Myself and two others went round to a friends house last summer 
to trip as his mother was away for a few weeks, there was also 
another person there, Andy who wasn't tripping. We each dropped 
half a mocrdot but within 10 mins I had popped the other half( I 
do this every time I take half, I'm far too impatient) and within 
an hour we were all of our little nuts. We sat around for a 
couple of hours then started to wander the house doing the 
typical sort of naff trip stuff. At some point we all ended up 
back in the fgront room, at which point my mates lodger, who 
lives ther only at the weekends walked in.We all suddenly 
realised it was Friday and that we should have known he'd be 
coming. The place was a tip with sleeping bags, bongs and spliff 
ends all over the place. The lodgwer went fucking ballistic, 
yelling at us to tidy the place up. We started to tidy and as I 
was clearing up, not sure if I was doing it right or not my mum 
phoned, I spent about 5 mins trying to get rid of her as I could 
barely string together a sentence inn english( she didn't figure 
it out luckily) and then we all left apart from the bloke whose 
house it was. Myself and the other innerspace-man, Peter went 
toward the park, telling Andy we'd see him at Peter's house in 
about 10 mins. We walked down the road and into the park, by this 
point the trip had turned really bad and everything that happened 
was terrifying. We were both feeling and thinking exactly the 
same thing, I can't explain this I just know it. We sat down 
under a tree to gather our thoughts. THe conversation went 
something like this.:
"What time is it?"
"I don't know, it's Friday."
"We dropped them about midday, how long has it been?"
"Er.."
We were completely incapable of any thing except shitting our 
pants, everything I looked at splintered in to a million pieces 
so we decided we had to get to Peter's house, even if his mum was 
in, before one of us killed the other. It was only about a 1 
minute walk but on the way there I was as close as it is possible 
to be to going to the police station ( about another minute away, 
conveniently) and turnng myself in so they could put me in a room 
till I came down. I was afraid I'd gone mad and that the trip 
wouldn't wear off
We got to Peter's house and it was empty luckily, we went to his 
room and sat ther shitting ourselves. The main problem was that 
Peter thought his mum would be back any minute so he wanted to 
get rid of me.He suggested I cycle hom(about3 miles) which I 
ruled out instantly. We put a Bob Marley CD on in the hope it 
would take our minds off the very Bad Trip but after about 
10seconds we had to take it off, it was too scary. We sat there 
for about 20 minutes doin gthe same things, me trying to go to 
sleep so it would wear off and Peter trying to keep me awake, he 
didn't want to explain to his mum why I was asleep on the sofa in 
the middle of the afternoon. We were also terrified for the bloke 
we'd left with his lodger, we figured if we were scared he must 
have killed himself with Gerald yelling at him.
Eventually Andy turned up and sat in the room reading a book, 
having no idea that we were in absolute hell. I have no idea what 
we would have done if the 3rd bloke hadn't phoned us and said to 
come back over. He wasn't having a bad trip at all and couldn't 
understand why we were. As soon as I knew he was still alive my 
Bad trip ended and I was enjoying it again. We got back to his 
house to find he had flooded the kitchen playing with water in 
the sink(?!) but was ok.While I was having a bad trip it was the 
most intense experience of my life, pure terror for no reason 
that didn't seem like it would ever end. To me this is what 
tripping is all about now, intense emotion and fear. I enjoy bad 
trips.