It was on my third week there that things turned for the worst; and I'd lose the only person I was growing close to. The thing is, ever since I arrived, no one died. People started talking about me, like I was some heaven-sent omen. It was good that I was around. People were happier. Grateful. There were times when I'd be walking down the street, walking through a village, and people would throw flowers at my feet. Many people gave me balut, and yes, I had to eat them right then and there. Fake smile and all. Sharon approved. And if you don't know what balut is, I'll tell ya. It's an egg with a chicken fetus inside. And you eat it.
So night falls, 10 strikes, and all the windows close again.
I asked grandma and grandpa about Sharon, but no one knew where she was. There was a thump upstairs, in her room, so I went up and knocked on her door. It was unlocked...I opened it.
It was the first time I saw Sharon's room. There were computer parts everywhere. It was like a huge junk pile. But it was the smell that made my belly turn sour. It was that DEAD CAT smell. Again. Back AGAIN. Memories of my stay in that dark room all came running back, breaking my brain. I had to throw up, but my legs wouldn't listen and turn around. They walked to the bed...to the gurgling sounds coming from between the bed and the window. I called for Sharon.
Her head popped up. SHOCKED. Wide-eyed. She didn't recognize me at all. Sharon looked so old....
She rolled onto the bed.
I remember I was saying, “Grandma...grandma....” But I could only whisper.
Sharon was on her back. Her breaths came in and out in little, rapid pfft-pfft's.
She clawed at her belly. She ripped her shirt off and dug INTO her belly, into her guts. She was yanking on her intestines, pulling them out like ropes. And yet, no blood. Water-ish liquid, but not a spot of blood.
I screamed out for help, and Sharon's legs ran away from her. They went into the closet and knocked over boxes. Sharon whipped her wet head at me and hissed. Her eyes were hungry. She hopped off the bed with her hands and came after me. I kicked her in the face and ran out and closed the door, pressing my back against it. Grandpa ran up to me with a knife.
“I knew this day would come.” He pushed me aside.
Sharon's head rammed straight through the door. I was reminded of that scene from The Shining. Sharon started to spit at us in a crazy way.
“I'll eat you out!” she went. “Please?!”
Grandpa shoved the knife in her eye, and I shoved my face into grandma's chest. Grandpa kicked the door open and grabbed Sharon's head and drove it into a computer that was left on. Sharon fried on impact. The place begun to stink.
The next morning, everyone in town is throwing roses and exotic meats at me. My grandpa wanted none of the attention. He was shy. We all made our way to the woods where a huge fire was waiting. Sharon's torso and legs were wrapped in white sheets. The wind picked up and the sheet over her head went away. She was young again. Face perfect. Not burnt. Her eyes were closed, and she looked peaceful. Beautiful. Her body parts...they were thrown into the fire. There were two groups of people at the burning: my family, and everyone else.