Seriously?

Now, if the girls will run away from me after seeing the mark on my wrist (like I was a monster or something), I'm going to get rid of my hand very soon.

The peculiar mark was irritating me now. I mean, first, that stranger, this girl, does this mark make me look like Osama Bin Laden? I hope not.

I looked at my watch, and it was already 8 a.m., and so, time to start my day! I attended my first class, which was Pre-Calculus, followed by Prep Maths and the worst subject of all time, Advanced Placement Chemistry. I have no hard feelings for the subject but only for Mrs Hannigan (Mrs. AK47).

“Ethan! You are next,” yelled Mrs Hannigan. “Show us your video project on Sodium metal powder reactions.”

“I’m sorry, Miss,” I replied. “ But I haven’t finished it yet.”

“What!” (And Mrs AK47 is back.) “Have you lost your mind?!!”

“No, Mrs AK--, I mean, no Mrs Hannigan,” I replied. “I haven’t lost my mind. Half of it just wandered off, and the other half went looking for it.”

Hopefully, this was enough to get me out of the class.

After all this, I went to the library to grab some essential books. Then I attended the rest of my classes and left school at around 4 p.m.

On my way back, I had already planned to meet my pal, Ian. We knew each other since 8th grade, and you won't believe what all I know about him, from his deep dark secrets to the fact that he likes to wear purple socks on Friday (which is weird, actually). Ian's house was very close to our school, and within 4 minutes, I was at his place.

“Hey!” I greeted him. “You didn’t come to school today. Is everything all right?”

“Oh Yeah!” he said with a grin. “I was busy with some of my Chemistry assignments. Didn’t you check your Instagram? I messag—Whoa! What’s that on your wrist? Is that a tattoo cause? If it is, you got to show me the place where you got that!

“It isn’t a tattoo,” I replied. “I wish it was.”

“Wait….,” he said. “What do you mean you wish it was? And if it isn’t a tattoo, then what on earth is it, man?

“I, too, don’t know!” I replied frustratingly. “This thing came on yesterday morning, and you won’t believe me if I told you all the weird things happening with me since then!”

“Look…. You are starting to freak me out!” he cried. “If this is one of your awful pranks, then cut the shit!”

“Oh, hell no!” I exclaimed. “You think I am kidding?”

“Then—what is it?” he asked.

The look on my face told it all. After knowing everything about the damn mark, Ian thought I was either crazy or on drugs. He told me to see a doctor, but I knew this wasn’t a disease. It was something much worse.