It is dark. Black, really. There is no light anywhere. And there is no sound. There is nothing. Nothing but nothing.

This stunning blackness, this lack of light and sound, scares me concious. And I am in my bed. With an empty glass of juice in my hand. My right index finger slides, slimey, against the plastic cup, wet with blood.

Nothing makes sense. Bob's voice is the first thing I'm able to hear. "You need to test."

"I already tested," I answer, "Can't you see the blood?"

"You poked yourself, but you didn't test," He replies, "Come on, it's been about twenty minutes since you finished that juice."

"Was it bad?" I ask.

"Not as bad as it's been. You took the juice fine, no spitting, no screaming, no fighting. It was scary though, because you didn't say a word. It was like you were asleep with your eyes wide open." (READ MORE)