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The Magic Mushroom - Seven Fingers

by Ayanamaste

I felt like crap. Devon had given me a brown powdered material last night, telling me that it was the perfect getaway I was looking for. He had called it something with an M. Magic Mushrooms. They had helped me take it, and for the first time, I didn't care about anything anymore. I forgot completely that my dad was dead or that my mother was an abusive alcoholic. I forgot about the series of tests I had coming up or the fact that I didn't have a girlfriend. I felt like I was floating. As if I was in a state of pure...bliss. But as quickly as it came, it crashed and burned. Now I'm in the most depressing state of my life, more depressed than seeing my dad being buried six feet under. I need to get away from this feeling. I want the mushrooms. I need the mushrooms. And I will stop at nothing to get them. The lunch bell rang, and I covered my ears, nearly wailing. Cheyenne sauntered over to my desk, obviously amused. "The effect doesn't wear off for a while. It's smart to take more." She said. "I would if I had more," I retored. She leaned towards me, sliding something in my hands. I didn't have to look to know what it was. I gave her a quick thanks before leaving for the bathroom. I banged open the bathroom door, feeling happy. Things swirved and melted into each other, making my mood even lighter. It wasn't long until I felt the floor beneath me. I should have felt pain, but I didn't. All I could do was stare up at the ceiling. "Scott..." Someone called. "Scott, are you alright?" I recognized that voice. It sounded like...Jack. My friend, Jack. I saw Jack reach out to me, pulling me up. I stared hard at his hands, trying to focus, but it wasn't working. "Jack," I said. I sounded speech impaired. "Why do you have seven fingers?" I could feel Jack's eyes on me. "You're pupils are dilated and you smell bad." Jack rummaged through my pockets, pulling out what was left of the mushrooms. There was barely any left. "I hear colours, Jack." I giggled. "Scott? Have you been taking drugs?" "You mean my mushrooms?" Jack looked confused. "What?" "You know, Psilocybin, Magic Mushrooms, shrooms, fungus..." Jack's face hardened. I wasn't sure why he was so serious. Why couldn't he just relax? "Fungus Delight." Jack finished. His grip on my arm tightened. "You have to stop, Scott." "I see the music, Jack." I said. "And it's telling you to lighten up."

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31 Reviews

Points: 885
Reviews: 31

Sun Apr 01, 2012 7:32 pm
FallenAngel97 wrote a review...

This is good, but I feel like you need to add a bit more. Be a bit more descriptive. Think of the five senses when you are writing. See, smell, taste, touch hear. What did you see? what were your surroundings? What did it smell like? Taste like? What did you hear? were the voices of your characters deep or high pitched? What did the characters look like? Always ask yourself these questions when you are writing. It will help you and your reader really get a good feel for the story and help them know what is going on. When I read something I expect to be able to see the image in my head. (Not trying to sound like a prick, it was really good. I loved the story line, just add a bit more)

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Points: 934
Reviews: 2

Sun Apr 01, 2012 6:22 pm
Ayanamaste says...

Again, there were supposed to be two paragraphs. I still have problems with spacing T_T
The second paragraph starts from "I banged open the bathroom door..."
I'm still trying to figure out how to make my work appear decent (double spaced, with dialogue on the second line instead of it all bunched up together).
Hopefully I'll get it fixed soon. Bear with it for now. I'm pleading here D':

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.
— JRR Tolkien