Sometimes, my father was the only one that kept me from completely losing my mind. Well, I've done that, anyway. I'm crazy, but the best people are.

I start to stand, the glass chips in my open, cupped hands. But I forget about the water on the ground, and, before I know it, I have quite literally hit the deck, with a brilliant, shining spear of glass embedded in my palm like an obelisk. Dark blood is spurting out once again, but now it's in a perfect rhythm with my heartbeat. Boom. Another jet of thick liquid rushes out of the torn, jagged skin around the deformed shape of the shard. Boom. Boom. Boom. More and more oozes out, and it's making me nauseous.

"Manny!" Nick quickly comes to my side that's not covered in glass, kneeling next to me and placing his hands across my spine. "Are you okay? What happened? Is it terminal? Manny? Say something! Oh, God, are you dead?"

No. I'm obviously not dead. I'm just paralyzed, frozen with my eyes staring at the blood pumping from my open hand. I try to move my fingers, but they feel numb. Though I know that the sensation of numbness is only my own sense of abstract paranoia, I cannot dispel it. Science has taught me that the brain can do very strange things to the body, and that's definitely happening. I can't feel my arm at all, now. Awesome.

Nick starts shaking me, and I squeeze my eyelids together in detestable pain.

"You can stop that, you know. I'm clearly not dying, Nicholas, and you needn't treat me as such. Thank you."

He pauses, and removes his hands from my person. "Sorry. But I'm happy you're not dead."