Something wild happened to me today

Chapter 6

Thursday, March 22nd, 2007, 1:46 PM

I’m scared

I’m at home. 

I didn’t end up going to the office. My nerves and imagination—which goes overboard whenever it wants to—were too much for me. I called one of my clients who I had a meeting with today, and rescheduled for tomorrow. Everything else I was supposed to do today can be done just fine from here, although with all the nonsense running through my head a million miles an hour, I’m not in the best condition to do so.

To begin with, I’m pretty nerdy; I’m not going to deny it. I’ve collected comics since I was little, just like movies—original ones; more than anything else, I read fantasy and horror books. To top it all off, I role-play with my lifelong friends when we manage to get together. The “whole deal”, as they say, which leads me to have a fairly open mind.

As soon as I saw I didn’t even have a scratch, the first thing I thought was:

“Shit, I’m Wolverine!”

Then the panic set in.

These things only happen in comics or movies. They aren’t real. I’m not some fucking mutant, and I didn’t eat a piece of a meteorite that gave me powers. Most likely, what’s happening is that I’m sick. Or nuts.

One of the neighbors—I can’t remember their name—told me that I should go see a doctor. Maybe they’re right. But, I mean…what am I going to tell him? “Sorry, doctor, yesterday I fought with my neighbor and I ended up in really bad shape, but today I got up and I’m good as new. Do you know if this is normal?”

But that’s not everything. Yesterday, while we were eating, when I told Magda about my nasal hemorrhage before everything happened, she said that it wasn’t normal. That if my nose was bleeding out of both nostrils continuously, it could be something serious. Even more so if I suffer from migraines. That I should definitely go to the doctor’s.

My nose hasn’t bled again, and it’s not like I have a very high opinion of doctors. Besides, I’m one of those people that only goes when there’s no other option. I know it’s not right, but that’s how I am. I feel fine today, so I’m not going to the doctor’s, even if I’m shitting myself.

I still haven’t told anyone about what’s happening to me. Maybe I’ll call Rafa this afternoon and see if he wants to go get a few beers. Talking with him always calms me down. Aside from being the most logical and practical guy I know, he knows about pretty much everything. I’m sure he’ll know what to do. Or maybe he’ll tell me to go to hell for making stuff up.

I’m going to see what’s in the fridge—as if I didn’t already know. I’m starving.