I sat on the bed next to my gray suit, nearly hyperventilating. Not again! Why is this happening to me?
It was so hot. I ran my hands through my sweat dampening hair. I yanked off my old, black Pittsburgh Steelers t-shirt.
Every muscle in my body felt tight as a pair of skinny jeans on Kevin James. I needed air. Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.
Actually, I just walked to the window and opened it. I closed my eyes and deeply inhaled the cool night air. The fresh air felt like acid in my lungs. Coughing and hacking, I pushed away and reached for my cigarettes.
I lit up and let the harsh smoke sooth my aching lungs that the nasty fresh air had just assaulted. I was about to close the window when I remembered that second hand smoke kills, so I left it open and pulled the good smoke through the filter of my cigarette.
The nicotine and two thousand other chemicals that they put in cigarettes mixed with my blood and cleared my thoughts. If I had a beer in my hand right now, my world would be perfect.
That's when I noticed the moon. A light gray cloud quickly slid eastward exposing the moon in its full glory.
A chill crept down my spine. It moved so slowly, I never thought it would stop. It spread throughout my body and caused goose bumps to pop up everywhere. I knew the pain would start any moment, but I was man enough to handle it.
The pain didn't wait that long and I began sobbing. I dropped to the floor and took off my jeans, not wanting to damage my best pair in the upcoming throws of agony.
My stomach threatened to reject what was left of the microwave burritos I'd had for lunch. I tried to swallow, but my saliva glands seemed to be on a break.
I knew the change was coming. There was nothing I could do to stop it, so I decided to pick my fight. I would let the change happen, but I would not let it take my heart, my soul.