Panacea

Running head first through the pounding rain was never any fun she observed. The last thing Elly wanted to be doing on a Saturday night of course was to be tearing away down some street she didn't know running away from party, let alone Wendall Ruskin's party. 1

Though she hadn't really wanted to go in the first place - that second sense of intuition attempting to warn her somehow - and she had accepted merely due to the fact that it was Wendall's party. Of course, her friend's wouldn't have given her the option, whether or not she had decided to in fact pay attention to that voice in her head. A voice which, under the current circumstances, she had to admit to her self; seemed to be correct more than she'd like it to be.2

So here she was ducking into alleyways, dodging through secluded mall lots, and trying desperately to find some landmark that was familiar. Anything to let her know where she was. Nothing had caught her eye in the last five minutes, and she was beginning to doubt anything would soon.3

The party had seemed friendly enough, due to the obscenely high amount of 'higher ups' invited, and the fact that she was going with friends. Sure a mansion on large property at the other edge of the city seemed a little far for her tastes, but with the ride she thought she was getting it was no problem.4

Her friends! What had become of them? Jenny, Megan, Crystal, and Jay, all still back there and all still enjoying themselves. Why had she chosen then to leave? Why so abruptly and without any notice to anyone other than the surprised doorman, who wasn't used to seeing teenage girls tearing out of the house, down the long drive way, and climbing the fence to leave.5

Of course she couldn't stay, no one would have, if they knew what she knew. If only they'd seen what she'd seen, they'd all understand. Why did Jenny have to have talked to that cute little Junior right when Elly had decided to go downstairs? Was she still chatting to him, nonchalantly playing coy as her friend ran for her life?6

The text messages were piling up, and her phone was vibrating so much, as if someone was constantly calling. She was afraid it was him, what if he had got her number? No one would have thought anything of it other than mentally congratulating her on whatever unseen trait that Wendall Ruskin had seen in Elly Berthald that demanded such importance.7

Still she pulled out the phone, merely to check the time. Ignoring the 17 messages that had gone unanswered, the voicemail and assuredly scandalous picture messages designed to entice her back from whatever supposed room of the house she was hiding in. Hiding, the nerve, to say she was an introvert was one thing, but accusing her of such social ineptitude that she would go cowering off to hide from the masses was just absurd. 8

Though they were not wrong, in assuming she hadn't liked it. Heavens no, that was one house she hoped never to set foot in again. What social masks the party goers could wear in that place, she mused, were nothing to the one that their host had on. Wendall, who seemed the poster-child for straight A strait edges, had he actually been the latter.9

No it seemed Wendall in fact had been a large player in the recent events at Middleburry High, if not taking the star role. Something of a local legend had been started over some sort of new drug, a new kind of fix, and everyone wanted in on it. The panacea, as it was called, was some heavy stuff. Not being into much substance abuse, Elly could only go off of the numerous descriptions floating around, but being the resident psychology nerd, knew enough that this was something pretty well made.10

In order to alter someone's brain chemistry enough to make specific hallucinations seem real, some fairly selective chemicals had to be used. Basic hallucinogens were one thing, but to selectively relive a specific memory and involve other people seemed more like science fiction than possibility.11

For one thing, the actions of others had to be congruent otherwise the hallucination would fail, but apparently this drug had some sense of distortional overlap, for groups had all had separate trips, but no one had lost each other. 12

As stunned as she was that Wendall had played a part in this, of course it had to be him. The least suspecting always ended up guilty, thats why they succeeded. 13

Shaking her head in disgust, Elly ran on into the wet night.