That Time I Was Drugged With a Horse Tranquilizer

Finals are over. Thank God. That was my last exam before graduation. And I nailed it! I release a big sigh of relief. My brain is fried! I’ve been overwhelmed with stress and anxiety, but I did it. I finally finished my bachelor's! It’s definitely time for a much needed break and celebration.

Unfortunately, I don't have any friends on campus. My roommate moved out halfway through the first semester and no one else replaced her. I’ve been living alone for six months. Most of the time, I love having the place all to myself. I can do anything I want at any time of the day. My apartment is my safe haven away from the chaos and noise of society.

The rest of the time, I hate it, like now. The silence can be deafening after a challenging and hectic day. The absence refuses to allow me to vent my frustrations or zeal about the day’s events. I don't want to be at home alone. I yearn to go out and have some fun! I’m going to celebrate the end of this long, arduous journey, alone or not.

It was a gorgeous day outside. The wind whipped my hair into my face. I found a hair clip in my Kill la Kill messenger bag, pulled my hair up, and fastened it into a bun. The sun was resting on the roofs of the student housing complex. Perfect weather for my jean shorts and Harley Quinn tank top. A great day to enjoy myself.

I took a minute to decide where to go. Hmm, there's that taco place on the corner… But their food tastes like paper. There's also that bar across the street. Hmm… A hole in the wall pub usually means it isn’t crowded.

I look at my watch. Sweet! It's happy hour. I’ve never gotten the chance to go to happy hour. I know their tequila sunrises are expensive… and it doesn’t help that I have a high alcohol tolerance. Buy one, get one would be awesome. As I cross the campus, I see students darting down sidewalks and running over the grass to make it to their last tests. Good luck guys.

I pass the taco place and cross the street to the bar. I swing open the dark wooden door and light from the outside pours into the dimly lit room. I glance around letting my eyes adjust. Wow! I didn't know it was this dark inside during the day too. The bell above the door rings again as the heavy door closes behind me. As expected, there are only three or four older gentlemen sitting at the scattered shabby tables.

The waitress walks out of the backroom and up to the bar. Her stick straight, blonde hair falls right above her breasts accentuating them. With the tight, green t-shirt she’s wearing, they look to be at least a G cup. “What can I get you?” She gives me a half smile.

I pull myself up onto the barstool, placing my messenger bag on the one next to me. “I want two tequila sunrises for happy hour.” I smile brightly.

“Happy Hour drinks only include beer on tap,” she recites, almost like a robot. My smile drops. Beer does nothing for me and usually tastes shitty. Still, I’m already sitting here and want something to drink.

“What kinds do you have?” Maybe there was a good one?

“Budweiser, Bud Light, Miller Light, Natural light, Busch, Busch Light, Blue Moon, Corona, or Guinness,” the waitress rattles off, again in a monotone voice.

“Guinness,” I immediately blurted out. It is the only one I can stand the taste of. Their Happy Hour really sucks. The girl pulls out two giant mugs and fills them to the brim. As she plops them in front of me, she says, “$3.00”

I blink. These huge mugs are only $3.00?! Okay, for that amount of beer, it was a pretty good deal. I still doubted it would do much of anything other than mildly relax my stiff back. Sitting in those desks for 3 hours straight killed me! I hand the waitress the bills, and she lazily puts them in the cash register before walking off into the back. She obviously doesn't like this job.

My mind drifts as I think about visiting my best friend, Jessie, in Michigan. She had decided to get her Master’s degree at a college up there. I always had fun when we were together. I wish she could be here now. I quickly drink half of the beer without noticing. I turn to put my wallet back in my bag when I see the jukebox. I've never actually played a jukebox! I shake out some change, pick up my mug and saunter over with excitement.

What song do I pick? I didn't really know many of these. “Crazy” by Patsy Cline? That sounds familiar. I kind of feel a little bit crazy being here since I’ve never drunk alone in a bar before. I laugh at myself as the quarter clinks in the slot and I press the button. I stand there waiting and continue drinking.

“Crazy... Crazy for feeling... so lonely.” My heart lurches. “Crazy for feeling... so blue.”

