What Was in the Bed - Carol Arnold

There was nothing she could see, no flea shit or dead bug bodies, just the usual white sheets. But something was in there, she knew it. How else was she getting those bites, now raw and red from her incessant scratching? She knew she wasn’t supposed to scratch, that the bites could become infected, but she couldn’t help it. It was an itch like no other, even the one when she first met Bryon and her skin felt like it could barely contain the near-erupting volcano of her body, but she knew how that had turned out. That bite had become infected, a huge pus filled crater of a wound that even now, two years later, had refused to heal.

So here she was off on a wild adventure in an attempt to find a cure for that itch. She had heard about Shaman Xoctl, his lodge in Iquitos that catered to first world customers, from someone she had met at Whole Foods.

“He’s got eyes that will make you see the beginning of time,” the woman had said, her hair done up with feathers, her dress a maze of geometry. “You almost won’t need the drug, but don’t let that fool you. Take the drug. You won’t believe it.”

“What does it do?” Lynne had asked.

“What does it do? There aren’t words. Believe me, it will change your life forever.”

That’s what she needed, her life changed forever. But so far, all that had changed was her back where welts the size of quarters glared at her from a faded mirror. She wanted to crawl back into bed, pull the sheets over her head, but there was something in there, she knew it, and it was only a matter of time before it ate her alive.