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One story my mum told me about an acid trip of hers was
Her and her partner and their friends were living in this house, they dropped acid and were enjoying the whole experience when the doorbell rang and one of them had to go answer it.
It turned out to be a mail man delivering a package, anyway the noise from the road outside freaked the guy out and his nice acid trip turned into a bad one. He spent the next 7 hours in the corner of the room crying, throwing up and freaking out.
Some of her friends never came down, and now have mental illnesses. Some are dead because they got into harder stuff like heroin. Some are like her and are fine and dandy, and some are like my dad and get acid flashbacks often.
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