So the next morning you lay there in your bed in a bit
of sleepy haze,staring at the distant ceiling yet a ceiling shade which seemed to be
just above your face.
A fly that had lain there dead and dormant on the lamps glass suddenly started
twitching and then buzzing
and you watched without concern as the buzzing dead fly flew into
your line of sight,burst into flames and the little flaming corpse plopped
down on the mattress and after a few minutes you could smell the delicious aroma of the smoke and charred fly
in your nostrils.
About another minute went by before the stray thought occured that
a big fire in your room,though cozy to you,might not be seen as such by others.
So you grabbed the mattress behind you and beat out the small inferno.
The smoke alarms should have been ringing all over the dorm.
Yet they weren't.
More fully awake now,you realized why.
You were breathing in the smoke but not
expelling it out again.
You were a smoke breather .
Suddenly the events of last night came back to you.
Especially the drop off a 100 foot cliff and landing flat on your back on
the stones below.
At the very least your back should have been throbbing in pain,with black and blue bruises
but as you felt yourself and examined yourself in the dresser mirror,
you made a few new discoveries .
The whispers in your mind <sister sister> was
still there in the background but now a new word was getting whispered by
your unwanted guests
<March 33 March 33 March 33>
As your hands felt lower down along your spine you nearly screamed in pain as
they touched your tailbone.
Which did feel like a 100 foot drop had done it sore.
So you rushed to the bathroom to get a glass of water to cool that tailbone down.
At which point you realized the glass felt wierd,like it was more ripply,
more curvy.
You felt your fingers.
You could feel no 1 3 and your thumb,but no 2 and 4 were completely nerve dead.
You were still puzzling this out when you felt your tongue suddenly shift
and feel like it had doubled in length.
When you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue at the mirror
you could see your tongue was unchanged.
Yet it still FELT like
you had a mouthful of tongue now.
Your eyes were telling you that
you were you
and your sense of touch was telling you
that you were something else.