It was a basic Monday evening for me, meaning I had lazed about and flirted with unrestrained lust, but this day became something more for me, in ways I would never want. You see, my step-dad had bought this new stuff online called Barely Legal. Apparently it was some sort of fake pot and we were gonna try it out.
I took a hit and sat back into a chair. Nothing happened, so I took a massive hit and almost instantly I started feeling light-headed, but it didn’t stop there; soon I was having waves after wave of distorted reality. I knew right then this wasn’t what I wanted and I wasn’t gonna hit anymore. I just wanted it to stop.
That is when it really hit me. I went from that high state to black with a strange barrage of colors and sounds, but at such a high intensity that I was unaware that I had a body. I even had trouble remembering my name or whether any of this was real. All that I had was this swirling feeling and pain—loads of pain. At this point I was screaming, “I am in hell! I am in hell!” over and over. Whether I was in that state for a few minutes or years I couldn’t tell. All I know is that the sounds started changing; I could hear my step-dad calling to me. Then I would swirl around and it would get lost in the numbing pain and colors. By this point I had stopped wondering about hell because I think I had gone mad for awhile. The swirling grew faster and my step-dad’s voice broke through the fog. Then the swirling grew faster still, the colors became less diverse and blended together to make white. The sounds also grew louder and more harsh. I had the feeling all of a sudden that I was falling, and a hand came out of the darkness, unseen only felt, that suddenly clasped an arm that I didn’t even know I had. I held on with all my might as the tempest of pain grew faster still and the sounds became a shriek loud enough to make ears bleed. The light became more blinding, then all of a sudden it stopped.
I was looking into my shed and it was growing more clear. I remember screaming, my whole body convulsing as I came to. Slowly I was able to remember who I was and that I was not in hell but still alive. The arm that I had gripped with so much desperation was my stepfather’s. He was cradling my body and sobbing, praying to our Lord for mercy.
Now you can think that this is some half-baked story, or that I was just experiencing a bad trip, but my friends I know I’m a sinner and do wicked things. So as for me, I know I was in hell, or at least that I experienced the punishment set for me if I don’t change my ways. There is nothing more eye-opening than being in total darkness with no memories, nothing but pain and whirling noise. So I hope you pay heed to my confession brothers and sisters in Christ so you may never have to suffer what I went through.