Skittle Story (M/ff)
Jennifer Jung was a 16 year old Torontonian high-school student with a bright future ahead of her. An identified-as-gifted, straight A student, Jennifer had dreams of studying biochemical engineering at the University of Toronto and becoming a science researcher after her graduation. Although she was still in grade eleven, Jennifer was already taking grade twelve calculus and planned to take two science credits in the summer, so she could use her final year to take first-year university courses instead. Schoolwork always came easily to her, especially if it was math or science later. She was also the head editor for her school newspaper and volunteered at a Children’s Hospital on the weekends. Jennifer’s busy schedule did not allow her a part-time job, but coming from an affluent family, she didn’t miss out. Jennifer did not have many friends; being a plain-looking (5’7’’, slightly overweight, with a flat, pimpled face, blue eyes, brown hair and thick glasses), proud bookworm had its price in the adolescent popularity ladder, but she was not troubled. Jennifer spent her leisure time, which she had little of, either with her boyfriend Samar or her best friend, Heather.
Heather Goring was 17 years old, older than Jennifer by merely a few months, and she attended the same high-school. Unlike Jennifer, Heather’s future success did not seem so certain. Heather was a C+ student, and although she had a solid B in art history, her chances of entering a good university were currently slim. Heather’s parents were divorced, and neither had much control over her actions. Heather was slightly better looking than Jennifer – about 5’5’’ with a hefty, muscular but well-proportioned figure; she had curly blonde hair, a pointy noise and big brown puppy eyes which many boys described as “kind”. Truly, Heather was not a bad girl, and she had a very respectable potential dating pool, but she was absolutely incapable of maintaining a relationship. Considering her lawless nature, that was not a surprise. Heather lived in a townhouse with her mother, who worked long-shifts as a hospital psychologist and her younger brother, Kevin. Heather, who has always felt overwhelmed by her mother’s expectations, began to distance herself from her parents following their divorce, as well as her academic responsibilities. Yet Heather and Jennifer were close friends who were always there to ease each other’s pain, whether by means of watching a movie together or sharing a doobie.
It was a lukewarm May afternoon, when Jennifer was sitting at the cafeteria, busying herself in academic thought, when Heather startled her.
“Hey bitch, you coming to The Pit with me?” (‘The Pit’ was a small ravine in the backwoods of the school property, which was largely unmonitored and became synonymous with drug activity since the 70’s.)
Jennifer sighed with frustration; “for real? Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“Anything is better than sitting in the caf by yourself, looking like a loser,” Heather berated her. “Now pack up your stuff and come.” Jennifer put her juice bottle back in her lunch bag, threw the leftovers of her lunch in the garbage, and put on her blue windbreaker jacket, which she hung over her chair.
The day was cool, extremely humid and gray, with perpetual drizzle, with a temperature hovering around 15 degrees Celsius. The Pit was disgustingly clammy, so luckily there was nobody else around when Heather and Jennifer got there.
“This grass is from Vancouver,” Heather said as she introduced a small, plain-looking joint from her handbag, “I paid twenty dollars for my stash.”
“Ok?” Jennifer was not a good judge of drug prices.
“That’s double what I would normally pay my dealer. I smoked some of it this morning, best high I’ve had since I was fourteen!” she exclaimed enthusiastically. She handed the joint to Jennifer and lighted it for her. “Try it!”
Reluctantly, Jennifer puffed. Her friend was right! Only a few puffs and she felt considerably more relaxed and lightheaded. It was as if suddenly she had no more cares other than her psychedelic pleasure. To hell with calculus! Who needs math when you got...drugs?

Heather handed Jennifer her ipod and shuffled through her “Dark Side of the Moon” album by Pink Floyd. They both sat there, listening to their music, until Jennifer’s cell phone alarm rang, cautioning her not to be late for her biology class.
“See you later, Junkie,” she waved goodbye to Heather, who remained sitting at The Pit. She will probably stay there until much later.
“You got it, Four Eyes.”
The next day, Heather showed up right after Jennifer’s English class ended and asked her to eat lunch with her at The Pit today.
“It’s going to be empty again, and I got something I wanna show you.”
Jennifer sighed, “look, Heather, I had a lot of fun yesterday, but I don’t think we should make a habit out of this.”
Heather cut her in midsentence, “don’t worry, it’s not the same. I got something else. Do you like Skittles?”
