"Oh gross," Terrence said.
I quickly went into the kitchen and grabbed a roll of paper towels. I tossed the roll at Terrence.
"Can you please get the blood on the carpet?" I said as I leaned against the sink.
"You're pretty nervous, aren't you?" Terrence said as he unwound the roll. "They only start bleeding when you get nervous."
"No. Yes," I said, watching blood pitter patter onto the kitchen linoleum.
I glanced up at the eyeballs floating around me. Sixteen eyeballs of various sizes, from soccer-ball sized Big Blue to the two Black Beady's. They could rotate, focus, unfocus, and go up and down. But unless I was backed up against a wall, they never changed their positioning. I had never touched one of them - they were always positioned just out of arms reach.
Anyone else could touch them, though.
Right on cue, Mitten the Kitten rocketed into the kitchen and leapt onto the ne