PATIENT ZERO -The lone survivor
My dad was rushing toward me to stop the bleeding, his face a mask of paternal panic.
"Stop!" I yelled at him, holding my bleeding hand up. "Just watch!"
He stopped, inches from me, mesmerized by the blood.
And then it began.
The itching started first, deep in the wound. The heavy flow of blood suddenly slowed, then stopped entirely, as if a valve had been shut off. The dark red liquid on my finger seemed to bubble and recede back into the cut.