The heat in my left arm suddenly had a shape.
I rolled up my sleeve, slow. My phone screen lit it up: a tiny red dot on the inside of my arm, ringed with white.
A needle mark.
Not sleep paralysis.
Not too much cold medicine.
Someone stuck a needle in my arm while I slept.
I grabbed my phone. The cold light hurt my eyes. I put the cap back on the carpet and shot it wide, then close. When the lens zoomed in, the liquid left inside caught a little white.
Then the mark on my arm. My hands were shaking. The first shot came out blurred. I held my breath and took another.
The cloud backup icon spun. Still spinning. I stared at it like it was a thread about to snap.
Downstairs, the TV got quieter.
Someone turned the volume down.
I wrapped the cap in a tissue and shoved it in my robe pocket. The icon still wasn’t a checkmark. I waited half a second more. It stopped.
