Laughing Matter (Laughing Jack Fic) -Completed-

Chapter 5

Felice:

I woke up with a gasp, my body tingling and buzzing from the nightmare. Wiping away a bead of sweat dribbling down my face, I swing my legs over the side of the bed before standing. I pinch my shirt between my fingers before pulling on it trying to get air circulating. I let out a puff of air, before letting out an annoyed groan.

"Perché è così caldo?!" (Why is it so hot?!) I say exasperatedly.

Looking around my hot room, I walk over to the window before opening it, letting out a sigh as soon as the cool air hits me. Looking over I see the box, seeing it causes a wave of goose bumps to go over me, almost as if the damned thing is staring at me in the most creepy way possible.

"You are one creepy box." I mutter over towards it.

Looking over towards the door, I see Remy perched up on a shelf making cluck noises in his sleep. Staring at the sleeping chicken I snort, before jolting in fright when I see Damy standing next to me.

"Gesù!" (Jesus!) I hiss.

I glare at the unhygienic girl.

"May I ask why the hell you are in here signoria Pharma?" I growl in annoyance.

She begins chanting things before stalking over towards the sleeping chicken, I look over towards a wall before slamming my head against it.

"I'm living with a house for of idiots!"

I look over towards the chanting Damy as she stalks towards Remy, with a growl I snatch the girl up by the ear, getting a yelp of pain, before I literally kick her out, before slamming the door.

"ragazza idiota." (Idiotic girl.) I mutter.

Looking over at my phone, I walk over and pick it up before checking the time.

"5 in the morning." I growl.

Letting out a sigh I walk over towards the box before staring at it, after a long moment I move and walk out of the room, before returning with a wet rag as well as a dry one. Throwing them on the bed, I lift the box up off of my dresser, before sitting back on my bed, and setting it in my lap. Picking up the wet rag I run it over the box, cleaning it. Just one swipe over the box and a ton of dust was removed off the box and now resting on the rag. I scrunch my nose up.

"The owner of you must not have cleaned you." I mutter over at the box, while cleaning it.

Once ridding all of the dust from the box, I dry it with the other rag, making sure I dry it completely so it doesn't ruin the wood on the box anymore than it already is.

Setting the box back down on my dresser, I look at my mirror before lifting my shirt up and looking at where I was stabbed.

Nothing.

Not even a small blemish.

The pain was present through, as well as the familar sentation of an intense heat going throughout my body.

Another symptom of my 'gift.'

This one was worse than the pain, because it left me feeling as if I was being burnt alive. My skin would be extremely hot, but not enough to burn, just enough for someone to notice the heat.

The pain was easier to deal with because over time, once I've gotten used to another level of pain, I'd grow used to it. The heat, however, was something I'd never get used to, luckily it wasn't constent like the pain was, with in a few minutes the burning would fade.

Well maybe not as fast as it used to be, since I did die another time.

Looking outside, I see the sun beyond the horizon, making me smile widely.