The type that she swallowed was baby green, round...tiny. “It was called Green Infinity – like the car,” says Serena Chang. Five years ago Chan was a 15-year-old who looked 12, and was learning how to twist her mind with pills. As a committed member of Toronto’s rave scene, she recalls being introduced to Ecstasy.
On a Thursday night, she was on her way to a friend’s party. Sitting in the passenger seat of her Dad’s Honda, small talk was laced with drug thoughts. Her friends had talked about it a lot; how much fun it was.
When the time came, she didn’t hesitate. The intake was sloppy – childish. Chang was unable to swallow pills, so her journey began within greasy, ketchup-soaked fries. The MDMA chemical planted itself in a coagulated potato-batter Trojan horse – waiting to attack Chang’s nervous system when she least expected. “I wasn’t feeling much at first, but I kept getting higher as the night went on. Everyone was having such a good time,” she says.
Before getting her taste of the Ecstasy climax, Chang was outside waiting for her Dad to pick her up. Terrified that he would see through a sober façade, she struggled to convince herself that she wasn’t high. “He’d kick me out of the house if he found out. He’d flip shit!” Her hands trembled, “I’m not high, I am NOT high,” she convinced herself.
But when she got in the car, she began to feel numb. The traffic lights flashed—bending and twisting into strange colours. A terrifying blood-red octagon demanded her to S-T-O-P. She tried to grip reality, but it was slithering away. Ecstasy had inflicted its strongest attack on Chang’s senses at the worst possible time. Dad drove on...oblivious.
When she got home, she spoke to her Dad with dilated pupils before heading to her room and losing herself for two hours in the psychedelic graphics of the Windows Media Player. Her mind had been farther from home than she’d ever been.
Chang woke up itching for the next chance she’d be able to do it all over again.