This is part 2 of the story.
3. Do the exercises at the end. (The exercises are located on a separate page, after the final part of the story.)
The exercises practice: vocabulary, expressions, grammar, comprehension, and essay writing.
4. Check your answers.
Here is the video. You can watch it in your own language at The Foundation for a Drug-Free World.(Simply click the word "language" at the top right corner of that page.)
Help to educate others so they know the truth about drugs. Click here for drug education tools for teachers and educators.
"Okay, I'll try it," I say.
We each place a piece of paper on our tongues. I feel it dissolve and wait, but nothing happens.
"I don't think it's working," I say.
"Give it time," Max says.
And he's right. I wait and pretty soon it feels like I'm in a whole new universe. The trees bend like they're made out of rubber, their whole trunks swaying back and forth in the wind. A dark shade of purple darkens the sky, slowly spreading out from the clouds like ink dropped in water.
As the sky grows darker, I see things move in the shadows. Thousands of snakes and spiders suddenly pour out of them. They're coming for me. I look over at Max for help, but he's smiling happily. He looks as happy as a dead puppet, under the drug's control.
"I need to get out of here," I say and stand up, pulling him along behind me. If he says anything, I don't hear it. I lead him back to my apartment, trying to dodge the creatures following me. I lock the door behind me as we get inside.
"What's wrong?" Max asks. I look at him and his face looks like a mask. Like he's not really Max.
I try to explain what I saw, but my words all come out in a jumble.
I don't know how long we were in the park, but it takes several more hours of hiding in my apartment before the effects of the LSD start to fade. By the time it's completely over, it's well past midnight and my body aches like I've just been hit by a truck.
"I think I need to go to sleep," I tell him.
"I'm not really sure that's the best idea," he says. "You're not going to be able to fall asleep."
I don't listen to his warning. Instead, I just give him some blankets so he can sleep on the couch and then collapse into my bed. Max is right. I can't fall asleep. I can't stop thinking about the events of the day. How excited I was at the airport. How surprised I was by the LSD. How easy it was for him to get me to take it. I can't believe that I actually did LSD. I still like him a lot, but I don't know if I can actually date someone who does it. I feel depressed and tired, but I cannot sleep.
My alarm clock goes off, telling me to get ready for class. Max is awake when I walk into the living room.
"What's the plan for today?" he asks when he sees me.
"I have classes," I say. "And I have to go make up the time I missed at my internship yesterday." I was supposed to go after I picked up Max, but that didn't really work out.
"That sounds boring. Come on, let's do something fun."
"I can't miss more classes. I wasn't even planning on missing them yesterday."
Honestly, it does feel kind of nice that he wants to spend more time with me.
"Come on, Tara. I've been waiting so long to finally meet you. I want to actually spend time with you."
I can't resist him. "Fine," I say with a smile. "I guess I can just say I'm sick."
We spend the rest of the day walking around the city. We swap stories from our childhoods. He tells me about the time he tried to run away from home, but got caught because he asked him mom to pack him a lunch. I can't stop laughing. I tell him about the time my dad took me to feed the ducks and I fell into the pond. Neither of us brings up the LSD, and I like it better that way.
I take him to my favorite pizza place and order two slices with my favorite toppings: pepperoni and pineapple. Max tries to order plain cheese instead, insisting that pineapple doesn't belong on pizza, but I won't let him.
"You have to try it," I say, trying my best to look adorable. "You owe me."
"I guess I do," he sighs.
We take our slices and sit at one of the tables. Max rushes ahead of me so he can pull my chair out for me. It reminds me of how sweet and polite he was online. He takes a bite of his pizza, then sticks his tongue out.
"You don't like it?" I ask.
"It's just as gross as I thought it would be," he says as he picks the pineapple off.
"You're crazy," I tease.
"But I'm glad I tried it. Now I can definitely say I hate pineapple on pizza."
"And I can say I don't like LSD." I mean for it to sound like a joke, but we both know it isn't.
"You didn't like it?" He sounds hurt.
"No. Not at all. It was terrifying." I can't believe he didn't notice that.
He puts his hand on mine. "I'm so sorry. That's totally my fault. You just had a bad trip. You need to try it in a better setting. I promise it'll make you feel better."
I don't know if I really want to do it again, but I like the way it feels when he holds my hand. That really does make me feel less lonely.