It’s Clinical

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I have like, three different diseases. My name is Beth, and I’m addicted to caffeine and nicotine; I just roll those into one, and say “addict” –there, that’s one disease. Now everyone says, “Hi, Beth,” and I tell you my story, right? I am also a diabetic but you know, who the hell isn’t nowadays? The last big one is where all my trouble comes from, the main source of stress: I am clinically depressed. I have a prescription, which works, when I can remember to take it, but when I don’t, look out, the world is ending and I am bawling for at least three or four hours straight. I’m a believer in modern medicine; I believe in what works, and pills, surgery, shots, –they work.

I’ve been fighting a lot with my roommate, Andrew, whom I am completely in love with; it’s not reciprocated, which gives a whole new dimension to our fights, making them a lot more … well, just a lot more. More annoying, more intense, more painful, numerous, stupid. You pick.

So tonight I’m on my own. This last blow up has me headed out, and down the many, many stairs, and of course, the Andrew parked the car as far away from our building as he could get it for some reason. it’s freezing, something like 18 degrees out tonight, and the lights are fizzing in and out. Broken glass everywhere, because, let’s face it, we live in a shitty complex, in a shitty part of the city.

There is an animal in the lot, like a dog or something. I can just make something out, moving from car to car, under them. It’s probably looking for one that’s still warm, but I’m the only person up this late. Poor thing, not even our car is warm yet. I can see our big, burgundy monstrosity from here, about 20 yards away. It’s quiet now, and I can’t hear the animal anymore, so evidently it found something warm. It seems like, the closer I get to my car, the quieter it gets.

The lights flicker, and I can just see a flash of night shine on a pair of eyes under the car.

“Shit…” I say, and flick my keychain at the animal, hoping to shoo it away.

“Go home, shoo!” I pull the pepper spray, and it’s coming slowly from under the car. I back away, first to give the animal confidence enough to get out from under my car, but… its body is…. longer than it should be. Long arms stretch and this thing… heaves itself out from beneath the car, dragging first its head, then its shoulders into view.

I have seen enough horror movies to know that this is plenty, and to get the hell out of there. I bolt back to the door, the fight with Andrew forgotten, and I look back, perhaps… no definitely stupidly, to see if it’s gone or still moving, or closer. It’s gone and I keep running, and trip over myself trying to get the key back into the door of our building, and naturally, this pinnacle moment of every horror story….

It’s not like its described or shown in films. Have you ever been bit by a dog? Not like, when they’re playing, but really bitten? That shit hurts like crazy, and this was about ten times worse, because this goddamn thing was not a dog but some kind of deformed… thing. It was thin, and it smelled like ten trashcans full of dead bodies, and dirty diapers. All the angles were sharp and it was hairy in some places, bald in others; nude, and shivering in the cold, and fingers that were impossibly long; claws attached to black hands; the bod was black, –and not black like, the average black guy, –that’s brown. This thing was black like engine grease.

Then it was gone. I was bleeding, and I distinctly remember kicking it in the face three or four times with the leg that wasn’t being chewed off.

I got shots for rabies, and everyone thought I was hallucinating. I tried telling Andrew about it, and he gave me his “You’re clearly going insane, but I will humor you anyway” face. And in a little less than a month, things were getting back to normal again.

Then we got the hospital bills, and we got into a huge fight about funds for the hospital bills. As beautiful as he is, sometimes, –actually, all the time now, I get this urge to rip Andrew’s face off. Tonight there’s a full moon, and I’m off tomorrow, so I’m going to make a night of it. Stay up, drink, watch movies, and who knows? Maybe go a little crazy.

Except I’m starting to itch, and burn; I get hot flashes sometimes… No, I’m definitely in trouble. And as my face echoes the face of a wolf I killed recently, I realize.. he’s so close. The wolf; promising freedom, companions beyond these in this life, and no pressure to conform or perform. I choose freedom, and have decided to leave the beautiful Andrew, who never wanted me or my love anyway, and the life he represented.

Now I am crouched, waiting for Andrew to come home from work. I will rip his throat out … How should I feel? I’m tired, and I just want to eat this fucker before I get some sleep tonight.

My bones break, and reform, I’m hiding in a closet, and so giddy now. The excitement is palpable, my heart is beating so fast. I just wanna play… so much. I’m scary, I know it, but I don’t care. Everything is simple. I ate my own cat a while ago. It scratched me, but some parts tasted good. Others didn’t. I left the mess on Andrew’s bed when I was finished. I wonder if there is a medication for this? I feel so much better, I don’t think I need my other pills now.

I think I hear the key in the lock. He’s going to be so surprised…