Read the opening of the chapter that relays the events of my first flare up.

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Misery crept in over the past week, and I lacked the energy to concern myself with my appearance. At fifteen, I only put effort in on the weekend, another reason to be grateful I attended Regina Dominican, an all-girls high school. On October 18, 2015, an ache accompanied my sadness. It began in the back of my right knee and continued to throw me off balance, mentally and physically. The throbbing spread, until it encompassed the entire joint. I hadn’t told anyone, including my parents. I ignored it. I preferred to stay in my comfort zone and exude the happiness and enthusiasm that others expected of me, Merry Melissa.

I longed to stand, touch my toes, and stretch my back—if I could, I’d shake the pain out. Instead, I was stuck in sophomore English.

As a distraction, I turned my attention to Shakespeare and searched out examples of literary terminology in Romeo and Juliet,

“’A plague o’ both your houses.’ Mercutio, Act 3, Scene 1, Line 94 is an example of foreshadowing, Mrs. Allworth.” I volunteered as I swung my right leg, forward and back. I raised my voice, fearing my classmates heard the snaps as I worked to relieve the pain in my knee.

Unlike cracking knuckles, these pops sent a shock from knee to ankle. Sometimes, when I stopped the movement for too long, my knee stuck, frozen in position.

The first two days, I experienced odd sensations, but I brushed it off and attributed it to sleeping in an awkward position. Then, I forced myself to fall asleep flat on my back, arms at my side. Two nights of that, and the deep throbbing within increased. My next tactic was to take the last two of the six Tylenol I assigned myself. I went to bed early and woke to feel tolerable. As the days wore on I continued to suffer and the pain ratcheted higher. Since I kept this mysterious situation from everyone, fear hovered near, and occasionally grabbed hold and settled in my chest.

“Because...”Mrs. Allworth prompted.

“Well, Romeo and Juliet die. So, that’s the plague. And they are from two warring families, ‘both’ houses,” I added.

At fifteen, I knew if I volunteered an answer, a thorough answer, my teacher wouldn’t call on me later, and I could kind of check out, at least for a bit.

“Good job, Melissa. Anyone else?”

Days later, the weekend arrived and so did Halloween. Every sensation I’d experienced had intensified, but there was no way I’d miss our night out. My friends and I planned to wander our Chicago neighborhood, Rogers Park. A classmate traded her suburban life for one night in the city and arranged to sleep at my house. The evening started with dinner, before we headed off to our usual haunts to find our guy friends.

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