Chapter 8 Indy
Indy
My body is still trying to catch up with the scrambling thoughts bouncing around inside my head. It feels like I just ran a marathon and had a god-tier orgasm right after.
I feel like I’m on fire, my skin is warm, and there’s a constant tingling running through my veins, almost like I stuck my finger in a wall socket.
Goodbye for now, my little raver. I’ll see you again soon.
A sudden voice in my head leaves me questioning my sanity.
What in the actual fuck was that?
Spinning around, my eyes search around me, hoping for some sort of answer from the person who was just fingers deep in me. But, they’re gone. Like a ghost from my imagination.
I know I’m high as balls right now, but they’re real. I fucking know they are.
Then I see it, the beak of their mask glinting in the flashing lights, their dark hood enveloping their figure. It’s them.
I move quickly, pushing through the crowd like a mad woman on a mission. And fuck me, I am. I want to find out who that was, what that fucking drink was they gave me, and how the fuck I heard them in my brain a few seconds ago.
Pulse pounding and heart racing, I follow the shadow of them until I reach the outskirts of the crowd. Losing My Mind by ATLiens bleeds through the air around me, and fuck, I really feel like I am losing it.
My palms are sweating, my eyes darting around frantically until I catch a glimpse of them ducking behind some vendors.
Ha! Gotcha!
I speed walk over to where I last saw them, trying to look as little-crazy as possible. I know I’m doing a shit job at it. Luckily for me, everyone kind of looks a little fucked up under the flashing lights, covered in layers of dirt and sweat and more than likely tripping balls.
You’re getting hotter.
The voice in my head tells me, their voice low and commanding.
What’s this? Some fucked up game of hotter, colder? Fuck. I always sucked at this. I keep searching for what feels like hours. The voice in my head never stops…
Hotter…
I walk left.
Colder…
I turn right.
Warmer…
I move to the other stage.
So cold, you're almost freezing, little raver.
It’s a constant loop in my head that doesn’t mesh well with the drugs and alcohol I have rushing through my body.
My head is pounding.
I’m dehydrated.
I’ve barely even danced.
What a fucking waste.
I decide to cut my losses and head back to my campground for the night, not caring about the nagging that’s going on in my brain.
Where are you going, little raver?
I wasn’t done playing our game.
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” I screech, slapping my palms against my head like it will somehow stop the verbal assault.
I make it back to my tent as soon as physically possible, trying to make sense of what just happened. Fairy lights shine around me, wrapping around different campsites. Colors seem to bleed, melting away into the ground. Everything looks soft and comfortable, safe even.
The voice tapers off slowly, becoming quieter with each step I take, until there’s nothing left but silence. Thank the Gods.
I change into a big comfy sweatshirt that has Bass Babe written on it in big pink letters, and an extra-large pair of sweatpants that I have to roll at the waist to keep them on my hips. I slide a pair of fluffy pink Crocs on and take a seat under my canopy.
My neighbors haven’t come back to their site yet, which isn’t unusual. There are so many after parties, get-togethers, and surprise sets around here that they’re most likely still out raging the night away.
My head is completely silent now, and it, for once, has never felt better. I can hear the distant thumps of bass from across the street. It’s calming, like thunder rolling in the sky before a storm.
I breathe in deeply, accepting the chaos that happened. A random person in a plague doctor outfit bent me over the rail and finger fucked me until I was seeing stars. The night could’ve gone much worse if I’m being honest.
I grab my cigarette box filled with joints and place one between my lips. Flicking my lighter, I inhale deeply, my lungs filling with that sticky-sweet smoke.
But that voice… My mind unintentionally drifts back to that mask. How the eyes seemed so hollow, but they made me feel so fucking full.
Letting out a breath, I try my best to ignore my racing mind, focusing on the smoke floating around in the chilly air.
Once I’m finished, I dip into my tent, closing the zipper tightly behind me, as if it would even do anything. I check my air mattress and fill it up before placing my vapes on the portable charger I brought.
I plop down on the mattress, and it feels like I’m floating on a cloud, the reminiscence of the drugs still buzzing through my body. Like when you go to bed drunk, but without the spinning.
Before long, sleep starts to take over. My eyes get heavier as I curl deeper into my fluffy blanket. Drifting away until the constant sounds of music lull me into my dreams.
I hear the voice again. Soft and fluttering, like butterfly wings.
Sweet dreams, little raver. We will meet again tomorrow.
I pass out, sleep caressing my body like a warm hug.