I AM SIMPLY NOT THERE

It didn’t happen gradually — Patrice woke up at 4am with her stomach growling loudly; FEEDING her hunger became the first mission of the morning. Bare pedicured feet patter lightly on the hardwood flooring and pause over the white tiles of her kitchen. She jerks her fridge door open and scans over the food. She snatches the left over meal she brought from a restaurant the night before — she can’t remember why she had it, she never brought food home, but she is grateful in this moment. She plucks the chicken out of the plastic container and takes a large bite. The second the meat touches her tongue, her stomach tightens. She doesn’t know why, she’s never reacted like this before, especially not the night prior. She needs something else, her hunger is overwhelming and UNCONTROLLABLE. Her eyes roam the shelves and she reaches for the raw meat, the smell intoxicating and ravishing. She rips open the plastic and allows the packaging to drop by her feet as she bites viciously into the flesh. It holds no taste as well, but her stomach doesn’t respond negatively so she knows she’s close to what she wants. It doesn’t satiate her hunger — she’s hungry for something, craving a meal that isn’t in her fridge. Something within her drives her away from her kitchen and out the apartment in nothing but a silk nightgown. 

The cold cement shocks the soles of her feet, but her mind is too focused on finding a meal. She’s scouting the bare streets, unsure of what she is looking for. Her nose leads her to head West and at a bus stop with a lone man on the bench. He’s draped in blue scrubs with eyes glued to his phone. He looks up at Patrice as she nears him and he quickly jumps to his feet — CAUTIOUS towards the woman in a white dress stained with food.    ‘   are you okay, miss ?   ’ his voice shakes, clearly afraid of what she may do next. Patrice staring down at him didn’t help her case either. She can smell him from where she’s standing — he uses cheap Irish Spring, which disgusts her initially until she smells what’s under ; his flesh and blood. 

Her mouth unhinges and exposes sharp teeth. Her nails, usually short, extend themselves to be longer and sharper. The man’s eyes ( w i d e n ) and his body shakes as he watches this unfold before him. She lunges her full body onto him and lands them both on the ground. He lets out a cry but is muffled when her fangs rip into his trachea. She’s never felt this hungry in her entire life nor had she had ‘food’ that tasted so good. It is nearly addicting. Blood splatters across the glass station as she tugs on his tendons, the animal within her tearing his body apart.