It was a warm day, I woke up and almost felt the heat pinching at my skin.

It’s over a year ago now but I still remember the day vividly. Exams were over, but I dreaded the thought of spending the day at home and my brother agreed; for some reason he was home as well. Carefully constructed, our plan was simple, the voices had been suggesting this for a while.

“Try it,” they said.

“It’s more than just cough syrup, It’s purple liquid delight.”

That was enough, we listened to these voices with absolute ignorance. The sun was out and we were going to campus to drink this purple mixture the voices called ‘lean’.

We’re driving when grandmother called. “Your grandfather has been discharged from hospital and you have to fetch him,” she insisted.

He had an episode a few days back and his sugar levels had spiked. His diabetes was now under control, but provided a minor detour to our plan. Fetching him provided no obstacles and after delivering him our mission was clear.

Campus always provides a happy vibe, the mellow sounds of Jon Bellion playing in the background boosted by the injection of relaxation provided by the purple formula and massaged by the familiar faces of those around me, in good old simple terms this is what we refer to as “a vibe”.

The experience is shared and by the apparent satisfied looks on all our faces, the voices have been right. This formidable drink is a purple liquid of delight. As the shared excitement breaks into cheerful banter, I get the sense of the mood changing. My brother almost to every degree looks like he is leaving his body and his eyes in disbelief share this experience.

“What’s going on with you?” I blurt out.

I observe his eyes roll to the back of his head as he collapses at my feet.

“What’s going one with him?” my friend Jay asks as we all stand around him worried and confused.

By the stares and momentary silence, it is clear that none of us know what to do in this situation. After a few more moments of stuttering he finally looks up at us, probably still dizzy from the fall.

“Why is everyone staring at me?” he says dozily, not knowing the panic, we all just went through.

A girl we know spoke him back to consciousness, Jenette is her name. For some reason, in that moment she was the only one that could bring him calmly back to his senses despite my calculated idea to throw water on his face to wake him up.

To my brother, this purple liquid of delight was nothing close to that. Together with his belly containing missed breakfasts, the results for him were devastating. He never drank it again. Some things just aren’t meant for some people.