By: Jeremy Ridnor
The drops of vodka diluted the various technicolor botches of paint. The paint pallet now looked similar to a weeping clown. The gasoline-like liquid burned Harry’s throat as he rinsed it down into his system. With nearly two-thirds of the vodka bottle gone, Harry momentarily ceased drinking in order to take breath. Harry gasped for air as if he was just holding his breath under water, and then he let out a boisterous belch which was then followed by a small amount of vomit. His throat was on fire, but at least his tongue was starting to numb up a little bit. Harry’s eyes suddenly began to tear up as if he was going to cry. He hesitated for a split second in order to compose himself and then proceeded to chug the rest of the bottle down. In a way Harry welcomed the siring pain he felt as the hard liquor ran down his throat. After Harry finished the bottle of vodka he began to stare at the empty translucent bottle in a kind of a particular way. A deranged glint sparkled in his eyes as he stared deeply into this bottle. His gripped tighten around the neck of the bottle as if he was trying to choke the life out of it and then in a moment of rage he threw the bottle across the room. The glass bottle soared in the air briefly, until it inevitably embraced the wall which made the glass splatter precariously around room.
Harry ran his fingers through his long blonde hair. It was damp from times he missed his mouth. His cerebellum was off which caused him to sway back and fourth. His inebriated smile quickly contorted into to a grimacing expression. Pools of water collected in his eyes. He was man of integrity and he never cried, but the build up was too much. With that a single tear rolled down his check. He didn’t wipe it away, he just let it linger there until it slowly traveled down to his chin and drip onto the floor. A slight whimpering sound could be heard followed by an army of tears. His breathing increased and his pulse began to become more rapid. The room started to spin out of control.
Harry had to stop this pain, and he knew just the thing that would do it. He started to waddle forward but he could not keep his balance and he fell face first to the ground. He was completely disoriented but he saw what he wanted in the distance. He crawled like a wounded animal. Harry was now face to face with it. He looked into the black beety eyes of this creature before he grasped it. He gently stroked the cold creature’s and waited for it to secrete its venom. The squirmed back and for in the palm of Harry’s hand. A moment later the defensive slimy venom secreted out of the creature’s back. Harry stuck out his red tongue and began circling his tongue counter-clockwise around the blistering backside of the toad.
His tongue became numb and the sweet bitter tanginess lingered on the tips of his taste buds. A euphoric wave rushed over Harry’s body. He felt nothing except a slight tingling sensation that sprinkled down every fiber of his body. He watched as the small blonde hairs became erected like springs on a mattress. In addition an infantry of bumps sprouted up across his arm creating a field of Goosebumps. The pain he had felt in head when he had fallen onto the ground slowly faded away like a bad memory. He felt completely at peace with himself. He could hear his heart pounding like a big drum being hit over and over again. The rate of his heart increased as it resonated through the core of his body. His finger tips and toes began to feel a kiss of coldness. However the rest of his body felt relatively warm.
Beads of sweets collected in the alcove of Harry’s infranasal depression as well as the outskirts of his hairline. He gently wiped away the perspiration on his forehead and then proceed to take off his green and black flannel shirt. He then proceed to open up his only window. He savored the fresh cool air that caressed his pale skin. There was a full moon out tonight. Harry stood facing the moon just staring with wonderment twinkling in his eye. The lunar light shined on Harry’s exposed chest. He never remember the moon being so bright as well as being so close, almost as if he could reach out and touch it. Harry stuck his head out of the window. He heard the symphonic noises of the streets of New York. The harmonies of the police sirens. The whispers of the thousand of cars. The altos of the screaming bums. It was all too perfect. Harry closed his eyes in order to appreciate this experience even more, but as Harry closed his eyes he felt a drop of water sprinkle down onto his hair. He then felt another and another. Harry opened his eyes and saw that it was raining. Harry looked up at the heavens as he watched the liquid confetti drizzle down onto his face. A very profound thought occurred to Harry. At this moment thousand, or even millions of people were experience this same rain. This same water has been around for billions of years. He suddenly felt deep connection with everything in the world at any given time.
Harry suddenly felt inspired to paint something. He rushed over to his painting supplies, but then decided to take one more hit before he painted what he felt would be his master piece. Harry went over to the tank filled with toads and picked up the fattest one. He then proceeded to once again tickle the chin of the toad until the venom came out. Once it did he licked it the toad with his now dry tongue. His endorphins went wild. The heat was becoming more intense now so Harry took off his worn out jeans, and was now only wearing his underwear and his blue socks.
