Fight or Flight:
Dust slid off the exam table and picked up his jacket. He winced when the sleeve caught on the strip of taped-down cotton covering the spot where the lab technician had drawn his blood. He averted his eyes away from the vials in the plastic tray.
Initially, he had been nervous about having his blood drawn. He expected to have the same craving for blood that he had before. Instead, he found that he was repulsed by the coppery smell. Dust was now even more confused by what was going on inside of him.
“How are you feeling?” Dr. Lucy Parson asked with a compassionate smile.
Dust looked at the woman and returned her smile with a weak one of his own. It had been hours since he had eaten anything and he was nauseated and feeling rather shaky. If he didn’t get something to eat
