One morning, when Locked Girl woke from troubled dreams, she found herself transformed in her bed into a horrible vermin.
I’m kidding. Not about the ‘troubled dreams’ part, that’s true enough, it involved a lot of clothes hangers and sharks, as I recall. Lots of sharks.
I love sharks. But I also hate them. I could go on for ages about sharks, but I won’t, because that’s not the point.
What is the point is that someone–I don’t know who–is trying to kill me.
When I woke up this morning, at approximately 5:25, as I recall, things seemed normal at first. A little stiff, a little sore–nothing unusual since going off the nerve pain medication–but it didn’t last. Soon enough I noticed something unusual.
My hands… something was wrong. They were numb, incredibly itchy, and then–well, then the pain started. I didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t know why they were like that–and when I looked at them, I only freaked out more. My fingers were discolored and swollen, and it wasn’t over yet.
Hours passed. I was prevented from going to school by the startling events, and on top of that prevented from doing… well, pretty much anything using my hands, in order to try and keep things from getting worse. Which is, well, most of the things I normally do. Write, play piano, so many things I was rendered incapable of doing… It was incredibly frustrating. I was essentially reduced to watching television… for hours and hours… until finally, I was able to see a doctor. It was deemed an allergic reaction–that I touched something that I shouldn’t have. And I was given medicine for it, and it seems to have helped… which leads to the question, just what did I touch?
No one can recall anything that might have caused it, and the strangest part is the near-perfectly symmetrical effects on my hands.
A strange reaction with odd effects and an unknown cause…
It’s very simple, really. If there’s nothing new that I could have touched to cause it, it must have been something that I’ve touched before. However, that would beg the question–what was different about it now, that it would cause such a severe reaction?
(You should have seen my hands… they looked like marshmallows. Large, purple marshmallows.)
As I said, it’s simple. Someone introduced a foreign substance into my belongings–possibly on the keyboard of the very laptop I’m using now–with the intent to induce a fatal reaction. Unfortunately for them, the agent only affected my hands, and nothing else, leaving their attempt a failure…
Of course, that means that they’ll be left with no choice but to try again. This time, however, I know what they’re up to. This time, I’ll be waiting.
I don’t know who it is or why they’re after me, but whoever you are, I know what you’re trying to do. And I’ll play your little game… I’ve got nothing better to do, after all.
So come on, then.