wrong with me. Half of the bats obeyed my order but the other half milled about haphazardly. It felt like half of my body was paralyzed. I turned back into naked boy and, unable to stay on my feet, crumbled to the floor. Something was wrong with my circulation. My joints felt so stiff I could barely move them. Bracing myself on the wall, I thought, ‘She wasn’t sad at all today, not for one minute.’ I had forgotten that I needed to stay near people that were grieving. It was my own fault for not paying attention to my body. Ever since I started spending more time with her, I had always had an abundant source of sadness. For more than 24 hours since yesterday, however, she had been towering with vengeance without the slightest hint of sadness, and I had not even noticed my blood was congealing as I transformed and soared above the night sky. The giant man, naked except for briefs, got up from the bed. I swallowed hard, completely cowed. I tried to stand up but only succeeded in slipping and falling hard on my bottom. There was something clumsy about the man’s behavior, as if he were still half asleep. His hair was cut short in an unflattering style. I scuffled away from him into a corner. Bits of glass from the window I had shattered stuck in my hands and buttocks. The man was startled. He gaped at the broken window, noticing me only after turning his head. The man could not have been more than nineteen, and there was something off about his face. I saw rather than heard that he had severely crossed eyes, and traces of dried saliva around his mouth. There was more dried spittle on his chest and stomach, and he smelled rank. He lumbered towards me, and I picked up one of the shards and slashed at his chest. He looked at the blood and started hopping around, complaining in unintelligible sounds, but did not come any closer to me. Instead he lumbered towards the door and knocked on it, calling for his mother, “Moo-uh, moo-uh.”
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