He scampered over to his art sanctuary. In front of Harry there were three aisles holding three blank canvases. He snatched his painting pallet and began stroking the gooey paint with the palm of his right hand. He stared at his multicolored hand. It began to sparkle like a disco ball. Then his hand started to project a colorful light. The highly saturated colors were extraordinary. His glowing hand felt a pleasurable warmth and it made him feel very sensual almost even an erotic sensation. He then decided to smear the magical paint all over his body. This paint was acting as an aphrodisiac, it made him feel quite salacious. However this incredible feeling was not exactly sexually driven. It was more of a spiritual out of body experience. Harry collapsed to the floor and began making paint angles. He spread his long arms and leg back and forth like a little kid playing in the snow. Harry began to howl with laughter because he was overwhelmed with a wave of joy.
He closed his eyes momentarily, as he basked in the magical paint. Seconds later the insides of Harry eyes turned bright red. Harry opened his eyes, but was blinded by the golden light that shined directly into the iris of Harry’s eyes. It took him a millisecond to refocus his eyes, but then he saw the golden ray of light. The light had some type of force or energy that Harry could feel in the core of his body. He realized that golden light’s source was coming from the middle canvas. Harry began drifting over towards it and the closer he got the stronger the force got. The force made him feel powerful, but at the same time he felt sort of vulnerable, because it seemed to be controlling his body. Without remembering how he got there Harry was standing two feet away from the golden light. He could not move he was completely powerless to the force of the golden light. Then the right canvas began to illuminate the same golden light onto his chest as did the left canvas. The triangle of lights all pointed to Harry’s chest. An intense pressure was felt in Harry’s chest. It went on for what seem like a life time and then without any warning the bright golden lights dimmed down until they were completely gone. A single tear ran down Harry’s red and blue face.
He looked down at his chest, it seem to be fine. He then collapsed his right fist and pressed it up against his chest. However something strange happened. He looked at the canvas and there was an outline of a lumpy circle. Harry looked perplexed. He then touched his chest again, but this time with just his thumb. As he did this an outline of the shape of his thumb began to be magically draw itself onto the canvas. He then proceeded to make a design. He was fascinating by this unusual phenomenon. Then all of a sudden the intense pressure came back to his chest. He looked down and then saw the same marks that had been drawn on the canvas forming on his chest however it was not paint it was blood. The pain was unbearable. Harry tried to move around in reaction to the pain, but all he could do was squirm because apparently his feet were stuck to the ground. Finally the design was finished and it was a happy face. Harry found this design to be sort of ironic because right now he was feeling anything but happy. However, just when Harry thought it was over the pain came back. He noticed that the blood was now launching out of his chest and onto the canvas. It was filling in the outline with a bloody happy face. The happy face began to drip from the eyes as if it were crying. It was then that Harry felt a searing pain in his eyes. He started to cry, but as he began to wipe the tear away he slowly realized that he was crying blood. The salt burned his eyes which caused more blood tears to run down his face.
Harry was known for being squeamish. All of this blood was making him quite nauseous. His stomach swelled up which was then followed by a parade of pain. Harry first instinct was to nestle his stomach, but then decided he was not going touch any other part of his body. The pain escalated and he knew that it was inevitable. He was going to barf whether he liked it or not, and right on cue a tremendous amount of vomit expelled out of Harry’s mouth. Unfortunately the vomit was projectile. He sprayed most of it onto the canvas with the smiley face on it. His throat burned, and horrible taste lingered in his mouth. However it did not taste like vomit, but it did taste familiar. It was then that Harry noticed that the painting was covered in a red liquid. At first he was confused and then he realized he was tasting blood, which must meant that he had thrown up blood. He felt dizzy and disoriented. The room was spinning. Harry began circling around the room in order to try and catch his balance. He began knocking things over including the tank that was filled with toads. The glass from the tank shattered. Harry then accidentally stepped on one of the shards of glass. He cradled his bloody foot with both of his hands, but by doing this Harry lost his balanced and plummeted to the painted floor.
Harry was left there lying on his back as the blood from the canvas dripped onto his forehead. His mind began to drift away. Just before he faded into unconsciousness he saw something very bizarre. A band of toads romping around in the paint, and one of them was covered in just pink paint and it hopped over to Harry. It landed directly on Harry’s chin. Just before he slipped into unconscious he looked at that pink toad straight in the eye and it looked back at him with empathizing eyes.
The pink toad then croaked “What’s the matter Harry?”
“Oh nothing just having a bad day.” Replied Harry.
“Oh okay, well feel better Harry.” Said the pink toad.
“Thanks I will. I think I’m going to close my eyes for a little while now.”
“Okay I will try and keep it down.”