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Alice In The Dope Show
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TITLE (EDIT)
Alice In The Dope Show
DESCRIPTION
A warped comment on the drug scene
[1,434 words]
TITLE KEYWORD
Literary Fiction
AUTHOR
David Wightman
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A couple of short stories from my book which is entitled 'Ergot Ego - a collection of oddities'.
[June 2014]
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
[email protected]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (1)
Infinity (Short Stories) Two students create their very own drug that only works in one building. [3,150 words] [Science Fiction]
Alice In The Dope Show
David Wightman

     Alice totally lost it one day.
     Before then she had been the prettiest child. People would always comment on how beautiful she was.
     She was thirteen when she lost her looks.
     She woke up one day to find her face covered in acne. Her hair was greasy and she could do nothing with it. She was getting fat.
     ‘It’s just your hormones playing up,’ her mum reassured her. ‘You’ll be right soon.’
     But Alice didn’t believe her.
     Alice couldn’t stand to be seen by anyone. She wouldn’t go to school. She wouldn’t let her friends come to visit. She wouldn’t leave her room.
     She stayed there for three months.
     Her mother wouldn’t stop pestering her. She would try to motivate her to get up and dress. To eat. To bathe. To talk. To stop crying. To become her pretty little girl again.
     She ran away on her fourteenth birthday. She wanted to live in the forest where only the animals would ever see her face. She wanted to be alone forever.
     Whilst she was in the forest she chased a white rabbit down a hole and had a crazy adventure.
     After her adventure she returned home.
     She told her mum all about her trip to the forest. She told fantastic stories of talking creatures and of magic mushrooms that changed your size.
     Her mum believed none of it.
     ‘You need help my dear. I’m going to phone the doctor.’
     ‘I’m not crazy.,’ replied Alice. ‘But do as you must.’
     Alice told the doctor the same stories. She soon found herself in the local psychiatric hospital.
     At first she continued to tell the same stories and refused to take her medication. But then she learnt that she would get out much quicker if she admitted she was mad and took her pills.
     She went home two months later with a months supply of tranquillisers.
     For the first month Alice was out of hospital Alice’s mum was happy. Alice returned to school. Her friends started coming to the house again. She had stopped obsessing about her appearance.
     Then her tranquillisers ran out.
     They went to the doctor to get more. Even Alice admitted they were helping.
     At first he was willing to give them to her. She took them for over a year and during that time Alice and her mum were both very happy
     Until one day the doctor suddenly cut off her supply. He said she was too young to rely on pills. Her problems were all part of growing up. She would be right soon.
     Things did not get better.
     Alice looked in the mirror one day. She did not see her usual reflection. She saw none of the good and all of the bad.
     She screamed and she screamed.
     Her mother swore that there was nothing wrong with her, that she was beautiful.
     Alice did not believe her.
     She decided to go back to the forest where she met a friendly snake lying in the grass, a long roll-up cigarette between his fangs.
     ‘What’s the matter young girl?’ he asked.
     ‘I’m depressed,’ said Alice.
     ‘Why is a pretty thing like you depressed?’
     ‘I’m not pretty. I’m a freak. Everyone laughs at me. Everyone criticises me.’
     ‘I’m sure they don’t. How long have you felt like that?’
     ‘It seems like all my life. I was alright when I was on tablets. But the doctor won’t give them to me anymore. What am I going to do?’
     ‘You don’t need doctors to make you feel better. I can give you a tranquilliser. But mine is herbal. Much better than what the doctor prescribes.’
     He passed her his roll-up.
     ‘I don’t smoke,’ said Alice.
     ‘It’s not a normal cigarette,’ he laughed. ‘It’ll make you feel better. Go on. Have a toke, find some hope.’
     Alice dragged on the reefer.
     She coughed.
     ‘I can’t smoke anymore,’ she said.
     ‘Yes you can,’ hissed the snake. ‘Smoke the whole joint, find out the point.’
     Alice smoked the spliff.
     She was no longer coughing, she was laughing.
