10
Prickles in my chest and a nasty smell wafting up my nose woke me the next morning. I opened my eyes to find Mrs. Mops’ butt half-an-inch from my face as she dug her claws straight into my ribs.
“You smelled better when you were God.” Without even appreciating the wonderful normality of it all, I pushed Mrs. Mops off my chest.
The dim light of my room caught on the back of my right hand. Somehow, I’d pulled my bandage loose while I slept, and my skin peeked out through the gauze. Charcoal-black lines cut across my pale hand like some weird tattoo.
Both my hands shook as I pulled the rest of the bandage free.
A set of dots marked where teeth had pierced my skin. Dark lines traced along my veins, where the venom had mixed with my blood, then faded away on my forearm.
I took a few de
