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I was supposed to be carving a solid life path for myself with a degree in social work—you know, pulling myself up by the bootstraps despite the deadbeat dad and the mom currently six feet under—but right now, I felt more like someone who needed a social worker than someone who should be one. I really needed to get my shit together, keep my head down, and focus.
And definitely no more good-for-nothing boyfriends.
From here on out, it would just be me, myself, and I.
It took approximately a thousand years, but I made it back to my apartment. Of course, in whatever shitshow last night had become, I’d lost my backpack somewhere along the way. I groaned inwardly when I realized I’d need to cancel all my credit cards—again. This was why my credit score was in the tank. Well, that and the fact that I’d been barely scraping by for months, and maxing out a few different cards had been just about the only way I could survive.
As I walked up the steps of my apartment building, it occurred to me that my keys had also been in my purse.
Double damn.
Fortunately, that was a problem I had a solution for. I staggered back down the steps and walked around the side of the building, then pulled down the ladder to reach the fire escape. I headed up the wobbly metal steps to the landing on the third floor and pried open the window. It got stuck less than halfway up, but it was a wide enough gap for me to shove my body through.
My entrance was definitely less than graceful, and my ass scraped against the frame before I tumbled to the floor, but at least I was home.
Resisting the urge to pass out again where I lay, I pulled myself upright and headed toward the bathroom, feet shuffling against hardwood floors that were in desperate need of a deep cleaning.
In the dingy bathroom, I splashed my face with water, hoping it would bring me back to my senses. The cold droplets landed on my face and neck and seemed to sizzle against my warm skin. I felt almost feverish, hot all over.
I patted my face dry with a towel and then straightened, reaching out to close the over-the-sink medicine cabinet I’d left open last time I was in here. Mentally, I braced myself for the horror show that would be my face. I really didn’t want to see the effects of my insane night, but I needed to see how shitty I looked and whether I’d be forced to skip class come Monday morning.
When I caught sight of my reflection though, it was nothing like what I’d been braced for. It was so much worse. My breath hitched with a choking noise as my eyes nearly bugged out of my skull.
I blinked.
But the image in the mirror stayed the same.
“What the actual fuck?” I shouted.
With trembling hands, I reached for the horns—yes, horns—popping out of the top of my head. They were little nubs made of some dark material that protruded from just below my hairline. My face was brig
ht red. And not like I was embarrassed or had been working out hard or anything like that. No, I looked like someone had dunked me into a vat of crimson paint.
No fucking way.
This had to be a damn nightmare. Some kind of bad trip or a fever dream. That was the only possible explanation for my appearance. Before I allowed myself to enter full freak-out mode, I took a second to breathe through my nose.
“Nope. It’s not real,” I muttered almost threateningly to the demonic reflection that kept staring at me through the mirror. “This is just a dream. A really fucked up dream, but a dream. That’s all. As soon as I pinch myself, I’m going to wake up safe and sound in my bed. Like this never fucking happened.”
Keeping one suspicious eye on the mirror, I tugged off my shirt, revealing my pink bra and more bright red skin. The deep crimson tone faded a little toward the ends of my extremities—my hands were only slightly pinkish, as if I’d gotten a bad sunburn on them. That explained why I hadn’t noticed the change in my skin before.
“Motherfucker…”
Slowly, I reached up to pinch the flaming red skin on my chest. It stung, just like you’d expect a pinch to.
But I didn’t wake up.
Nothing changed.
My heart picked up its pace, slamming hard in my chest as I quickly unbuttoned my pants, shoving them down my legs and kicking them off to inspect the rest of my body. My stomach and legs were bright red too, though the color faded near my feet. And—
Something moved between my ankles.
What the hell is that?
I spun around in a circle like a dog chasing its tail, then froze.
“Oh my god, I am like a dog chasing its tail,” I breathed, a sick feeling roiling my stomach.
