I throw the covers off of me in the dark room and sit up in bed, my shirt sticking to the back of my skin. Swinging my legs off to the side, I get up and head to the kitchen for a fresh glass of…something, anything to cool me off and make me feel less sticky. I haven’t been sleeping well lately, and I don’t know why. I tried taking sleeping tablets, but when those didn’t work, I just gave up. Now, I just gaze up at the ceiling until whatever light I see is succumbed by darkness, and I actually think I may have fallen asleep, but I know I haven’t. Everything has just felt off, not just because of my insane case of insomnia or the frequent dizzy spells or lightheadedness…I feel…different. I open the refrigerator with its scarce contents and find a milk carton. I shrug and pull it out. Reaching into the cabinet, I take out a glass and try to fill it with cold milk, but my arms are shaking so bad it sloshes everywhere. I put the carton down and try to steady myself before I pick up the glass, but it doesn’t seem to help. My heart is racing out of my chest now, and my head is pounding. I’ll feel better once I drink something. I pick up the glass and put it to my lips, but I suddenly lose my grip and it slips, crashing to the ground, leaving shards of glass and milk puddled around my feet. If I thought it couldn’t get much worse, I was mistaken, because now I was leaning on the counter for support. Black dots invaded my vision, and blood rushed through my ears. I remember my energy dwindling, I remember collapsing, I remember the darkness engulfing me, I remember…

***

I’m running through a forest with a defining darkness, the one with no sound, the one that takes you in-and doesn’t give you back. I can’t feel anything as my body moves with an alarming speed. The trees go by in shapeless blurs, muddling with the blackness of the night as the sense of danger swells within me, like a being of pure horror lurked behind me. And then I saw him. The boy running ahead of me. It’s not until I caught up to him that I could make out his appearance. His clothes hung off his body in threads from the jagged claw marks rippling throughout the material and the once blue jacket that now hung off his shoulders in rags was stained a muddy red that connected with the streaks of blood running down his arm and into the creases of his palm. Then a blue tinged arm lashed out, snagging onto the remnants of the clothing he had left. We started to fall, and all I could make out was the gray moonlit kissed grass and the starless sky above as we tumbled over each other. New gashes had been left all over his face, as the blood trickled down his cheeks from a wound the size of a branch on his forehead, and his face was stricken with terror as he scrambled to get away. The moon is what got me first, rippling in a puddle beneath me, and then I started to make out a dark figure steadily becoming clearer on the foggy surface. That’s when I realized, that bloodthirsty being, that flesh ripping monster, that blue tinged skin-was me. The next thing I knew, he was getting away, his tattered white t-shirt bright in the faint moonlight as I clutched what use to be his jacket.

***

I was found in the forest in the early morning with what appeared to be a jacket, its remnants scattered all around me in scraps. But of course, I was only told this. I had awoken in a hospital room, its blinding lights seeping through my lids and tearing me away from my dreamless sleep. The doctors were bussing around feeling for broken bones or any signs of injury, but tests come back that I’m fine and functioning normally, so I wasn’t surprised when the police viewed that as suspicious. I mean, how was it that they found a nearly naked and unconscious girl in a heavily wooded area with blood dotting her entire body without any wounds? This is what they asked me, like I just couldn’t comprehend how improbable the notion was. But I couldn’t offer up an answer for their persistent questions because, truly, I didn’t know myself. It baffled me as much as it did them. When they weren’t getting the answers they were looking for, they finally sent me away telling me that whatever happened is still under investigation, but when I got into the car, I was peppered with another line of questions from my parents. I groaned on the inside. How many times did I have to tell these people that I don’t know what the hell happened? I told them exactly what I had told the police, that I was feeling off that night and the next thing I know, I’m passed out cold in the middle of the woods, which is where the police found me, might I add. The questions finally stopped when we got to the house. It was torn apart. Our front door was smashed open, the bottom half splintered and hanging crookedly on one lone hinge. My eyes then traveled to the windows. Glass littered the front lawn, and when the sunlight hit on it just right, you could see the prism of colors sparling from its green blades. Whatever glass was left in the frame jutted out in sharp jagged points like glass peaks. The look of it was so serene. I honestly couldn’t believe this happened just last night. Where was I when this occurred? Who did this? That’s when I remembered. I had gotten up because I couldn’t sleep, but that’s no surprise, so I had gone to go get…milk wasn’t it? A glass of milk, but I was shaking so bad that I dropped it…and then…and then…what? What happened next?