The Dead Story of a Birthmark

Chapter 2: An Answer to the Seizure

“What. The. Hell,” Flint berated me in the dorm room later that night. I watched from my personal desk as I saw him pacing from wall to wall, hands behind his head in disbelief. “What the hell was that, Marcus? First off you claim to have never had any medical issues before, yet proceed to have a TWELVE MINUTE seizure.” He finally sat in his chair, rocking back and forth. “THEN I find out that your dad is some big shot in the pharmaceutical world? He’s like a CFO or uhhh…”

“CMO,” I corrected. “He basically oversees hospital duties and keeps track of patients going in and out.”

“Still, he’s gotta be violating some sort of hospital policy, right!? Your dad can’t just walk up to the front desk and order you to leave! And you know what’s the craziest part about this?” Flint stopped moving around, and pointed at me with a concerned expression. “Even after all of that, Dr. Fisher is still issuing that essay homework!”

“Yeah, it’s bullshit,” I agreed, shaking my head in annoyance. “But right now it’s not my biggest concern.” Flint stopped in his tracks.

“Oh yeah, yeah!” He exclaimed, snapping his fingers by his head. “You said that there was– uh– you had a dream… or…”

“Nah not really.” I roughly drew my fingers through my hair, trying to recall the details. “It wasn’t really a dream. It was more like… a memory.”

“Like a vision?” he added. “Like when your life flashes behind your eyes in a near-death experience?”

“Kind of, but I’ve never seen or been through anything like the vision. Plus it felt more real than just a vision… almost as if I actually was in that moment!” I racked my head for more details. “So– from what I remember– there was some sort of office building, but unfinished–”

“So you were on a construction site?” Flint interrupted.

“No,” I impatiently replied. “It was like the building had empty spots– as if there were gaps in my memory. A lot of people were panicking and yelling, but I couldn’t see any of them; they were always behind me or in some other part of the floor. Anyways, it felt like we were all running away from something… and whatever that something was, it definitely wasn’t happy.” Flint stroked his goatee-less chin in consideration of what he just heard.

“Imma be honest Marc, this just sounds like some sort of glorified nightmare,” he concluded after a short moment of thought. “I mean, the doctor did say that you looked like you were in a deep sleep; when was the last time you got a good night’s sleep, perhaps you were just tired?” I waved my hand in dislike of the idea.

“No! No, it can’t be that. I’ve been having plenty of sleep before, and this dream– or memory– hasn’t happened even once!” Flint went silent after my interjection, and went over to his side of the room to sit down. As much as I hated the idea that whatever I saw didn’t actually happen, I couldn’t rule it out. There was something so real about the vision, so tangible, that I didn’t want to believe that it was all due to the lack of sleep. I leaned back in my chair feeling defeated.

“Well… there is some good news,” Flint declared after an awkward moment of silence. “Melissa did something very interesting.” This piqued my interest immediately, and I sat back up with more energy.

“Shut up, what?” I smiled gaily; I had forgotten about my short-lived conversation with Melissa. “How’d she react? Was she freaked out? What’d she do?” Flint laughed at my excitement and rubbed his hands together.

“Well, I didn’t see it happen immediately, but when you were on the ground, you weren’t quite shaking yet… it just looked like you passed out. I thought you were planning something, so I played around, acting all panicky.”

“That doesn’t sound so exciting…” I was disappointed.

“Nah, it gets better!” His energy was heightened. “To help you out, I suggested that maybe you needed CPR, and that it was essential to give mouth-to-mouth!” My face got hot in anticipation of what he was going to say next. “In a panic, she put her mouth on yours and started blowing!” He cackled out loud while holding his chest. I, too, cheered in some fashion.

“But wait, why’d you think that I was planning that?” I questioned, amongst my stifled cheers. “That seems like such a stupid middle school trick.”

“I– er– I knew it wasn’t a trick anymore when you began to shake,” Flint darkly stated. He settled down his cheery mood, assuming a more serious composure. “Your eyes rolled to the back of your head– and your chest was swiftly puffing in and out… Dr. Fisher thought you were joking, though. He was all like ‘Mr. Callaway, for the last time, please be quiet!’” Flint mocked in a strangely accurate impression. “It became clear that something was wrong, even Dr. Fisher’s face went white. Then… I don’t know… it was just the three of us watching you convulse. Melissa was the one to take action and make a teary-eyed 911 call, but me…” he put his head down in shame. “I didn’t do anything. I could’ve… but I didn’t.” Another awkward silence consequently followed; there was nothing more to add to the scary situation.

“Well, I’ll be able to tell everyone tomorrow,” I conclusively stated. “Even though we don’t have Anthropology tomorrow, I’m sure that I can run into Melissa sometime. When class actually comes by, Dr. Fisher will probably pretend that the whole situation never happened in the first place.” I could tell that Flint was still bothered by his inaction, so I went up to him and pat him on the shoulder. “Bro, it’s fine. Seriously, it is! You at least got me to kiss Melissa… kind of.”

