My brother's friend Russell was eyeing my bare stomach as I came in with a plate of cheese and crackers for him to snack on before we left. He did not even try to be discreet or smooth about it. I set the plate down and continued getting ready to go. We were going to Monster Massive. My brother could not go, as he had been naughty and had consequently gotten grounded by my parents, but his friend Russell offered to take me, as he had already planned on dropping by the house to take my brother. The plan was for me to meet up with my boyfriend Art, who was working the laser in the main room, and then of course, he would give me a lift home.

Russell had brought some mushrooms and we ate them as soon as got into the car. We stopped at In-N-Out Burger on the way to the party, because Rusty wanted some French Fries. He went inside and I waited in the car, as I was in no mood to be in a brightly lit fast food joint as the psilocybin began to take hold. Indeed it already was starting to take hold, and I watched in fascination as the bouganvilla we had parked in front of began to move and sway and then cascade like a green and heliotropic waterfall. Russell came back to the car and offered me some fries, very polite, and I shook my head and said, "These flowers look beautiful."

Russell smiled, but his smile looked predatory, and I didn't like it. I kept my bad thoughts to myself however, and continued to admire the flowers and mainly stayed silent and listened to the CD he had on, some dark jungle, and paid attention to the bright lights streaming by, and the trees reaching out on the side of the freeway.

We got to the venue and parked. Russell came and opened my door for me, which I also found very polite, but again felt predation underneath the gesture, but I thanked him anway to keep up social protocol. The mushrooms were working full force now, and I thought to myself, "Where's my ticket?" I felt in my pocket for it and was very happy to feel it's stiff paperiness. I had to check several more times before we got to the actual tickettaker, and then I decided I would just take it out and hold it in my hand so as to avoid repetitive checking and pocket-searching. I gave the girl my ticket when we got to the front, and Russell's eyes immediately began surveying the crowd, ferreting out the cute raver girlies, the blonde visor crew, admiring more bare stomachs, pert breasts, and shining dilated eyes.

He mumbled something to me, which I didn't understand, so I asked him to repeat it. "You have a boyfriend right?"

"Yes," I answered.

"Okay, well, go find him, I gotta go." And he poofed off in search of vagina.

The room I was in was the hardcore room, and it sounded like the DJ was spinning not just hardcore but terrorcore, very loud screaming and guitars over the blasting high-level beats, BPM was way up there. It was not so very pleasant to listen to. I remembered something another boyfriend had said to me once, how he had taken a bunch of DXM and went to a Slayer show. He had said this also had been a less than pleasant experience, as he had somehow gotten up to the front, and was being crushed against the barriers, unable to move or process anything. And he said that he kept wondering if they were filming a video at this concert, and he wondered if he was going to show up as some totally out-of-it dude for the whole world to see.

"And now every time I see a Slayer video," he said, "I always wonder if there's some poor bastard like me up there in front on too much DXM cursing his luck."

I began to wonder I was going to get out of this hardcore room. I walked the perimeter of the room and could see no exit. This was surely not the main room, and there were no lasers. It was very hot, no ventilation, no way out. Around me, people were in their Halloween costumes, bleeding in black and wielding scythes, axes, pitchforks. I suddenly began to get very scared. How could I ever find Art? It felt like I was in hell--boiling hot, horrifying screams all around me, bloody creatures and demons everywhere and no possibe way out. I couldn't think. I began to panic and then I was able to settle down from the panic and just began to cry. I curled up in the corner with my Kikweared knees drawn up to my face and wept like Alice in Wonderland when she is sure she will never find her way home.

"Are you okay?" a male voice asked.

I looked up, and standing over me was a man with long brown hair, parted down the middle and a beard. He was not bloody and not carrying a weapon. He was wearing a green shirt with a hemp necklace and brown courdoroy pants. His eyes looked kind and concerned. He looked like Jesus Christ and smelled heavily of marijuana.

"No,' I said. "I am scared and sad."

"Why?" he asked. "What happened?"

"The person I came here with left me and I have to find my boyfriend. He's in the main room with the lasers, but I can't figure out how to get out of here. It's scary here."

"Awww," the man said, kneeling down and patting my knee. "I can take you there."

He offered me his hand, and on his hand he wore two rings, one on his thumb and one on his ring finger. One was a pentagram, and one was a mushroom. I took his hand, and he puled me up, then put his arm around me and guided me into a corner of the room that I swear I had been to before. There was a swarm of people all waiting to get out of this very small doorway. We inched our way through the bottleneck and eventually broke out free into what looked like an empty, brightly lit mall.

"There," he said, "We made it out. But I can see how you would have gotten scared. That was really crowded, hard to push through."

I nodded in agreement.

We went up some escalators, and then we entered another room where the doors were much bigger and the flow of human traffic was basically unimpeded. The man found the laser apparatus and walked up to it, and sure enough, there was Art, concentrating and looking busy and happy.

"Does this belong to you?" the bearded man asked, and Art turned his attention toward me, tearstreaked in a blue wig.

"It does," he said, and smiled, stepping down off the machine. "Thank you. What happened?" he asked.

"I couldn't get out, and i got scared."

"Awww," said Art, making the same noise the man had made earlier. "Thank you for bringing her to me," he told the man. "What was your name?"

And then I really don't remember what the man said his name was, but he shook Art's hand, who also had a pentagram ring on it, and turned to walk away. I wiped at under my eyes, and took Art's hand.

I was so thankful to that man, whoever he was. I was reminded of that quote from somebody, I think it might have been Scarlett O'Hara but it might have been somebody else from Streetcar Named Desire, but anyway, it went

I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.

And that was the day that Jesus saved me from hell. =)