I used a 3-foot water bong, and packed myself a large snapper (single-hit). I took the full hit, finishing the bowl and clearing the chamber, then sat back and handed the bong off to Y. Then I exhaled. Before my lungs were cleared, the world had vanished. I found myself in a vibrant, amazing world, directly out a video game. I went along with the trip, managing to suppress a growing fear and panic so long as I allowed myself to be pulled in. As near as I can recall, I was clearing imaginary hurdles in a cartoon world, when, all of a sudden, one of the hurdles shifted and moved in such a way that it was impossible to pass. (I believe that at this point I was trying to climb Y, who had taken a much lighter dose and was far more coherent.)

At this point I began to panic. After a few moments, I realized the hurdle was my companion, who was trying to exit the room. When I realized this was her intent, the panic exploded full blown, and I officially began the 'bad trip' part of the experience. I was so terrified I completely forgot about my companion, who had successfully escaped the room. I tried to return to the bed, but my legs gave out beneath me. So I staggered to my feet, only to fall again. This occured again and again for what felt like hours. During this time I felt as if I was traveling, and with every step the world changed, plunging through different planes of existence; a tour of the infinite worlds of the 'other side'. I was seeing the worlds rush past like the pages of a book, so swiftly I could barely begin to marvel at them before they were gone. A sound arose as I journeyed, a repetitive sound that worked it's way through my ears and into my whole body, one I realised I had been hearing for the entire trip. Ee-er-ee-er-ee-er... Unceasingly, until I was ready to scream to escape the noise, while at the same time I felt as if something else was there with me, somehow intimately tied to the sound. It was... a powerful, evil entity... an angry child of infinite proportions... I felt as if something could sense my presence, and knew I was an interloper. I felt like a toy in child's box, and I also could feel that it was furious at my presence, furious because I was tied to the real world.

While tripping, that tie was the deep subconscious certitude that I would eventually emerge again, sane and sober, from the other side of the experience. It's the calm acceptance of the trip that every head develops, that allows navigation through the stormy waves of a psychedelic storm. The horrible, unknowable thing tried to pull me deeper in, and I felt that tie begin to break. I knew that if it did, I would never be sober or sane again. I fought it; as hard as I could I forced myself to relax and remember that all things must pass, even this nightmare. While I fought I stopped trying to stand and so endless change of perspective, as well as the shock of falling to the ground began to fade. (I had no bruises and so must assume that I managed to catch myself and avoid any real impact, but it was still a rough landing.) It felt like days, but slowly that terrifying peak passed and the presence faded as the world returned. The intolerable sound became once more merely the noise of my roommates speaking, and all of a sudden I could recognize my surroundings. It had been fifteen minutes since I took that hit and began my adventure.

Another thirty minutes, and I felt I had recovered from the trauma, and was ready to go smoke a cigarette outside. Y and myself didn't speak, to each other or anyone else. We just held each other quietly for a while, and then spent the next hour alone. I wasn't even able to remember the trip itself a few hours later, just a terrible feeling of panic. My memory was only pieced together in a following attempt, at much lower dosages. I had never before experienced a bad trip like that. All of my previous experience, and even later experiences, failed completely to prepare me for it. I have never felt so close to being lost, not even in my first bad trip ten years before, long before I had learned to embrace the high. It will always serve as a reminder to me that no matter how experienced a psychonaut one may become, no matter how many times through the looking glass, you must always treat new substances with proper respect. It's not only the unwary and inexperienced who are at risk. Psychedelics can always be a surprise, and you never know what awaits you on the other side. Overconfidence and carelessness can be disastrous.