“Yeah… I guess.” He still looked bothered, so I pulled him in for a hug and a pat on the back.

“It was a scary thing that happened, I get that, but now you know that I’m fine. Even the doctor said that there were literally zero health issues.” I pulled away from the hug and went over to turn on my game console, which was postulated against the wall on my desk. My monitor flickers on, allowing me to sign in to my account and click on the first game I see. “Now you’d be a really shitty friend if you let me shoot zombies by myself.” Understanding the offer, Flint relinquished his mellow mood, and delightedly turned on his own console.

“Alright Scarface, you’re on.”

After a long night of playing video games and much needed rest, I woke up the next day with a satisfying morning stretch. Motivated to start my day, I took a quick shower in the communal bathroom and hastily got on some clothes.

“Someone’s excited,” Flint mentioned, having just woken up. “You gonna talk to your little girlfriend?”

“Yep!” I ignored his teasing tone.

“Won’t it be awkward, though? I can’t imagine it’d be such a normal reaction after seeing someone who had a long ass seizure be able to stand on two feet the next day.”

“That’s true, but I have a good feeling about today. Something tells me that I’ll run into her, and maybe finally be able to ask her out.” Flint nodded in a doubtful manner. “Look, don’t you think she’d be relieved to find out that I’m fine? And plus, I’m an adult! If I want to do something with my life I need to start taking chances.”

“Hmmm okay. Well, good luck I guess,” he mumbled, turning over to go back to sleep.

“You got class too, dipshit,” I eagerly remarked. “We both have math in forty minutes.” He restlessly rolled around under his sheets, groaning obnoxiously.

“Ugh damn… you’re right.” He finally rolled out of bed, sheepishly putting on his pair of shoes. I looked at him, disgusted.

“You’re not at least going to change your clothes?” I chortled. “It’s bad enough that you haven’t taken a shower in a while.” Truth be told, the past few days his body odor has gotten funkier. It didn’t help any better that yesterday was occupied with my little episode, so he had no time to take care of his hygienic needs. In light of my comment, he lifted his arm and smelled his armpit.

“Damn, do I really smell that bad?” Flint asked. I nodded cheekily, plugging my nose while doing so. “No need to be an asshole about it… but okay... I’ll go take a shower; don’t wanna ruin your ‘special’ day,” he sarcastically remarked, taking off his shoes and switching to his shower pair. As he got the rest of his shower-related items situated, I pulled my backpack out from under my bed to check if it was all packed. Laptop, laptop charger, graph calculator, pens, pencils, everything was in place. A few minutes had passed until a fully clothed, slightly damp, Flint walked back into the room. After a couple more preparations, we finally left the dorm building with thirty minutes of free time before class began.

“Alright, here’s what’s gonna happen,” I pondered, writing an imaginative list in the air. “I’m going to run into Melissa one way or another. Once I do, I’m going to compliment how she looks, and talk about class. She’s gonna be surprised and impressed that I’m functioning just fine after that little incident. I’ll say it’s no big deal, she becomes attracted to me, then boom... we start dating.” Flint frowned at my plan.

“Look man, I don’t know if your epileptic episode knocked one of your screws outta your head, but you seem way too confident right now,” he criticized.

“Well about damn time, right?" I proudly stated. "Remember, you were the one that was complaining about me not taking any risks.” Flint shook his head and waved away at the idea.

“Sure I did… but it worries me that you’re not even a little irked about what happened– I’m surprised that not even your dad is questioning it!” He pointed out. “It’s just a little freaky that you guys aren’t losing your shit over this; if my dad found out I had a twelve minute seizure, I wouldn’t be going back to school for at least a month!” He began to trail behind me as I picked up my walking speed.

“The doctor wasn’t worried, then I’m not worried,” I reassured. “My dad knows a thing or two about medical treatment, if it was something detrimental he wouldn’t keep me in school.” We turned a corner around the theater and the general education building got into view. Flint continued to voice his concerns as we got closer to the classroom.

“Look, as your friend, I can’t simply look past this,” he virtuously promised. “After class ends I want to find something out.” He didn’t clarify any further about what he meant by ‘find something out’, but I didn’t indulge him by asking; all I was focused on was talking to Melissa today.

Class passed by swiftly. No homework was assigned and last week’s test grades were handed out, which is how I discovered that my grade bumped up from a low B to a low A. Even more fortunately, no one from my class asked about my medical incident yesterday. For once something bad had actually happened to me, yet no one was pitying me or treating me like a victim. Admittedly, no one knew about what happened, since there would be no need for them to know. Nevertheless it was refreshing to be treated like a human being.

“Damn Marcus!” Flint exclaimed as we walked out of the class. “One of the highest test scores? Maybe you were right about today being your day.” I shrugged and smiled slyly as we stepped outside of the building and was greeted with a cool, autumn breeze.

“Who knows, maybe everything’s just going right for me today,” I said, shielding my eyes from the shining Sun. Flint nodded, and began to walk away in a separate direction. “Woah woah! Where’re you going?” I called at him. "Aren't we gonna hang out a bit more?" He stopped halfway through a step and looked back.

