Uncertainty by Abigail Boyd Read Free Book Online Page B

spaghetti under a paper towel, my bleary eyes watching the glowing tray turn. My appetite grew with every rotation and when it was heated up I scarfed down the entire plate. For the first time in a while, I could actually taste the flavors.
    Going back downstairs after I finished the dishes, I only glanced for Jenna. I knew she wouldn't be there. I'd hallucinated that morning, plain and simple. Sleep had put a great deal of distance between where I'd been that morning and where I was now.
    Even though I'd slept for hours, I still felt tired. I remade the bed, putting on fresh pillowcases and depositing my week's worth of laundry across the hall. Then I settled in for the night, content to no longer be kept awake by my thoughts.
    The dog chased me across the field. I'd never seen a canine so large, its spiky, coal-colored fur jutting off of its powerful frame. I could hear it growling as foam spewed from its maw, rows of strong white teeth chomping together. Its large paws broke through fallen branches and thumped against the hard ground like hoof beats.
    It was going to catch me soon, and when it did...
    I tried to run faster, but my useless legs were ready to drop. The dog, snarling and snuffing, came closer, and I prepared myself to be bitten.
    Then the rules changed. I was the one chasing the dog, as it ran towards the shadows, away from me. I sensed fear from the animal, and the fright was a new feeling the beast didn't recognize. I wanted to rip out its throat with my teeth. Feel the black fur split and tear beneath my mouth. Feel its blood run down my face, fresh and thick and hot.
    I had to catch the dog, before it was too late for all of us.
    When I awoke, I felt refreshed, despite my dream. The weird withdrawal symptoms weren't gone, but they had mellowed significantly. I stretched and got out of bed; it was only 6:30 AM.
    I was up before Hugh. I finally checked Claire's whiteboard. A bunch of mundane chores, nothing too serious. At least there was no lectury note about yesterday; apparently I had been given a pass, after all.
    "Make breakfast" was scribbled next to an ironic smiley face doodle near the bottom. I'm a terrible cook; it is the stuff of legends. I burn everything I touch. And she knew it. But I'd already shirked a day's worth of chores, and I didn't want to give her a reason to be mad.
    Retrieving a mixing bowl, I opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs, cheese and milk. Cracking the eggs on the rim of the bowl, they sloshed inside, looking cheerful.
    Carefully arranged recipes in cookbooks are as incomprehensible as Latin to me, but it didn't matter. Keeping my hands busy prevented my thoughts from going in the wrong direction, and there were so many wrong directions to go in.
    I started humming a tuneless noise, and contemplated turning on the TV, then decided against it. I switched the milk for butter in the fridge. The dial on the stove went up another notch, and I scooped butter into a frying pan, making it sizzle.
    "Are you trying to burn your house down?" Jenna asked from behind me.
    I gasped. The butter tub tumbled from my hand, spoon clattering across the tile and leaving a greasy smear.
    "Good job, messy," Jenna said, amused, as she sauntered into the kitchen. Her flip-flops smacked against the tile.
    "What are you doing here?" I asked, so low I didn't think she would hear me. I could barely hear myself over the blood rushing behind my eardrums.
    A look of hurt momentarily crossed her face. "I walked upstairs," Jenna said curtly. "I got bored waiting for you to come back, and then I couldn't find you. So here I am."
    "You couldn't find me?" I repeated quizzically. I smudged the floor with paper towels. "I looked all over the place for you yesterday."
    "Whatever," Jenna said, crossing her arms, but she seemed to relax. Now that I felt more natural, that I wasn't going through withdrawal as much anymore, it didn't seem as insane that she was there. But I still couldn't allow myself to