A blank sheet of paper was on my desk. I took hold of the pen once more, desperately writing anything I could think of. But no matter what I wrote, nothing stayed on paper. It looked as if I hadn't written anything in the first place as the words tore themselves from my notebook and flew above me.

I stared at it long and hard in hopes of my words somehow magically appearing on it just as quickly as they had ripped themselves off. Alas, nothing happened. I leaned back in my chair and gazed at my words in awe and slight fear as they rose above me. Feeling defeated and confused, I muttered, "what exactly are you?"

"Ziv?" Abigail's voice interrupted my thoughts. My violet-gray eyes turned to her brown ones with curiosity.

"Oh, yes?" Lost in my thoughts, I had almost forgotten that I was in class.

"Are you still sick? You don't look so good." She appeared to be worried when she spoke to me, pushing her red hair behind her ears.

I shook my head. "I'm fine, don't worry. I was just tired Friday, that's all." She didn't need to worry.

"Yeah, but if you need anything, I'll be right here okay?" She smiled in relief.

I let my platinum blonde hair cover my face when I bobbed my head in response. "Alright. I'll keep that in mind." It was expected of her to be worried if her friend suddenly passed out in Math class yesterday.

She chuckled before turning back to her notebook. I looked at my own with rising unease. What if I can never write again? No, I can't let that happen. Just the mere thought of that made my body shiver in grief.

Again I wrote the notes on the board down. Again they vanished from the paper, gracefully tearing themselves from it before flying above me to gather with my other words.

I wrote down another line of notes that we were to discuss later that week and hastily shut the book in hopes of trapping my words between the pages. Still the writing escaped, with one of the words slipping past my lips and down my throat before I could fathom the action. I gasped in horror as the overflowing amount of knowledge of the words seeped into my mind.

I was confused and scared, yet intrigued. All of the various sounds murmured by people to communicate with one another interested me now more than ever. I never knew that sounds like the ones spoken in India or Russia even existed! It was so... so lovely. I closed my eyes, letting myself embrace the newly found imagery and sounds of the words that have disintegrated and survived throughout time. My body was frozen in amazement.

Various translations of 'tic' from language that I had briefly studied over time had instantly flooded my thoughts. How could I have been so ignorant to the beauty of communication?! Was this... was this what words tasted like?

But then, before I could completely indulge in my notes Abigail called my name. I was immediately taken from my evanescent revelation and back to reality, with the flash of images disappearing. I took deep breaths and glanced at Abigail. "Yes?"

"Are you sure you're okay? I thought you were sleeping for a sec."

"No, no, nothing like that. I was just... thinking about my notes."

She looked at my notebook with suspicion, her waves of auburn hair lightly brushing against her olive skin as she shook her head. "But you haven't written anything."

Oh yeah, only I could see it. I guess that meant no one will see my work ever again. No one can check my homework answers. My, that's a saddening thought. I turned the paper to look at it with my own eyes. Though my notes were visible, they came off soon after.

I gave a bitter smile. "Oh, you're right. I guess I'm a little out of it today."

"Hmm, hopefully you feel better soon!"

What was going to become of me? I didn't understand. Before yesterday, this never happened. As much as I had wanted to believe that it was a dream or hallucination, that didn't seem to be the case. That short moment of overwhelming knowledge that took over my thoughts, that was definitely real. I could still taste the sweet plethora of information on my tongue as it corrupted my senses. It was sinfully delicious.

It felt as if I was eating the tree of forbidden knowledge. The appeal of taboo that coaxed Adam into eating the apple... that very snake was pestering me as well, in a location that couldn't be seen through the naked eye. It rested within me, coiling around my consciousness as it beckoned me over to my burrowed desires.

I gazed up once more, greedily wondering what my other words would taste before gathering my things and heading for the next class along with the other students. Throwing away my normal life in exchange for unlimited knowledge... that sounded impossible, blasphemous, terrifying and yet so mouthwatering.

The day went by at a quick pace, with my time being spent observing my words and their behavior. It was hard to stay focused on what I was supposed to be learning in class, as I had already studied it on my own before. So I spent my time leisurely taking notes just to see what my written words would do next.

As I made my way home, I wondered if what happened yesterday was real. My eyes never deceived me, that I knew. Even so, it just sounded unnatural, like something that came out of a fiction novel. Actually, I'd never heard of something as peculiar in any of the books that I had read. If this was a case of dyslexia, I would've believed it.

