Anyway, I made it home, but I haven't slept. I keep staring at the clock and thinking about when I was a kid.
I've always been a clock-watcher. Mom taught me that it was important to allot your time wisely. An hour for reading, an hour for homework. I know, I was a fucking dork.
One time I was looking at the clock on a Saturday morning. I was twelve years old and I had just woken up. As I watched, the clock went from 7:42 AM to 8:01 AM.
It happened again the next Monday after school at detention, except this time when I came back to myself I was knee deep in mud in the woods behind my middle school.
I told my therapist, she sent me to a doctor. Thought I might be having "absent seizures". They said "absent" in French or something so it sounded more official I guess. Basically, they thought I was having a seizure in which I was completely catatonic for a space of nearly twenty minutes.
Never mind the fact that my catatonic self would've had to've walked half a mile into the fucking forest.
They glued wires to my head and read my brain waves and flashed bright lights in my face and made me fall asleep with the bulbs still sparking an inch away from my nose. Tests came back negative. I wasn't epileptic, I didn't have any manner of seizure disorder.
They tried to tell me I was drifting off because of my ADD. I know what drifting off feels like, I've been that way my whole life. This wasn't it. They essentially shrugged at me, and I never got an answer.
It didn't happen again for six years.
To the day.
I checked the clock at work. It said 3:46. When I came back, Eric was snapping his fingers in my face. He asked me if I was drifting off again. I checked the clock and it was 3:55. I wasn't drifting off.
When I came back to myself there was blood in my mouth.