Melancholy rushes over me. I turn my back to everyone as I feel tears welling up. What is this? I came to celebrate. Why am I suddenly so sad? I decided to let the music flow through me. I stand there and begin swaying with the slow tune. Any emotions that come up, I let go of with a heavy breath. After a few deep breaths, I feel much better. I empty my mug and head back to the bar.

I hoist myself up onto the barstool and seize the next beer. Still swaying to the music, I close my eyes. My body is relaxing. I finish a good fourth of the large mug by the time the song ends. My body, mind, and soul resonate with peace. That was fast! I grin and open my eyes.

Instinctively, I clutch the bar rail for support. My vision is swirling. I freeze. The neon beer signs on the walls are moving. I slowly turn my head towards the windows. The chairs and tables sitting under it are twisting and flowing like water. What's going on? I know I was swaying. But this has never happened!

“Are you feeling okay?” I hear a male voice say behind me. I whipped my head around, which was probably not the best idea. A man sitting at the nearest table spoke again, “Are you alright? You don't look so good.” His face is too blurry for me to make out any features. Alarm bells ring in my head and my gut tightens.

How does he know I'm dizzy?! I haven't moved anything but my head. Plus I haven't even gotten halfway through the second mug. Why would he think something's wrong?!

“No, that's okay. I'm alright,” I say calmly, pretending I’m fine. I casually take another drink. I sit there looking at my drink hoping my vision will clear. Nothing. I close my eyes to stop the growing nausea.

“Are you sure you're okay?” The faceless voice says. “I can help walk you to your car.” Suddenly everything goes red and I see warning signs pulsing in my vision. A sinking feeling churns in my gut. I look at my drink and realize I left it at the bar when going to the jukebox. Damn it! The number one rule of drinking anywhere is never leave your drink unattended. He drugged me! I've got to get out of here. I have to get home! I push my drink away from me and try to steady my nerves.

I throw my messenger bag over my shoulder, slowly lowering myself off the stool, and bracing myself for the walk I need to make. “I'm good. Thanks for the offer,” I reply quickly to the now melting figure at the table. Using all the focus and willpower I can muster, I head directly to the door, as fast as possible.

“Are you sure you don't need some help?” I hear the distorted voice yell as I rush out into the growing twilight. Gotta get home. Gotta get home. Gotta get home. I repeat it over and over and over in my mind. My place is about 100 yards away. It's a straight line from here to there. I can do it.

Determined to make it there no matter what, I take a deep breath. As I stagger, the brisk wind seems to be the only thing holding me up. The sensation of it blowing directly into my face was all that was keeping me conscious. I look both ways at the crosswalk. No movement, which meant no cars. I awkwardly jog across the street.

Ignore the swirling. Stay focused. Just walk. Staring at the ground, watching my feet move as if I’m trudging through a mudpit on MXC, I repeat: Gotta get home. Gotta get home. Gotta get home. I’m now pushing myself up the slanted incline of the taco place’s parking lot. I know this isn’t an obstacle course, but it definitely feels like it! The wind blasts me with the horrid smell of the unnaturally bland food. I gag as my stomach churns and twists with nausea. Ignore the nausea. Just keep walking.

I reach the open hall and catch myself on the brick wall. Carefully, I look behind me. No one’s there. He hadn’t followed me. I felt relieved, but I still needed to get home. I held the wall with my right hand. The rough brick surface scraped my skin just enough to let me know I was still moving. I couldn’t tell how far away from the door I was. Thank God I have a first floor apartment!

I struggle to get my left hand into my messenger bag to find my keys. I dig around and fumble to get them out of my bag before I reach the door. I won’t stop to look through my bag. I don’t have enough time to stop. Keep going! You can make it!! Just get inside!!!

I yank my keys free just steps away from my apartment… but I can't tell which key is which! Whatever! I take my best guess and shove the key in. It unlocks. I burst through the door, spin to slam it shut, and quickly lock the deadbolt. I lean against the cool surface trying to catch my breath and steady myself. The nausea finally catches up to me. I drop my bag and keys on the floor as my guts propel me toward the bathroom. Even though I couldn’t feel my legs anymore, I sprinted.

When my knees hit the floor, everything immediately evacuates into the bowl. I heave until the only thing left is bile. I have no energy. I can barely move my arms. My head is still swimming. Without a thought, I gently lay down on the cold tile floor and pass out.

