Once again, I got to school late. Oddly enough, it wasn't even to look nonchalant about education for my reputation's sake...I just had a fight with my alarm clock again. Although the small Greenwood High was as old as time itself and our funding was less than perfect, somehow we had a new statue outside. No doubt it was expensive. I found myself staring at the statue instead of going to class. Are you serious? We can't afford air conditioning..but then again, looks are more important than avoiding heat strokes, I thought bitterly. While walking into school, I tried to show off my male bravado even to the empty halls. I was the most popular boy amongst 300 students, freshman and senior alike and it was only my freshman year. Looking back on it, it probably stemmed from dating the most popular girl. She was popular amongst the senior boys, although I wasn't aware of that at the time.
My girlfriend, Samantha Hardy had delicately sat herself on my desk as I arrived. Her and my friend, Austin Jones were always crowded around my area talking before class, and as of right then, during class. The teacher was out of the room. "Hey babe," she prompted. When I didn't respond, she grew poutier and went on to say whatever she wanted to say, "You didn't call last night like you promised," she whined. Before I could come up with an excuse, Austin stuck out his arm and motioned toward Louise, "Come 'mere. Come on, beautiful, I'm lonellyyy over here with these two lovebirds." Louise got up and moved to the seat behind her to snub him. He let his arm fall angrily, "Stuck up--"
"Get off En's desk, please. Will you take a seat as well?" Ms. Holmes asked mechanically. This was a daily routine in my life.
"I haven't planned today's lesson yet, so hold out and be quiet for the next five minutes," she nearly mumbled.

Clasen Holmes was a mysterious person. Her room was the most bare in the whole school, and what is was decorated with didn't make sense; butterflies and a dog leash holder.
Samantha made her way up to Ms. Holmes desk and unbashedly got into her personal space. She put on her cute act, "So hey, I didn't exactly have time to do my homework last night. Do you think that it will affect my grade much? I can..make it up to you somehow..." Ms. Holmes didn't even bat an eye, nor did she look at her. "Quit being munipulative and go take your seat as told you," she said in mono-tone. Samantha slipped her a torn piece of paper as she started to walk off with her chin in the air, "Well, if you change your mind." Ms. Holmes gave the paper a quick glance and then glanced back at her computer screen. As she approached her seat, I leaned to her direction, "What did you give her?" She smirked and ignored me by talking to Austin. To this day, I don't know what Samantha wrote on that piece of paper.

Kora Whitely shuffled into the classroom, avoiding eye contact with any of us. She was weird. She never spoke. It was chilly outside, yet she was wearing a Christmas outfit with short sleeves and a skirt. Kora always had something weird going on with her hair, too. We had been pestering her the day we saw her, on the first day of freshman year. She was our constant target. "Is she serious right now? Are you special or something?" Samantha asked, loud enough for Kora to hear. "I really don't know, Samantha. I mean, it's not Christmas," I replied. Our English teacher looked over her shoulder, contemplating stepping in or not. She was at her Smart Board...which wasn't introduced to public schools until 2010, which I learned later. How she came about one, I'll probably never know.

Kora remained deathly silent as usual. "Would you like to explain why you dress like that, Korea?" I taunted casually. Austin and Samantha chuckled at my lame pun. Even I knew at the time, what I had said was stupid. Kora turned her head sheepishly and clutched her bag tighter, "Why would you make fun of your own country," she mumbled in a weird voice. I froze. My name didn't give away my nationality, and I never told anyone about my past or family situation, not even Samantha. And did she just speak?! It was the first time I heard her voice all year, and of course, what she said just had to be creepy. "What did you say? En! What did she say to you?!" Samantha yelled furiously. I was too stunned to reply. "You went and made some smart comment, didn't you?!" She was hovering over Kora threateningly by then. It had begun--the real bullying of Kora Whitely. Ms. Holmes calmly walked over to the situation.

She walked up to Samantha and stood very close to her. "I'll show you no boundaries, Miss Hardy. Do not speak to my students like that. I'm not going to tell you again--sit down." Neither one of them looked each other in the eye. The entire classroom was silent, watching them. None of us had even humanized teachers before, much less be intimidated by one. Samantha responded in a softer voice, so I'm fairly certain only Kora and I could hear, "Are you threatening me? You do know that I can report you, right?" Ms. Holmes was calm and responded just as quiet, "It seems you're doing all of the threatening today and what exactly would you report? That you bully and threaten one of my students daily and your teacher did something about it? Sit down." With that, Ms. Holmes turned and went to her board and my girlfriend returned to her seat. I thought that had meant she was defeated, which suprised me...but I was wrong. Samantha had begun her plotting.


Bullying Kora Whitely started getting physical. It became our hobby. By the middle of the school year, we had everyone turned against her. People would judge her in the halls and our other friends would push her into lockers, and we would too when we saw her.
One day we found her knocked out in the library in a grungy Victorian dress and her hair clipped back on both sides of her face. As soon as Austin put his arm around my Samantha, my temper spiraled out of control. I found my hand gripped on the back of the weird girl's chair and I yanked it out from under her as hard as I could. The next few days, I noticed her fidgeting in her chair from her injured tailbone. She went that entire year completely silent around us. My relationship with Samantha seemed to be getting more distant, but after every time I hurt Kora, she was all over me. A beast released from within me that year.

Our school had invested in large lockers to encourage studious students, but for us, it made it easier to stuff people in them. Near the end of the school year, I began getting more violent with the weird girl. Austin and Samantha seemed more attached to me than ever. Not to mention, I was gaining a lot of friends, mainly other jocks. The day that Kora was dressed like some cartoon nun was the first and last time I punched her. Twice actually. Once under her chin and the other across her face. Testosterone was pumping through me. The way she dressed and acted annoyed me. I took her silence as her way of saying that she was better than us. She didn't show up to school the next day and I was honestly worried I broke something. A little guilt sept in, only a little. I never actually hit Kora Whitely again. The guilt wasn't enough to make me stop physically bullying her, however.
Samantha and I partied a lot over the summer of our Sophomore year pretty much nonstop. It was a Saturday night with a few days left before summer ended when Samantha and I went to the biggest party we'd been to. It was packed even though it was held at a fairly small house. Many people Samantha wanted to impress were there. When I tried being affectionate with her, she snapped. I remember her words well and they confused me. "Keep your abusive hands off of me! You're a pathetic little boy and I don't want you anymore! I want a real man, En! In fact, I just want anyone but you, okay! Leave me alone and don't talk to me!" That was really the only real thing she'd ever said to me. She was the first girl to ever tell me she loved me, and her words felt like bricks on my heart. For the rest of the night, she didn't talk to me. I thought about leaving, but some people had heard her screams over the music, and I didn't want to look weak by letting her affect me.

I stayed in the kitchen with a group of jocks for a few hours and only walked out because I was about to head home. Shamefully, I looked for Samantha, but I didn't have to look very far. Her and Austin were making out on the couch. The bricks she gave me pushed my heart into my stomach and I felt sick. I risked seeming creepy and watched in shock. It didn't take long for my shock and sadness to evolve into a deep anger. Quite honestly, I don't remember much of that night. I must've been angry enough for it to cloud my memory. I left that night with my fists clenched. