Isabella sat down on a rotting log along the creek side, clutching a small white pill in her tight fist. She was close enough to the water that she could lower her feet, shoes off, and skim her toes along the fresh coolness of the creek. If she pulled her feet up under her and waited long enough, she would be able to see the tadpoles swimming in ribbon-like patterns, skittering over the clay bottom to the skin of the surface and back again.

Isabella would often sit in that very spot at least three times a week. Sometimes she saw this place as her escape, other times it was her prison. If only she could get away from that sinking feeling inside that everything in her life was wrong, so incredibly wrong. Getting away from the world, she thought, would help her forget that feeling of wrongness; but being there , on that log, only brought the thoughts out in their horrific fullness.

She remembered herself at about that time of year, the year before, when the tadpoles were in their grotesque metamorphic state of half-fish, half-frog. She had felt so sick, more so than she was now. She never thought to tell anyone, she didn't need anyone ' s worry or pity or whatever it was that people felt.

Despite her best efforts, it became known. Isabella was ill. And when someone is ill, and it is known, she would need to see a doctor. Isabella tried to prepare herself for the worst, but not even the best preparation could have prepared her for what was to come.

“ I ' m afraid the results are not hopeful. ” The doctor finally told her as she sat opposite him in a rather small, white, sterile office. “ You have been clinically diagnosed with Evil . ” Isabella looked on at him blankly as though he had spoken in a foreign language. “ I know this may come as a shock to you, but I am 100% certain of the diagnosis. In fact, many people these days are living not even knowing that this disease exists, let alone inside themselves. ” Isabella was quiet and let the doctor continue with his explanation.

“ Now, now Isabella, it ' s not that bad. Evil is a tricky one to spot and we are lucky to have caught it at such an early stage. It is a disease with such a slow onset that we often overlook it as a potential cause to ailments. But, in recent years, the diagnoses for Evil have increased tenfold. Literally, it ' s everywhere. Hypothetically, if you did not have it yourself, the chances that someone you know has it, is 1 in 3. ”

Isabella finally spoke, but in somewhat broken English. “ So, you are telling me, well you mean to say, me, I am evil? ” Her face was flushed and the doctor noticed the harshness to her tone. “ Heavens no! You have evil, quite curable really. It ' s sad to see that people have generalized the term to mean a person ' s overall disposition rather than its true characteristic as a disease within a person. ” She leaned forward as though she were going to whisper to the doctor but changed her mind and pressed back into her chair. “ How do I get rid of it? ”

“ Well, unfortunately it is a rather lengthy process, but you will be happy to hear that with the treatment available nowadays, we have had a nearly 80% success rate over a 40 year time period. ” Again, Isabella looked shocked. “ Nowadays? ” she asked puzzled. “ Comparatively, if you look at its progression over the course of history, we have had remarkable breakthroughs in the last 200 years. ” Unbelieving what she was hearing she had to ask for clarification.

“ You see, in the past, many people thought that evil could be dispelled by willing it away. By doing good deeds, being good people, yada yada yada … Others thought that by bleeding you could dispel the toxins of evil. Some even believed that by merely sneezing you could get rid of it. But they are all clearly wrong. ”

The doctor looked pleased with himself as he sat in his chair, forming a steeple with his hands as he spoke. “ Then tell me doctor, how do I get rid of it then? ” He let out a light chuckle before saying, “ That is the million dollar question my dear. Good of you to ask. ” With that, he rose and walked over to a locked medicine cabinet. He pulled out a small pill bottle and put it in her hand. “ Take one a day until you run out, then come back to me for a new prescription. ”

" But what is it?" she asked. “ A prescription for evil. ” Dissatisfied with his answer she jumped out of her seat. In an effort to press him further on the matter, she opened her mouth, but no words would come out. “ See! It's already starting to work. Now, if you ' ll excuse me, I have a long line-up of patients to diagnose. Good-day. ” He then pushed her out of the room and left her alone with her thoughts.

Those thoughts. Those nagging, horrible thoughts. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. But that was over a year ago now, and she reflected on that day as she sat on her rotting log by the creek. She looked down at the tadpoles, swimming ferociously beneath the skin of the water. One of the tadpoles, slightly bigger than the rest, hovered close to the surface as though it was looking at Isabella and waiting for her to speak to it. It had progressed quite a bit faster than the rest, had the first signs of feet, and its tail was shortened into more of a stump at its backside. She remembered saying out loud to the little tadpole “ I love you. ” She walked away thinking, “ What an odd creature to love, ” and then swallowed the little pill she clutched in the palm of her hand.