What Lies In Me

Chapter 7

No cut. No scab. No scar. No blemish of any kind. There is only the normal contour of my neck. The bandage still has bloodstains on it, so I know that I was actually cut. There is no other record of it. It doesn't make sense to me.

I continue to think about it as I eat dinner with Jackson, Tony, and Sadie. Jackson had some leftover food in the fridge, so it didn't take long for us to start eating, while still talking about the day's events.

Upon discovering that my neck had healed, Tony and Sadie immediately began theorizing about my supposed mystical powers again. The healing of one scratch was more encouragement than they needed. I can't help but wonder myself. Nothing else about today has made sense. Why should I?

As a child, I always wanted powers. I wanted something cool I could show off, something special. For entirely selfish reasons, I wanted to be a hero. Not just any hero, though. I wanted to be a superhero. As I grew older, I rejected that dream. It was just too futile to continue wishing for some event to give me abnormal abilities. I abandoned my childish fantasies. I am an average, ordinary person. But now...

Tony is currently trying to put a finger on just what kind of powers I might have. He is delving into the comic book space, speculating about healing factors, elemental powers, reality warping... the list goes on and on. It's not realistic to compare me to a comic book hero. But I am curious as to how I healed. So...

"You know, Tony, all of that speculating won't do you any good." It's time to make or break this. On the off-chance that something weird is happening with me, we need to find out. Otherwise, we can put it to rest.

"Nothing I can do about it. It's your... thing," he replies, sensing where I'm going with this. "There's only one way to find out how you healed like that..."

"...And that is to test it. Yes. I know." I sigh. This isn't going to be fun. "Jackson, do you have a knife?"

"Yeah, I have a whole bunch of them," he replies.

"Good. Get me one. Tony, Sadie, I think we should move to the garage." I try to grin, but only manage a grimace. "I guess I'm going to cut myself. I'd rather not get blood on the floor in here."

"Ew," Sadie mutters, but doesn't object. Tony and I leave our mostly-finished meals and head into the garage.

Jackson sprints upstairs to grab a knife, and Sadie, seeing him leave, excuses herself to the car to grab more bandages.

"I thought you believed in me!" I yell after her as she exits the garage.

"I'm just being a little bit realistic, just in case!" she calls back.

Jackson returns and hands me a pocketknife. It has a polished wood handle, engraved with images of wolves and trees. The blade feels heavy in my hand. Sadie also returns with the bandages we bought earlier, already sweating thanks to the afternoon sun.

"Alright," I sigh. "Let's get this whole thing over with. You know, most people would think we're insane for even trying this."

"I'm ok with that," Tony says. "It's not like anything else we've seen today couldn't be considered a shared delusion between lunatics. What's one more crazy experience?"

"True that." I pause. "You know, I never thought I'd actually cut myself on purpose."

"Don't be stupid, now," Sadie says. "You just need to draw blood and make a cut. We can test your healing with just that. It doesn't have to be deep at all."

"Alright," I reply, giving her a weak smile. As I finally turn to Jackson for support, he notices my gaze and shuffles his feet awkwardly. Silence ensues.