After the weird hunting occasion with Lisa Soper, I soaked my body in my bathtub for an hour. I scrubbed my teeth all the while…not with paste but with soap instead. Every time I closed my eyes I just recalled kissing something whose face was made of eyes, the worst part was that I could do nothing at all.
During dinner at the cafeteria,
“ Aaaaaaah” Jefferson shouted “What’s wrong with your face?” he pulled up a seat beside me
“ I don’t know, what’s wrong with yours?” I shot back
He felt his face
“ Nothing” he said
“ Nothing’s wrong with my face either” I snapped
He studied me for a couple of seconds
“ Something’s happened to your face mate, something bad” he sighed
I had a very hard time chewing and swallowing my dinner because of sore lips, gum and tongue.
“ Michael, your face