Jennifer assumed that those “Skittles” were actually pills of some sort. She was very surprised to find they were essentially the round, colourful candies known to her as fruit Skittles since she was four.
“Eat your lunch, girl,” Heather pointed to her lunch bag, “no dessert until you finish your food!”
Jennifer wrinkled her nose in confusion; “why are you making such a big deal about SKITTLES?” She asked Heather. Frankly, she was convinced those “Skittles” were actually a lot less innocent than they looked, but didn’t want to say anything.
Heather sighed. “How long have we been friends?”
Good question, though Jennifer. “Four, five years?”
“Yes, and was I already a druggie we became besties?”
Jennifer didn’t need to think about the answer. “Obviously, but...”
“Yeah! These are modified Skittles, biotch. Haven’t you ever wanted to REALLY taste the rainbow?”
Jennifer couldn’t help but laugh. Seldom was Heather capable of making a joke that was actually clever. “Modified? Oh god look, I’m not doing anything like Speed. That stuff is bad, even for you.”
Heather laughed. “Don’t you worryyyy, this is just hash, it’s cannabis,” she bit the Skittle and showed that the inside was made of a dark, fibrous substance. “Made with artificial colours and flavours,” she shoved a handful in her mouth, “mmm, tastes fruity.”
Jennifer finished her ham and turkey sandwich and took a handful of colourful Skittles. She gave her friend an expectant look, and put the Skittles in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed the fruity hash bites.
“Mmm, they’re pretty good,” thought Jennifer as the drug began to affect her. She stared into the bright pink sun, which was checkered with yellow marshmallow-clouds, and began to giggle. She heard Heather giggling with her.
“How do you feel?” Heather asked.
“This...is...great!” mumbled Jennifer in a thick, dull voice. “I haven’t been this relaxed since I was probably seven, and that was during my trip to the Planetarium. But this is even better than the Planetarium!” Indeed, Jennifer could almost taste the clouds, they looked so delicious...
“What are you seeing?” She asked Heather.
“Um, you see that tree over there?” She pointed to their left. “Well, I know it was a tree, but it kinda looks like an emu.”
Jennifer inspected the tree carefully. “Really? Mmm, I don’t see it. Are you sure you know what an emu is, Heather?”
“Of course I know what an emu is! You think I’m that stupid?” She slapped her friend playfully. They both giggled again, and continued popping hash Skittles into their mouths.
“They don’t have any negative side effects, do they?” asked Jennifer.
“Considering the price I paid for them, I sure as hell hope not, “said Heather. “I think I should change the music. Have you ever heard Kraftwerk?”
Heather shuffled her ipod to a track called "Radioactivity", and they both drifted into another drug-induced hallucination. Jennifer has never felt like this. She was scared, but she enjoyed herself far too much to sober up in time for her next class. Whether the third period bell actually rang or not, she never found out, as she felt her eyelids betraying her. Damn it, thought Jennifer. She only slept four hours that night, so the drug was particularly potent, although she was convinced it was not intended to be. Heather became surprisingly quiet, though. Jennifer became worried. Eventually she gathered enough strength to call out: “Heather?” And she heard a moan of struggle, followed by actual physical struggling. She opened her eyes, and found out they were no longer in the pit!
Heather and Jennifer were in a dark basement, sitting on two wooden chairs. Jennifer tried to move her limbs, but realized they were restrained to a chair! She looked down and saw coils of hemp rope bound tightly against her arms, body, and legs. Heather was tied up the exact same way, but she was also gagged with a rag.
“Heather!” Jennifer screamed. “Where the hell are we?!”
“Hmmm!” Heather replied. Oh right, thought Jennifer. You’re gagged, you can’t speak. The hallucinatory effect of the Skittles was quickly dissipating as reality sank in. However, Jennifer was now experiencing the side-effect of a major headache. “Gosh, my head,” she muttered. “I wish I had a Tylenol with me.” Even if she had one, her arms were bound too tightly to reach inside her pocket.
“I’m sure I can offer you something better,” someone said back. It was a faint, breathy voice belonging to an older man. He approached her, but in the basement’s darkness, she could not see his face very well.
“WHO ARE YOU?!” Screamed Jennifer. “Hmmfff!” Heather groused concurringly.
The man chuckled. “Who am I? You’re about to find out, Jennifer Jung...”
To be continued!