When I come to, I can hardly open my eyes. Why is the light so bright?! I turn my head away from the light and let them adjust. The first thing I recognize is the toilet. Why is there a toilet here? I am bewildered. I try to remember why I am in the bathroom. I don’t know. My heart begins racing and my head is throbbing.

Wait. This is my bathroom, right?! With a quick check, I can see the Death Note bath towel hanging on the shower bar. Definitely my place. Okay, I'm safe. I start to calm down. I lay there trying to get my thoughts together. Now what happened?

A bullet of pain shoots through my skull. It’s like someone’s using my head as a drum in their rock band… “Oh, God!” I scream hoarsely …and I just hit the cymbal. I groan and grit my teeth trying to breathe through the pain. Tears stream down my face. I don't move… because I can’t move?! Wait! What is happening to me?!

I attempt to lift my hand to my face. It twitches and goes still. I strain to move my leg. Dead weight. I can still feel the cold tile floor under me though; my legs stuck against the smooth surface. What the hell? My body has senses but refuses to move?! I finally piece it together. I’m paralyzed! A picture of the dark bar flashes through my mind. That's right! Some guy drugged me. What do I do now?

If I had a roommate, they would find me and call 911. Just my luck. I’m completely helpless. Nothing can be done until this wears off. All I can do is breathe. The excruciating pain beating against my brain was too much to handle. I think I’ll take a nap.

When the majority of the pain subsided, I woke up trembling. I tested my arms. They still felt heavy, but they moved. I slowly push myself up and shake as my palm slides across the white tile. I reach for the sink to pull myself up. My arm makes it halfway before falling into my lap. All I wanted to do was go back to sleep. I needed to get to bed.

I start massaging my legs and arms the best I can. They’re waking up! I reach up to the sink again and grip the edge. My lethargic legs wobble under me as I pull myself up. I see my face in the large mirror. Other than messy hair and sleepy eyes, I look… normal. I open the medicine cabinet checking if I have any pain killers. The Excedrin migraine pill bottle is on the lowest shelf. I accidentally knock it into the sink. The sound pierces my eardrums. I scream. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. I quickly pocket the bottle before slowly heading to my room.

As I turn the light out in the bathroom, I notice it’s black outside. How long have I been out? What time is it? I gently lean against the doorframe and painfully lift my left arm. The neon lights read 4 o’clock. I stare at the watch. 4 o'clock?! But I was at the bar at 5:30 p.m.

I look out my bedroom window again. Only the campus’s sidewalk lamp showed through. That means I passed out for about 10 hours! A shiver ran down my spine. All the things that could have been done to me while I was passed out… Where would I be if driven 10 hours away?

If I hadn’t made it home in time, I would have been kidnapped! I shuddered at the reality of what just happened. I’ve heard recently many college girls have mysteriously disappeared and still haven’t been found. Would I have ended up like that?!

I can't completely fathom what type of situation I may have been trapped in. I would have most likely been thrown into a sex trafficking ring. Either that or be violated and murdered by the kidnapper. The fact that the drug he used only knocked me out and paralyzed me, while leaving my other senses intact, means it was perfect for torture. I hugged myself in shock. The phantom hadn’t seemed like a serial killer… but many mask it well. I try to remember any details about him and come up blank.

A lightning bolt strikes my temple and I groan in agony. No need to worry about what-ifs now. I am safe. I just need to get in bed. My thoughts trail off. I robotically hobble to my nightstand. I pull the bottle of pills from my pocket and fumble getting the lid open. My fingers still don’t want to move so my dexterity is extremely limited. After finally getting some pills out, I sit the medicine bottle on the nightstand and grab for my water bottle. Trying to carefully lift this small amount of weight, I bump the Kleenex box and philosophy textbook onto the wooden floor.

Ignoring them completely, I pop two migraine pills. When I swallow the water, I realize how dry my mouth is. Using both hands, I greedily chug every drop. I know this will help flush the toxins out of my system and keep me hydrated. As I crawl into bed and under the covers, I feel a sense of solace and gratitude. I will be alright. Thank god. I’m okay. I shut my eyes wishing the drumming migraine will subside and pass out again.

I will be posting this story on RoyalRoad.com