The aquarium is a large building with multiple floors and all types of different exhibits. Tanks of live fish and sea creatures are the predominant exhibits, but there are also rooms full of artwork, boat models, play rooms for small children, and even a room designated for the history of aquatic life in the basement. At this early morning hour the aquarium is largely empty save for the kids and teachers on this particular field trip.

Whit stares at the models of the prehistoric fish, some hanging from the ceiling, others in glass cases, and a couple larger ones coming out of the walls with metal bars wrapped around the features to keep people from touching them. Whit is attempting to read the plaque that went along with one of the models and is kinda failing.

Laurel had gone to use the restroom and left Whit on his own. Whit had for the last twenty minutes been feeling feverish and dizzy, but had decided to not inform Laurel of the development and is just hoping it passes eventually. Rather than passing though it seems to be steadily getting worse. Whit’s palms feel sweaty and shaky, his knees weak, and the large hoodie he’d put on feels suffocating. The words on the plaque insist that they need to move around on him every time he tries to focus on any one of them and Whit keeps rubbing his eyes over and over again in an attempt to get them to start working again, but they just don’t.

“Hey, you’re not a senior?” The teacher for ap biology comes up behind Whit. Whit turns to look at him, but finds out what a horrible idea that is afterwards as the room in consequence begins to spin around him.

Whit smirks, “Yep.” and then collapses against the burly old man.

~

Whit has always had the sinking suspicion that he is going to die in a hospital and so as a principle tries not to go into them. Well, the teachers and staff at the aquarium had had other ideas and so now he sat on an examination chair in an examination room in a hospital staring into the depths of the mole on Dr. Hendricks’s face. It is right next to his eyeball and Whit wonders if the man could actually see it in his peripheral vision. The room is fairly large with all types of gizmos sitting out on the counter and various posters related to health hanging on the wall.

“You should know that we’ve already taken a sample of your blood and are doing a drug screening on it, but this will go much easier if you just tell us if you were taking anything.”

Whit nods, but instead of giving him a definitive answer asks: “Can you see your mole in the corner of your eye?”

The doctor sighs, “Yes, but I’m asking you-”

“I don’t do drugs.”

The doctor smiles, “That’s good. Okay, and have you eaten anything lately that would make you sick?”

“Hmm, it was probably the grasshopper.”

“You ate a grasshopper?”

“No, a grasshopper ate the flower.”

Doctor Hendricks stares at Whit trying to figure out what on earth he’s talking about, “Maybe if you started from the beginning…”

“There was a flower in the creek, Xylo said the rains probs washed it down there, but I think it just grew there, but then I moved the flower from the creek to the bank and a grasshopper came and ate it.”

The doctor frowns, “I think I need you to explain what your story has to do with your fainting spell.”

“Because I am the flower.” Whit says matter of factly.

“Right… so are you sure you haven’t taken any types of drugs?”

“And I killed the grasshopper.” Whit smiles.