“Don’t worry about me, go do your thang. Imma catch up on some stuff.” He resumed back to his lengthy stride.

“I still got a couple hours before my next class! We got time!” Flint gave a thumbs up without looking back, not disrupting his walk towards whatever mystery place he was heading towards. I sighed, but went back to walking towards the dorms. Flint’s been acting more drawn back today, and not being his usual goofy self. I guess yesterday is still on his mind, so I decided it would be good to let him do his own thing without my interference.

“Hey Marcus!” a female’s voice suddenly cried out from behind me. I turned and my heart jumped a bit, seeing that it was Melissa’s voice who called me. She waved at me happily while jogging up to me, away from a couple of her friends. They were all carrying handbags, presumably on their way to class. Melissa reached me and gave an unexpected one-armed hug. “You had me so worried! Why are you even at school?” My heart was just about jumping out of my throat, so I cleared my throat thoroughly.

“Hey! Uhh– yeah I’m fine.” I could barely formulate my sentences; all she was doing was staring up at me with her bright hazel eyes. There was something about her eyes that seemed so pure, so peaceful. I could feel my face turning a deep red. “Err- the doctor was able to write it out as some sort of– uh– temporary emergency.”

“Oh! That’s good to hear!” Her genuine smile further warmed my heart. For a moment I was almost lost in her eyes.

“Yeah, it’s a relief,” I replied, smiling back. Thinking of nothing else to add, I followed with, “Well I need to head back to my dorm now. I’ll see you at class tomorrow!”

“Yeah, for sure!” She nodded in agreement and ran back to her friends who were patiently waiting for her. I watched the group walk away from me in frustration. 'Dammit!' I thought aloud. 'You finally got that moment again and you blew it! I just basically blew her off to go do something else'. I cursed silently at myself and proceeded on my route to the dorm.

The rest of the day went by smoothly, with nothing else inherently important taking place. What was strange, though, is that I haven’t seen Flint ever since he walked off. I had called him three times and all three were led to voicemail. Even when I finished with my last class of the day, I returned to an empty dorm room. Understandably worried, and simultaneously not wanting to seem annoying, I sent a couple of texts, asking about his whereabouts and whether or not he was okay. After almost an hour of no reply, I made the wise choice to sleep off my worry.

“He’ll be here later tonight,” I assured myself, lying on my bed. “Even if he doesn’t get back, he’s his own man, whatever he does on his own time is none of my business.” I closed my eyes and slowed my worried breaths; maybe I'm too worried. There was barely a time in high school where we weren't hanging out or doing homework. Now that we're in college, though, I need to learn to not rely on him always being around. In some ways it feels as though I’m holding him and myself back, so whatever time he's spending with 'finding something out' shouldn't be worth worrying for. Slowly but surely, I had successfully released my stress and my head started to droop. It was hard to resist the warm comfort of my bed, so I allowed myself to succumb to my apparent exhaustion. Before I could enter the realm of the Sandman, however, a loud burst of the door jolted me awake. I looked up to see Flint standing in the way of the pushed open door, holding an old-looking leather book. He was dripping with sweat and had a hard time catching his breath.

“I spent— all day—,” he was able to mutter between breaths. He took another few seconds to calm down, finally closing the door and plopping onto his chair. “All day— at the library— and my class… and I think I have an answer.”

“Umm okay?” I was too dumbfounded and too tired to think of a good response. “Answer to what, exactly?” Flint wiped off some forehead sweat and grinned.

“Well… more so a theory, if anything.” He held up the leather book, revealing the title 'The History of Conspiracy'.

“Okay?” I was only getting further confused. “What is that supposed to mean?” He gave a dramatic pause before responding.

“That seizure yesterday? There was something off about it.” He put up a finger to stop me from interrupting. “You see, my uncle’s an epileptic, so I’ve seen frequent seizures before… but you,” he stated, pointing at me, “… your seizure was different. Not only was it super long, but you shook in a— a controlled manner.” I could tell that he was barely getting his thoughts straight. “It was as if you were handling the seizure, ya know? Which is pretty much impossible, of course.” He stopped talking, expecting me to have some sort of insight.

“I’m still not sure what you’re supposed to mean by that,” I repeated. I was far too unfocused to understand what he meant. “Are you saying that I have some unique ability to control seizures or something?”

“Maybe… sort of… but it took some brain power, and I think I have an idea of how you got that ‘seizure’.” He halted his speech and opened the book, flipping through it frantically. “You see, what if we ignore medical facts? What if we take a moment to address the unexpected?” He flipped back and forth through the book, until finding the page he was looking for. As he read, his eyes smoothly scanned the lines. “You mentioned doing something right before that freak-out, so I took it into actual consideration.” He conclusively slammed the book shut, and slowly lifted his pointer finger at my face, tracking my diagonal birthmark. “That mark, of yours… that’s the reason you had an episode.”