’re so... small” I could hear the tremor in my own voice. “Gee thanks babe, that’s exactly what a guy wants to hear when the takes his pants off” – I thought he was making a joke. Making light of the situation. “Are you okay?” He asked, holding out his hand. I stood up and walked over to the counter, he was holding an odd looking brown mushroom, “They really mess you up huh?” I didn’t know what he was talking about. “It’s been hours, are you still trippin’?” he pressed. “I don’t know what you mean” I confessed. Jake started to laugh. The more he laughed, the harder he laughed, and the harder he laughed, the more he grew, till he was his fully grown self again. I started to cry. All of this, everything that had happened, was just too much to handle. Jake reached out and pulled me into his embrace. “Don’t worry, it’ll soon be over. Next time we’ll just use oyster mushrooms in our Linguine hey?”
I woke up with the bright sun shining in my face. I was in on the kitchen floor next to Jake. When I sat up I noticed that I had vomit on my shirt. Jake groaned next to me. “Hey! Hey Jake” I was shaking him, trying to get him to wake up. “I’m awake” he said. “Why did we sleep in the kitchen?” I asked. “I found you here last night. You were standing in front of the egg tray, crying for me. I couldn’t get you to move, so I just held you here until you tired out.” “Really?” I was quite amazed. I remembered things a little differently. “I think my ‘shroom was laced with acid” I said. I lay back down on the kitchen floor and closed my eyes. It felt like I hadn’t slept in days. I thought back to the night before and the series of events that followed – in my mind anyway. “Did I leave the house at all?” “No, we were here all night.” Jake started to get up “Come, let’s go to bed”.
I held out my hand so that Jake could help me up. My whole body felt like it was buzzing. An old photo of my grandparents caught my eye in the passageway. In the room, I noticed that my porcelain clown had fallen off my dressing table and was lying on the floor, in my Doberman pinscher’s bed. Spike seemed pretty pleased; he had the clown’s head between his paws, licking its face like it was a lollipop. I undressed, happy to be vomit-free and then cuddled up to Jake. “I wonder where the English bulldog came from.” I thought aloud. “Huh?” Jake didn’t know what I was on about. “Never mind” I said, as I dosed off to never-never land once again.
Author’s note: this is a fictional story. I have never taken magic mushrooms and do not know what the effects are. This story was inspired by a weird-ass dream I had.
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