     ‘Now follow me,’ said the snake.
     He led her to a lake.
     ‘Look in there and tell me what you see.’
     ‘I see me,’ she said.
     ‘And do you frighten yourself anymore?’
     ‘No. I’m actually quite pretty.’
     ‘Yes,’ said the snake. ‘Now go home and remember that.’
     Alice went home to her mother.
     She still had days when she thought the world was against her. On these days she would go and visit the snake and smoke a pipe with him..
     ‘Hashish pacifies your soul,’ he explained. ‘But don’t abuse it or you’ll lose it.’
     For awhile Alice was happy.
     But then one day she realised there was something missing from her life.
     ‘What’s the matter?’ asked the snake.
     ‘All the time I was on tranquillisers, and now the dope, my brain has slowed down. I no longer have the ability to communicate with people. I am so far behind in conversations that by the time I’ve thought up a response the subject’s changed. What can I do?’
     ‘Follow me,’ said the snake.
     He led her to a river.
     On the river there was a beaver building a dam.
     ‘Hello,’ said the beaver. ‘What can I do for you?’
     The snake explained Alice’s problem to him.
     He scratched his chin.
     ‘What you need is some speed. Some of that and then you’ll chat.’
     He produced a wrap from his pocket.
     ‘Go on. Snort a few lines and rhyme those rhymes.’
     She tried it.
     The beaver had many friends. Every weekend Alice would go and visit them and take some speed. They would talk for hours about anything and everything. Alice felt like she belonged. She felt loved.
     But all highs have their lows.
     During the week she would be moody and depressed . She would go nowhere unless she was on speed. She started to look pale and twisted. She started to look like her worst nightmare.
     She returned to the hospital.
     The thing that makes mental institutions worse than prison is the boredom. Something about the place and the medication they feed you makes you feel constantly restless.
     Alice decided to seek help from the spider that lived in her room.
     ‘I’m so bored. I need excitement. My mind is numb. I need some inspiration for my mind. What can I do?’
     ‘I can help you,’ said the spider. ‘What you need is LSD. Take a trip, don’t bite your lip. A sting from me and inspired you’ll be.’
     She tried it.
     Alice decided to look in the mirror. She picked up her looking glass and, as if by magic, went through it.
     She had all kinds of adventures. But this time she kept them to herself.
     Quite soon after that she was released from the hospital.
     She tried hard to adjust to normal life. But everything was pointless and inane since her experience with acid. She asked her cat for advice.
     ‘I need excitement. I crave fun. I need to be aroused. What can I do?’
     ‘What do you say to MDMA. Pop a pill, you need the thrill.’
     Alice tried it.
     She spent the night hopping from one club to another. She made more friends in one night than she’d ever had in her life. She had found a world in which she belonged.
     Soon she was taking Ecstasy every weekend. Sometimes two, sometimes three times a week. She would double; treble drop. She was the life of any party. She was in with the A crowd. She was special.
     But soon her magic pills stopped working. She no longer felt like dancing. She began to get bored and irritated when she was in a club.
     Eventually she lost the ability to enjoy life.
     She went to see her old friend the snake again.
     ‘I have drained all my seretonin. I can no longer find pleasure. Nothing stimulates me. I’d be better off dead. I wish I was dead.’
     ‘There’s something better than death,’ said the snake. ‘Take this smack and there will be nothing for your life to lack. You’ll be numb like Tweedle Dum. Stick a needle in your arm, it’ll do you no harm.’
     She tried it.
     Very soon she realised she’d found a purpose in her life. She had a routine. Her day consisted of finding the money to buy smack, finding someone who had smack, persuading said person to sell smack, getting home safely with the smack, preparing the smack, injecting the smack, living the smack.
      One day Alice took too much and the curtains closed on The Dope Show.

      
      
      

 

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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2011 David Wightman
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
June 2014
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
995
 

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