I opened the door to the apartment. I was so unsettled
that I immediately started pacing back and forth in the living room. I hugged
myself with fear: I had never felt like such a kid before, uncertain and
afraid. Maybe I feel like a kid because I am a kid, I thought to
myself, a little shaken. I wasn't old enough to handle any of this on my own.
But as went back and forth, I started thinking that there had
to be some solution out there. Perhaps something helpful from my previous
life of science, something I could pull out to my advantage. I gripped the back
of a chair and forced myself to stand still. Think rationally. Concentrate.
Slowly, a few ideas trickled into my head. It was odd,
trying to access an older part of myself, a bit like trying to recall a very
old memory. But I had some stuff in my room that could maybe help, some
science-y shit. I ran to my bedroom and opened the drawer where I kept my stash
of equipment, and then pouted in annoyance when I saw it was just a collection of
fucking fashion magazines.