Monster Egg

I took myself to the hospital. Feeling sick. Pretty dizzy.

‘Well,’ the doctor said. ‘You’ve got an egg in your head.’

‘How?’ I asked.

She shrugged. ‘Monster.’

‘A monster put an egg in my head?’

‘Yeah, that’s what happened.’ She tapped a pen on her notepad. ‘These monsters, they mostly kill people in the night. Sometimes, at dawn.’

I touched the back of my head. ‘But, it didn’t kill me . . .’

The doctor’s bottom lip stuck out as she shook her head. ‘Nope. Just put an egg in your head.’

‘Why?’

The doctor ruminated. ‘Well, they probably can’t kill everybody they come into contact with. They do need hosts from time to time.’

I was hosting a horrific party in my head. ‘What’s gonna happen to me?’

‘When?’

‘When it hatches.’

‘Oh! The egg! Right. Well . . .’ She stared through me. Taptaptap on the notepad. ‘It’s certainly going to hatch! That’ll be something!’ The doctor laughed.

I nodded. I like to be polite. ‘But, what happens to me when it does?’

‘Hmm. Yes. Well . . . Unfortunately, when the egg does hatch, it’s going to be quite unpleasant for you.’

I closed my eyes. ‘Doctor. What’s gonna happen to me? Just lay it all out . . . please.’

Again, she laughed. ‘Well, yes, like I said. It will be quite unpleasant.’

Taptaptaptaptaptap.

The doctor went on. ‘When the monster hatches, it’ll claw its way out of the shell. The egg is in your brain, remember. So, at that time, you’ll probably have a stroke.’ She laughed. Paused. Continued. ‘Then, of course, it will want to find its way out of your head. So, it’ll bore downward through your brain matter until it reaches your esophagus.’

I shook my head. I spoke quietly to myself. ‘This can’t be happening.’

‘From there, the little devil will burst out of your mouth. Taking your tongue with it. Its first meal!’ The doctor couldn’t contain her deep guffaws. ‘Yikes!’

‘You’ve gotta help me,’ I pleaded. ‘Tell me. Help me. Please. What can I do?’

She stopped tapping her notepad. Started tapping her chin. ‘I could write you a prescription for ibuprofen . . . or give you a potassium cyanide pill.’

For a moment, I was silent. ‘Wouldn’t that pill kill me?’

‘Well, hopefully.’

Nothing – I said nothing.

‘Of course, I could give you the painkillers and they could possibly, marginally help you with the agony. Which, by the by, is only weeks away. And it will be great agony . . .’

Still, I said not a word.

‘Or. I give you one, simple pill. And you die –‘ she pointed at my head, ‘it dies, and we are all happy because there isn’t an extra little beastie running around, planting eggs in all the rest of our heads!’

Taptaptaptaptap on the notepad again.

‘And surely, you don’t want to release something like that into the world?’ The doctor stared. ‘You’re not a monster.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘Only in here.’

I tapped my head.

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