08.12.2002 - 8:07 a.m.

My roommate came into my bedroom this morning. My alarm had gone off, but I hadn�t gotten out of bed. I was having a hard time focusing. My head hurt, my body ached, and I wasn�t entirely sure where I was.

�Good morning,� she said.

�I�m sorry, I just need to know if I am awake. Am I awake?�

�Yeah. You�re awake. See?� She crossed to the edge of my bed and sat down. The bed shifted with her weight. I was pretty sure my dreaming self usually missed that kind of detail.

So I was awake, but my eyes were still confused. It was almost like I could see through her.

She must have seen my confusion. �Don�t believe me?� she asked, one hand in her jeans pocket.

�I don�t know,� I answered. �I guess I�m just not quite together yet.�

She reached out to take my hand, holding it palm up between us. Her other hand, the one in her pocket, came up holding a keychain, sort of like mine, with a mini pocket knife on it.�This should help,� she promised, then in one quick motion, flipped out the blade and shaved a big chunk out of the meat of my thumb.

I didn�t even pull away, just looked up at her in shock while my hand bled all over the comforter and the brand-new carpet. Something in my head started screaming.

That�s about when she turned vomit-green, sprouted thirty or forty fangs, and bit off my hand.

After that, there was the rabid dog who killed my mom, the running away from a poet who wanted to kill me for inspiration, and the really great sex with this guy who turned out to be a mutant zombie. There may have been more, but those are the ones I woke up over.

Notes for Next Time: leftover Chinese food is not a recommended midnight snack.

-stonebridge

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