I was in a classroom. It seemed like kindergarten. The class was asked to make cards for somebody. Not sure who, but it didn't matter. I didn't have paper to work with, so I looked around the room. There was a card on the desk -- navy blue with a large red heart lined with lace hot glued on top.

Inside the card, though, led to some disappointment--and intrigue. The card had already been filled with someone else's words. Words of passion, regret, longing. Words not meant to be read by me. And yet, the card's recipient shared my first name.

Was there a mix up? Maybe this card was handed to me because someone thought it was for me:

C---! C---! How I long to see you again! I'm sorry for what happened. I miss you so much. It was all my fault. We will meet again. But first, I have to let you know what happened.

I was invading someone else's world. Perhaps two lovers, who knows? And yet, the card was with me. And I continued reading:

* * *

I had to leave because things weren't safe. If there had been some sort of infection teeming through my body, you are the last person I would be with: no matter how much I want to stand by you, stroke your cheek, or share a smile with you, I could not bear to see you like me. Sick. Weak. Gross.

I joined the military after we parted, perhaps because I was scared. I wanted an excuse to leave you behind. The time me last met, there was something I never told you. That fountain where I last saw your almond eyes and tan skin bears all my secrets.

You left for a minute or two. Or three. Or four. I had forgotten why. In your absence, I felt a paroxysm finely creep through my stomach. A subtle tremor at first, leading me to ignore it. Then almost instantly my body urged my conscience to kneel at the fountain's side and hang over the edge. My insides reverberated uncontrollably, and I began to spit out worms into the water in a continuous cascade. The worms swam in the water after the dive from my tongue; if you were, I could only imagine the mortification in your eyes. The regret exposed on your forehead. The fright tethered to your lips.

So I left you, never to return until I was better. Until I had some answers.

That is why you never saw me leave. That is why I never saw you return.

* * *

The teacher came in to collect our work. "C---, I need your card." She told me.
"I'm not--"
"Please turn it in. You had plenty of time."
Defeated, I handed it in and walked out of the classroom, brimming with questions and regrets. I found myself walking by the routine forest trail I use to go home. A shortcut.

Suddenly, an impulsiveness to stand still paralyzed my body. Whatever finger I tried to move wouldn't even point. Whatever foot I attempted to kick wouldn't even tiptoe. My stomach then lit with a brewing flame within that could not be seen or extinguished.

I tried to run, and I kneeled.
I tried to holler, and I gagged.

Liquid streamed from my mouth onto the dirt path like a creek. I tried to cry and realized that my tears could not even comfort me with moisture--all my fluids were decanting the floor beneath me.

And inch by inch, I felt it crawl out. It grabbed my aged molars, first, then wriggled its way through my esophagus to have a good look at the outside. It grabbed my front teeth and stuck its nose suspiciously toward the floor, attempting to discern its whereabouts and safety. After deciding that everything was clear, I felt both its elbows touch the corners of my lips and its abdomen sliding down the apex of my tongue. Its legs made one firm kick out of my throat onto my bottom molars. Then it swiftly took a plunge onto the dirt and ran off to the trees--absolutely noiseless.