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"The Party"
By: Aran

Another sip. Slowly you close your eyes. It takes even more
time to open them again. The music slows down until there
is nothing left but a steady beat, a steady drum and
ominous vocals. The outside world reaches you with
hesitation, blurry around the edges but intense in the
middle. Depth is being screwed-up. Laws of physics are
disobeyed in a subtle way. You see things that cannot be.
Your body becomes a shell with nothing in it except for a
small bouncing ball of conscious. Every signal of pressure
or touch upon your skin reaches you only centuries later.
The interaction with everything around you slows down,
almost to a halt. You notice people trying to communicate
with you, but you fail to comply. You try to push the ball
of consciousness around your body, let it bounce against
the inner walls. Sometimes the resistance is big, sometimes
the little ball moves with great ease. You can see the
image of the outside world drifting away from you. It feels
like you?re looking through a porthole fitted with tinted
glass, over 2 feet thick. Everything you see is deformed
by the glass. You can see someone looking in. The face
seems familiar. You try to give some sort of a signal to
the person but you fail to remember how. The face
dissappears but two new faces take it?s place. They stare
into the porthole for a while, appearantly trying to find
something, then they look at each other and shake their
heads. All of a sudden your sense of direction goes crazy.
It seems you?re being moved but you have no idea where. The
image changes so rapidly you cannot understand it. You
feel your arms and legs are being handled and get the idea
you?re struggling against this but you can?t remember
wishing to do so. After a while everything stabilizes
again. While so far the only thing you?ve been watching is
the ceiling, now you can see the whole room. Figures are
moving in it, apparently more or less moving to the beat.
One of the figures moves towards you and peeks in through
the porthole. Again. You feel something like affection.
Something deeper. It seems the girl is looking for
something. You keep your little ball of consciousness on
the other side of the 2 feet thick glass. You show it to
her but she can?t see it. With a bang the little ball
explodes and fills your body. The delay between the two
worlds is shorter now, but the glass is still there. You
manage to stretch an arm and run your fingers through her
hair. You see her grabbing your hand and holding it and a
few moments later you can feel it too. Slowly darkness
sets in. It stays dark for a long long time while
thoughts shoot through your head like bolts of lightning,
but carrying no images. Just darkness. Slowly the darkness
is pulled off of you and light re-emerges. The tinted glass
is still there. The light is yellow, and orange, and it
dances happily. It moves around in different shapes and
forms. You can still see the room, it is filled with the
light, however there are no figures moving anymore. Just
some shapeless piles on the floor. The light is
everywhere. All around them. All around you. Only then a
stabbing, burning pain reaches your consciousness, that had
taken on the form of a little ball again. Slowly the
meaning of the light and the pain flows through your veins,
through your mind. You suddenly feel sick and throw up. You
can see how one of the shapeless piles starts moving. It
pulls itself along, towards you. You recognise her on the
moment she uses her last energy to reach out for you. Her
sleeve and the rest of her clothing is burning. You
stretch your arm towards her and try to reach her, touch
her but you fail. You see how she collapses, face down on
the floor, being taken over by the flames, her arm still
reaching out. For hours you just lay there, forced to watch
her burn. For hours you just lay there, quietly dying.
Then, finally, comes the long awaited... death.

(c)opyright 1998 by Aran