She was still remembering when, before being a teenager, her parents grounded her for cooking psychoactive mushrooms at her kitchen. Oh gods, it was so funny, anyway, to observe her friends talking to a plant, or trying to walk with their hands. That was a good one. Later, she cares the memory of her first boyfriend poisoned by her dinner. She didn’t really love him, she just wanted to have her first sexual experiences with a nice-looking man. And they had them. Intellect was not required. And if it was there, definitely it was gone after her dinner. But she didn’t wanted to harm him. Really. It was just that she didn’t care.
After that incident, she was forced to be more careful, under the risk of being brainwashed and reprogrammed. She studied what she wanted, and she ended up getting a nice job at a factory as the second in command of the Chemistry division. That helped a lot. There was a good material at the discos and pubs of the Low Lands. In the last years, she systematically chose victims with her body type, carefully prepare a new mixture, and tried it with them. Always the half of the dosis she could think will send her there. Because she wanted to achieve something. She wanted to reach that place, described on the ancient texts, with the 7 doors, and the funny looking gods. The Bardo.
For some reason, that was her life goal. But for some reason, nobody else’s.When she first learned about the Bardo from her parents, when they were telling her traditional stories to sleep, she felt like she was there before. That is, before being born. Technically, it is possible that she was remembering her mother’s womb, but she knew that was not the case. Now she got from her provider this blue dream, with a promising catch phrase. It will drive you where no one has gone before. In theory, people reach the Bardo only if they don’t achieve their life goals, but in this case, reaching it was a goal itself. She wanted to reach it, of course, alive.
Little things were moving inside the vial. She had no mood tonight to go back to the Lab to check the components of it. That sucker at the disco, what did he said? That she was too old for him? Too old my ass!
So how to consume it? She had already quite some alcohol in blood, so maybe in a glass, mixed with her best whiskey. Yes. Slowly, she called a glass from the synthesizer, paying attention to the details. She wanted a cup like the ones used for Absinthe in the old days. She described the machine the engravings the cup should have, and when it was done, she looked satisfied to the result. A piece of art, definitely. Then she went for the whiskey, took her best bottle from the mirrored cupboard and had a look to her face when it closed. Yes, she was not anymore a teenager. But her skin was still shining in pale olive, without freckles, and her hair, cut quite short, was surrounding her otherwise perfect ears. Maybe it was her eyes. Yes, that was it. She was looking old in her eyes. She made a mental note on her cybersphere to go out with lenses next time.
Both liquids did not mix. The result was oddly satisfying to look at, almost hypnotizer. She had a sip. Not bad. A metallic taste was improving that whiskey. She also made a mental note about it, and gulp everything inside.