ʟɪʟʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴀʟʟᴇʏ ! ʇɹɐǝɥ ɹǝɥ uᴉ lᴉʌǝp | GEORGE HARRISON

14| roxie in wonderland

the psychedelics affected george harrison almost immediately. "what's up, roxie!" he shouted, staring at pattie.

she and roxie laughed. "i'm pattie," she laughed, not feeling much yet. she was surprised that george was feeling it already. usually, it took twenty minutes or so. he was already under the influence of enough alcohol, anyway.

roxie felt the same as pattie. the only other time she'd taken acid was with the beatles, but when she did, terrible things occurred; stepping in glass, freaking out over a balloon... oh, and kissing george. she wondered if george even remembered that. she sure did.

"feeling anything?" george plopped down between roxie and pattie, facing roxie.

she grinned, hoping to have a good trip. "not yet," she replied, wishing she'd brought different clothes to change into. and she didn't want to ask pattie, that'd feel like she was invading their privacy. asking george would just be weird. but that dress was awful! it was sticky from some wine george spilt on her on accident, and it reeked of weed. she contemplated asking pattie for a change of clothes, but what if she said no?

"roxie, can i get you anything?" almost as if on cue, pattie spoke to roxie, kindly offering anything. okay, probably not anything, but roxie took this as her chance to not come off as needy.

"maybe a change of clothes? this dress is stained with wine," laughing, roxie tried being lighthearted.

pattie got up quickly and ran off to some hallway after a short, "okay!" and moments later, also dressed in something casual yet comfortable, she brought back a blue tee shirt with a rolling stones logo on it and a pair of black trousers that had the same material as sweatpants. "is this okay?"

"oh, yeah, it's great!" roxie got up, looking for the bathroom. "where's your restroom?"

"down the hall. it's the last door on the left." pattie sat back down next to george while he mumbled something incoherent. "don't mind korky!"

"who?"

"the cat," as pattie said this, a fluffy little white cat came scurrying out from behind a door, running past roxie and up to pattie. "george's had him since the year we met," she said with a smile, petting the little thing.

roxie aww'ed, closing the door to the bathroom. as she hurriedly changed into her tee-shirt and trousers, she wondered when the psychedelics would start working. she placed her stained dress on the floor, not sure of what to do with it.

looking at herself in the mirror, she was surprised to see her hair was still curled. usually, the curls fell right out. maybe it was because she was so cold. her makeup was quite a bit smudged, so while cleaning up her appearance, she decided to just wash it all off.

as she dried her hands on the hand-towel beside the sink,  she really questioned when the drugs would kick in. she was hoping to register out that night. she didn't want to remember anything.

she looked over herself once more in the mirror, blinking a few times. out of the corner of her eye, she could see the stars in the window above the shower. but as soon as they were there, they disappeared. how odd, she thought.

roxie turned to open the door, but it was jammed. it wouldn't unlock no matter how many times she tried it. the door just wouldn't budge. she twisted and turned the doorknob over and over, but it stayed shut.

amazingly, the door began to shrink rapidly like alice in wonderland. it shrank down to where she could barely fit her hand through. even when it was tiny, she couldn't open it. she realized it was probably apart of the drugs, but she just wanted to leave the cramped bathroom.

after struggling with the minuscule door for five more minutes, she gave up, lying on her back and staring at the pale white ceiling, not having the effort to scream for george or pattie. they probably wouldn't hear her, anyways. they were just as high as she was. the ceiling danced above her head, morphing into all different shapes.

the cabinets next to her head opened and closed rapidly, and roxie swore she heard piano music.

beneath her, the floor seemed to be caving in on itself. it felt like she was laying on a giant water balloon.

she thought about what to do while waiting; i'll just close my eyes for a moment...

in her dream, roxie couldn't even begin to describe the horror she experienced. there were dead people. lots of them. skeletons. blood. death.

she dreamt that the boys had died, and she was at their funeral when a bunch of skeletons burst through, screaming wildly and unabashedly, a wave of them flowing in, reaching into the caskets to pick a strand of hair or a piece of clothing off the beatles.

when that wasn't enough, they began fighting over their dead bodies, picking off every piece of them until they were completely gone. blood and bones strewn about, roxie couldn't move a muscle. she had to watch the skeletons pick off the boys, one by one.

derek taylor and brian epstein were there. they tried to move roxie so she wouldn't be crushed, but they couldn't. she was glued to her seat in fear. they took off running, and as soon as the skeletons were finished with the beatles, they turned to roxie, slowly moving toward her.

that's where the dream ended. george clapped a few times, and she was awake.