SHED

I had no control over my feet. My mind was blank as I ran against the cold, tears streaming down my face. I ran back to the convenience store. It was the closest place I knew would be open at this time of day, but I was met with disappointment when I arrived. My body clashed into the door, as I used my fists to pound on the glass. The lights were off. It's quiet. 

"Hello? Please… I need help!" I screamed into the glass, like someone would hear me, but there was no one. The tips of my fingers slid down the crystal clear surface, leaving behind a gelatinous fluid. My eyes went down to my hands as a wave of confusion hit me. My hands seem to be drenched in this tan gunk. What is this?  What did I touch? I ran my palms over my jeans, trying to get them clean, but the more I wiped the more there seemed to be. There was something else. Jiggly, yet thin pieces of skin were breaking away from each other, falling from the limbs of my fingers. My mouth opened in a panic. I didn’t feel pain, but it looked… not normal. Not right. I breathed heavily again, prepared to scream. 

I didn’t know where I was going. I just took off yet again. It wasn’t until I saw the motel in the distance that I realized I was running somewhere I thought I would be safe. The door slammed shut behind me. My thoughts were all over the place that I didn’t even bother to lock the door.. I raced into the bathroom, quickly removing my clothing, and my skin seemed to peel off with it. Beneath it, this light pink… my blood, the flesh lying beneath the skin, was showing. I wept as I pulled at the pieces, liking ripping tough dried glue from my body. What is this? What is happening to me? Do I go to the hospital? Who do I call? How do I make it stop? There were so many questions going through my head and I had no answers. I stared at the red face in the mirror. This wasn’t me. I looked dead. There was one emotion that was more clear than the confusion, and that was terror. I found myself under large streams of water, scrubbing every area that I could beneath the shower head. At one point, a clump of my curly hair came out, twirling itself around my long fingers. I just sobbed. Maybe I was dying. But I still felt no pain. Everything I felt was all emotion, nothing physical. When my skin just kept peeling, I just sat down, bringing my knees to my chest, hugging my lower body in comfort. I closed my eyes not wanting to see the pieces of me beginning to clog the drain of the bathtub.

I peeked through my long lashes, a positive feeling vibrating all over as I welcomed the sight of the sun. A sigh of relief is what my lips let loose and I realized it was just a dream. I uncradled my body, rolling over on to my back. My eyes are wide now as I bring memories to the room. The ceiling is cracked and surrounding me is white enameled iron. The kind that most bathtubs are made up of. My right hand grips the siding as I pull my body up and alarms go off in my head. I lay in the sludge of my own dead skin. At least, that's what I think this is. Looking at my body now, eyes skimming over every part, my skin was back. It was like… I had shed. What sense does that make? I quickly scramble to my feet, hopping out onto the bare floor. I found the mirror yet again. I blinked, trying to wrap my head around what I was seeing, trying to understand what happened last night and what is happening now. I am myself. Naked, I see every part of me, and there is no evidence of the nightmare that was so fresh in my brain. Nothing but the pile of skin that I slept on. The question remains, what do I do? Where do I go?

There is only one person in the whole world that I trust. Elias. 

I understood that it was risky coming back here. I had left John alone, his body appearing to do what mine did, but he was definitely feeling agony. The screamed he let out said so, while I felt nothing but intense anxiety and utter puzzlement. 

I left him there, in the cold. It’s not like I owed him anything, but the image of him was burned into my mind. Guilt plagued my heart and inner thoughts. I should have done more. As I walked across the street to the three story townhome I wanted so badly to leave behind, I wondered if John would be there. Would he open the door for me? Or would he punish me for abandoning him? I had no choice. No other person to turn to. I raised my fist to the tall entrance of the home, knocking a few times. I stood tall, ready to take whatever would come. The door swings open and I am faced with Sabor, the person that I wanted to see. He is still dressed in his white boxes and T-shirt, his hair messily over his head. He must’ve rolled right out of the bed to answer the door. 

“Sincere!” His eyes grow wide and he glances around just before yanking me into the building. “What are you doing here?” 

“Is John here?” I asked, feeling that panic beginning to rise once again. He shook his head, his eyes wide as he saw that I wasn’t myself. 

“Sincere, what is it? What’s wrong?” He only wanted the answers to his questions. 

“IS JOHN HERE?” I repeated. He shook his head before he spoke. 

“No, he isn’t. You think I would have let you in if he was?” That was true. To Sabor, my protection was a high priority. “Now what's happening? Why are you back here?” I collapsed into his chest, burying my face in his clothing as I wept yet again. His arms wrapped around me, as he rubbed my head, running fingers through my hair as he always did when I needed comfort. “Sincere Rose….” his voice cracks, “What’s wrong?” 

We stared at each other. I looked at him waiting for him to call me crazy, but still believed the events I described last night. He looked at me waiting for me to tell the punchline. We had taken the discussion up to his bedroom, behind a closed door. I sat on the bed while he leaned up against the wall. 

“You… shed?” I nodded. He snickered. 

“Do not laugh at me, I am being serious!” He walked closer to me, staring down at me. 

“Look, I’m not saying I don’t believe it… but I mean, first night out of the house… did you have a drink or something…?” 

“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?” I stood up, putting my hands in his face as I yelled. “I was attacked last night, and this…this…. This happened to me!” I could hear my pulse in my ears as I felt as if I was ready to explode in anger. No matter what wild stories came from my lips, Sabor was supposed to always believe me. He was supposed to stay by my side and help me through it, not laugh in my face. If not him, then who? “I peeled the skin of my body Elias! I held it in my hand! I slept in it! and this morning I woke up… and everything is fine….” I knew it didn’t make any sense. 

“And who attacked you?” He questioned. “Why didn’t you go to the police?”  I did leave that part out, saying that a stranger had approached me. I felt ashamed for how I handled myself and the situation last night. 

“It was John.” 

“What? John?” 

“Yes. He found me… and… he tried….” I trailed off. I wasn’t going to go into detail. “He tried to attack me, but then….” 

“You started shedding.” 

“Stop saying it like that!” I shouted. 

“Like what?” He asked. “That’s what you said.” 

“But you’re mocking me! Like it’s some joke!” My frustrations were more than evident. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I think.. You bumped your head or something. People don’t shed and then be magically healed the next day.” 

“Where is John?” I crossed my arms waiting for an answer. He opened his mouth, like he had an answer. 

“I don't know,” he chuckled, rolling his eyes. “He didn’t come home last night, he’s probably somewhere passed out in rum and his own vomit.” I remembered smelling John last night. He didn’t smell like alcohol. Motor oil is what I remembered. It made me shudder thinking he was in his right mind. Sober, and he still did what he did; tried to do more. 

“I was with him, Sabor. He was hurt, and I left him.” He stared at me, looking for the lie. A loud banging echoed throughout the house. There was an ominous feeling in the air. Sabor must have felt it too. 

“Stay here.” It was an order and it was best that I listen.