Bottle

My damnation came in the form of a bottle.

No, not like that.

When I was a child, my best friend lived next to a little junkyard - a great place for a kid to hang out.

The place was full of mystery and exciting discoveries, and if you found anything nice, nobody minded if you took it. Well, no one but your parents. The only exception was my friend’s mom; most of their bowls and plates came from that junkyard. But I digress.

One day, a bunch of us were hanging out there, dismantling a car. Some of us were interested in the parts, but I just thought breaking stuff was great. When we’d gotten the engine strewn everywhere, we set to work on the interior. Under one of the seats was a little glass bottle, full of some green, bubbly liquid.

Curiosity trumped hygiene in those days. I uncorked it and sniffed it. The smell was pleasant, minty, and a little floral. One kid, Jackie, dared me to drink it. It was a double-dog dare. I had to.

The taste was also pleasant, and it warmed me on the way down. My body was filled with a strange, pleasant tingling. Nothing else happened, not until that night.

The first effect was that I couldn’t sleep. I haven’t needed sleep since. It’s alright, though. I get a lot done.

The second effect came a month later. I started to cough things up. I was playing alone in the woods and hacked up blood. Not just liquid, but chunks as well. Then I was puking. The entirety of my coiled long intestine came snaking up as I sat there quivering, tears on my cheeks, struggling to breathe. I was literally puking my guts out.

My mouth seemed to unhinge like a snake’s to accommodate my lungs. My heart was on my sleeve. The bloodstain would never have come out if I hadn’t abandoned the clothes I was wearing. The police searched frantically for a missing person, but never found a thing.

I wasn’t empty when I finished, though. New organs built up inside me. I could feel them, I could see them when I closed my eyes, nameless lumps and spirals springing out of nothing.

Finally, the third effect. Two months later, I began to crave exuberant amounts of water. I can’t possibly describe the feeling of thirsty skin, but it was a desperate thirst. I left my parents’ house one night and walked until I came to a swamp. I moved in. The murky, bug-filled waters feel like home now, as they did all those years ago. I sit under the water, watching the fish and salamanders get eaten by herons; looking at the surface and waiting for my prey.

I’m sure you know what the fourth effect was. I’m typing this on the cell phone of my latest victim. She was delicious. She smelled just like fresh melons. mngamojemo