Forgettable and on the run

I was late. Again.

I was almost running down the streets of Chestertown. One would think that after two weeks of living in a new town you get used to the new adress and everything. I mean, at least you don't get lost on your way home from the grocery store. Well … not me. I still have my brain programmed to walk the streets of Evendale, my hometown and the least favourite place on earth. I don't know, why. Maybe because it's still early days and it's that time of the month again that makes me restless no matter where I am so I can't focus on anything. Two weeks ago I thought I could run from it. Or maybe I just wanted to run away and disappear for a while from everything that had happened last month and was eventually going to catch up with me. I didn't want that to happen.

It was already dark and out here there aren't many street lights to lighten your way and make your home-searching easier. Elm street, Greenwood Ave, Washington street … they all look the same to me. I took another turn right and thankfully I saw the ridiculously yellow pick-up truck my neighbour, Mrs. West, always left kind of in the midle of the street. I guess she knew that if you were lucky enough to be driving your car too fast at night and even luckier if you spotted the truck a few moments too late,  the fluorescent yellowish colour would inevitably burn your eyes, You'd be blinded for a split second, just enough to make a wide panic turn on the left, which would eventually result in you almost totalling your car on Mr Jefferson's SUV, but at least it wouldn't be on her precious little pick-up. A brilliant strategy if you want to keep your car without a scratch and be the most hated neighbour no one can actually hate, beacuse frankly you're a very nice person, just a terrible car owner.

So when it almost blined me I knew I wasn't far from my house and my heart stopped beating like crazy. I was going to be OK. 

I jumped over the stairs leading to the porch and ran to my door, unlocked it and rushed inside. The hallway was dark and since I didn't have time to find the lightswitch I just tripped into the kitchen over my shoes and books, still neatly packed in boxes of all sizes that I used for moving my belongings. I couldn't see anything so I felt around to locate the cupboard. I knew I only had a few minutes left before my transformation started and if I could get the right dosage this time, maybe Evendale wouldn't happen all over again. I opened the cupboard where I kept all my medicine for astma and migraines. Too many damn … oh, there it is. I took out the cyringe and turned around to take my medicine.

And then I realised I had forgotten my backpack at the

diner. And that was really bad news beacuse it meant I had also forgotten my medicine.

I felt a rush of panic flow through my body, my brain incomprehensibly buzzing with ideas and at the same time unable to make any logical decision. I felt stuck to the kitchen floor and dumb. How could I let that happen on the one night this wasn't supposed to happen?!

I could hear my blood in my ears and my heartbeat growing stronger. Suddenly the kitchen didn't seem so dark anymore and I could even recognise the silhouette of my hands, the dark blue colour of  jeans I was wearing and the AC-DC logo on my T-shirt. I gradually realised I can discern voices of my neighbours ten yards away and I was almost sure a car stopped right outside my house. I was too late. It was happening.

I tried to breathe slowly to calm down. Based on every previous experience, first phase is going to be unpredictable and painful. This was just the intro to the actual  transformation, which meant all my senses were already hypersensitive as they always are when I am fully transformed, but at this point my still-human brain couldn't make any sense of anything. There was just chaos of different smells, weird light patterns and too many noises, so it took me a while to realise my phone was ringing. At first I didn't know how to make my body move because it wouldn't listen to my brain, but then I just focused on the sound and I kind of ended up floating like a disoriented drunk with severe dyspraxia in it's direction. It was in the front pocket of my leather jacket I had tossed somewhere on the floor by the door. Three pretty lame attempts was all it took to pick it up and coordinate both my hands to grab my phone. I felt nauseous and dizzy and I couldn't stand up straight. At first I couldn't read the name on the screen beacuse it seemed the letters were changing its poition every time I blinked. So I opened my eyes really wide and tried unbelievably hard not to blink until I had read who my mysterious and unfortunate caller was.

It was Brian. Really? Now?!

»Hey … Brian …«

»Dude, you forgot your backpack at the diner. I grabbed it while I was leaving and I've got it with me. I'm at your house now, are you at home?«

I wanted to respond, but an excruciating pain overwhelmed my body. I fell on my knees, trying to catch my breath, which seemed impossible beacuse it felt as though someone was stabbing me in my back and my chest with hundreds of little knives whenever I tried to inhale. Brian was outside so it took every bit of my strength to stay quiet. I had to bite on my fist and close my eyes. My head was spinning and I felt as though I was being pulled into a vortex of inrecognisable voices and darkness and pain. I was falling. I was dying. I wanted to breathe.

I need air. I'm losing my mind. I need air. I'm torn to pieces. I'm falling. I'm falling. I'm …

»Ummm, Lance? Are … are you there?«

Silence. Darkness. Breathe. Human. Fear.

Hungry.