But that didn't say why no one else could see my handwriting. Luckily the homework that I had written two days prior to that incident was unaffected and was turned in to my teachers without any problems.

I walked into the house and was welcomed by the smell of vanilla frosting. Mm, cake. Hopefully my stomach wouldn't hurt like it did yesterday at dinner.

"Mom? Dad? I'm home!" I took my shoes and outwear off at the door before heading to the kitchen. As expected, the velvet cake that we had made last week stood on the silver cake stand under a glass cover. I was tempted to take a slice, but instead decided to exit the kitchen before I gave in to my sweet tooth.

I peeked in their room upstairs to find Mom laying on the bed watching what sounded like Sanford and Son on television. "Oh, hi Ziv! Sorry, I didn't hear you come in! How was school? Do you still feel sick?"

"Hi Mom. It was okay, and no, I feel fine." Minus the whole eating-every-word-I-write thing. "Where's Dad?" I searched the room for any sign of him.

"Oh, he went to the store to get some groceries. He actually just left, but should be back soon."

"Oh, okay. Well, I'm going to go in my room and do homework."

"Aww, such a great kid. Love you! Dinner'll be ready in a little bit!" Would she love me once she knew of my circumstances, though?

I smiled before backing out the room and heading down the hall. "Okay, love you too," I said in response when my stomach grumbled.

Once entering my room, I threw my bag onto the bed and headed for my computer. I could do homework later. Then again, I couldn't really do homework if no one but me could see my handwriting. Or at least, I wouldn't get graded for it. This was going to be troublesome.

I turned on my laptop and opened up Google. At first I didn't know what to start with, so I just searched aimlessly, not sure if I should search up ancient languages or black magic incantations. I'll admit, it would be pretty cool if it turned out that I was a witch, but that didn't seem to be the case here. Witches weren't supposed to eat their own words.

Maybe if I was lucky, someone else would have the same problem. But no matter how many articles and blogs I clicked on, none gave me what I was looking for. I spent the next two hours doing the exact same thing over and over again but with different phrases, each one giving the same result as the one before; nothing.

I sighed, looking up at my words. "This is harder than I expected." Giving up on using the internet to solve my problem, I logged out and shut the laptop off. It seemed like I wouldn't find anything this way.

My chair squeaked under my weight when I sat up to stretch. I used my feet to roll to the bed, not wanting to stand, and took my homework out. If I couldn't write, then I would just have to read. Knowledge is power, right? What I memorize will have to make up for what I can't give.

I laid my notebooks on my desk, took a pencil from a nearby pencil case and did my Math homework. I always felt calm when doing math. It was the one thing that didn't require emotional attachment in my life. Which made it a perfect way for me to relax.

I couldn't just panic all of the time over something that I had no control over. It was just a waste of time. Logic told me to not think about it and just adapt to change, but I didn't want to. I just wanted to be normal. What did I do to deserve this? Why was this happening to me?

I was completely satisfied with learning from books and school. I didn't need to know the mysteries of the world every time I ate. If I knew everything, then what would be the point of learning?

Despite my inner turmoil, my heart leaped in excitement when my math equations rose from my notebook. There was something about this that entranced me. My pulse quickened as the numbers and symbols grew closer to me. My moist lips parted in anticipation when the words conflated before disappearing into my inviting mouth.

Feeling oddly content, I picked up an encyclopedia and tucked myself under the covers, ready to dive into the vast world or insects. I was comfortable being blanketed with warmth whilst reading. It was nice to sometimes just double check to see if I missed anything important. The next hour or so was spent silently rereading one of the many enjoyable research books from my collection.

Suddenly, a curt knock on my door snapped me from my concentration. "Come in," I muttered while keeping my eyes on the page.

When the door creaked open, I was greeted by the appearance of my father. He smelled of the cold winter breeze and cinnamon when he came in with his coat still hanging over his shoulders. "Your mother called. She wants her daughter back."

I smirked, holding up the encyclopedia I was reading. "Sorry, I got kind of distracted."

"Oh, what'cha got this time? Birds? Animals? Food?"

"Insects. I wanted to try and see if I forgot any."

He scratched his head. "Man, you're just like your Mother when she was in college. She read a fuc- I mean, a lot of books." Smooth.

