[ CW ] Write a horror story with no gore or death , not even implied .

I wrote this a while back for a writing exercise, it's pretty basic and needs some editing, but I'm proud of it. It's based on a real experience, unfortunately. 
 
 **Bad Trip** 
 
 The air is becoming awful, a sickly sweet humidity that drenches your body in a sticky sheen of sweat. What clothes that touches your skin soaks and clings, forcing the feverish heat within to intensify where it connected. Beginning to gasp through your breathing, you set the pipe beside empty bottles and cough. They had said it was strong, promising through grins that the high would last the night. Truth or lie, the alcohol assured it would. The last few hits had made the thrumming of your heartbeat into an aching that went from sternum to throat, vibrating each with every beat. You decide through wordless thoughts you wo n't have anymore. If the sweating was n't bad enough, the churning, swirling sensation in your head was only becoming more intense. Strange, unsolicited thoughts come as quickly as they pass, as formless as they are pointless, fragments and threads that went nowhere. By instinct, you stare ahead at the street through the blurring lag of your vision like you might a work of art, searching for meaning and pattern though inarticulately. A realization strikes, dulled by the increasing sway of your mind, that your thoughts do not come or cease at your will; You no longer control your thoughts. Uncomfortable, heart quickening its beat, there is an increasing desperate moment of focus. The sensation of a weightless vortex within your head is building more and more intense. Forcing focus, you look at your wrist. The display shows **08:15 pm** glowing a dull green. 
 
 Too much smoke, too fast, it was still catching up. You close your eyes, now somewhat urgently willing focus and control. The void yawns silently, deepening, drawing thicker around you in depth and control. An intense weight and current, all thoughts surrender utterly to the sensation of spinning back and over. Fear flushes your body as the sensation builds exponentially, as if your head were pulled back against a waterfall that flowed from every direction at once. Your eyes widen quickly, any actions taken now driven by instinct. Trees, cars, the street all shimmer like reflections in water as the image and your head roll back. The staccato thrumming of your heartbeat is painful, pumping battery acid through clenching veins either side your neck. Panting, the great pull of the void softens as eyes opened widely staring intently ahead. They grasp for a point of reference, an anchor, stability. The chill that creeps from toes through ligaments and up your spine is like freezing water, forcing a tense, cold sweat. A tight blink becomes a nod, and the grit of concrete against hair is not enough to draw you back from the void's renewed embrace. 
 
 The sensation becomes manifest and seizes. Raw, roaring sound building. Feeling, like within a tire, conscious as it begins to spin. Shifting in weight, hard pressure on the left half. Panic. A duration. Movement. The tire spins faster. Intensity. Consciousness falling round and back. Up side down. Hanging. Panic. Sweat. Churn. Falling. The body seizes. Intensity. Whimpering whispers, gasps. Aching. Ringing in ears destroying thought. Panic. A duration. Hands grasping, squeeze grey matter. Tears, hot. Shaking. Vibrating. Deafening ringing roar. Shuddering pain. A duration. Intensity. Wall of noise. Tire spins faster. Eyes widen, all a blur, new angle. Green glowing. Squeezing pressure through head, focus, sight. Numbers and letters: 
 
 **08:21 pm**
