The floorboards creaked an glowed faintly green, it wasn't meant to last this long.
He took this new legal high with his friends and they've vanished since.
Everyone has vanished since.
He spends his days wandering through empty unlocked homes in search of others.
He'd counted over a year's worth of days and still the world was a mass of swirling void.
Some things looked inverted or at impossible angles, flowers talked in static bursts.
His friends said that "Nazza", as it was called, lasted longer than any other high.
Well they weren't lying.
His latest attempt to find other people was to find a helicopter and fly to the mainland.
It could have worked if he had known how to pilot one.
At least he died quickly, flew straight into a bus shelter - neck snapped clean.
He was the fifth to be found in such strange circumstances and with such strange coloured blood.
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