Jasmine

THE SHOCK of betrayal guts me even though I’m starting to believe Tom couldn’t control himself. I don’t think he meant to hurt me.

I run for the bathroom and pull off my t-shirt to inspect the wounds. There are four puncture wounds, a half-inch deep.

Could’ve been worse. No major arteries. Not too much blood loss. I definitely feel woozy though.

I turn and heave into the toilet. The room spins. Oh God. Am I turning into a werewolf?

Will I start biting people at the full moon, too?

I stagger to the bedroom and fall down on the bed. My eyelids are heavy— too heavy to keep open. It’s like I’ve had a few too many drinks and I’m passing out still liquored up.

Yep, passing out…