I chuckled at his slip up. Somehow, he always was able to make me feel lighter. His bright and calm personality was the complete opposite of my Mom's calculating gaze that she gave practically everything. Must've been why they fell for each other. 'Opposites attract' and all.

"Anyways, c'mon. Time for dinner. We're having steak and mashed potatoes."

"No greens?" I asked, pushing myself off of the bed.

"I forgot to buy the string beans, and Melia ate all of the leftover corn last night." Oh, man. I actually liked eating vegetables.

I smiled. "That's okay. Don't worry."

Dad glanced back at me as I trailed behind him with raised eyebrows. "...Are you sure you're 13? Most 13 year olds aren't as polite as you've grown up to be."

"Probably got that from Mom."

"Mhm. You got a lot of things from her, haha. It's kinda funny."

Tilting my head, I inquired, "How so?"

"Just a figure of speech darling." He said before ruffling my hair and heading down the brightly lit hallway that led to the rest of the various color-schemed rooms that they decorated after moving in years before I was born. "Mel, I brought Ziv down."

Mom's voice came from the kitchen, followed by the clanging of pots and pans. "Great. Your plates are in the living room."

"What about you?"

"Baby, you know that I always set you two straight before I make my plate."

"But you're probably tired... here, let me do it for you. Actually, you can have my plate."

"David, you know that I can't do that."

Deciding not to listen to anymore of their lover's quarrel, I walked past the kitchen and straight to the dining room where our food was located and sat on the leather couch that faced the one that had the least portions. The smell greatly rose my spirits, and any worry that was on my mind vanished. Mmm, steak.

"Smells good doesn't it?" Dad asked when Mom and him had entered the room after settling their debate.

I nodded distractedly while swallowing some potatoes. "Food always smells good."

They chuckled and sat down across from me. The sounds of their forks scraping the plates were the only things I could hear until Dad spoke up.

"So, Ziv. Were you alright today? You didn't feel dizzy or anything?"

I looked down at my food. It seemed foolish to tell them the truth. Neither of them would take me seriously. Eating words? Ha, preposterous. "I'm okay. I guess I was just tired Friday," I answered after swallowing down some water to wash down the food that I ate.

"Uh huh. Stayed up late reading again?"

I averted my eyes in guilt. But I couldn't let my resolve waver. I would tell them the real reason when I had more of an understanding. "Yeah. Those bigleaf hydrangea really interested me. I apologize."

He waved his hands at me as if it was trivial. "Don't. We just want you to be healthy and happy." What was this, a Cheerios commercial?

A smiled tugged at my lips, knowing that he probably said that because he figured that I would get the reference. "I know."

Mom pushed her nearly white hair over her shoulder and laughed. "Both of you are great kids."

"Hey! I'm only 34!" A light brush of pink tinted his cheeks when he kissed Mom's cheek despite her teasing. She giggled, playfully pushing him away. I was experiencing embarrassment.

I chuckled at their interactions and set my fork down onto my empty plate. "I'm finished." I didn't want to see what went on between them when I wasn't home.

They stopped laughing, Mom standing to take our empty plates. "Alright, sorry about that. Want some cake?"

My ears perked up at her words. "Yes, absolutely!"

"I'll bring your slice to you, then. Don't take more than you can eat, though. We don't want you getting sick again."

"Okay!" I lightly bounced in my seat in excitement when Dad smiled.

"You always did love sweets."

"Mhm."

Mom returned with three slices of cake when Dad noticed her unbalancement and stood to help. She thanked him and smiled in relief. He set one of the plates along with a fork in front of me. I looked at my stomach and grimaced when I suddenly felt a sharp pain. I decided to ignore it, opting to eat small pieces instead.

"What's wrong? You usually love eating velvet cake." Dad questioned in disbelief as I mindlessly pushed my dessert around on the plate with a fork.

I averted my eyes from his hazel ones, pushing my platinum hair behind my ears. "I'm just not hungry right now." I wasn't hungry when I ate dinner either. Once again, the only time I was starving was before I ate my words. I wonder what that meant.

So as to not make my parents worried, I stuffed the slice of sweetness down my throat before drinking a glass of milk. Yet for some reason, it didn't feel like it was in my stomach. Instead, it was as if I hadn't ate anything at all.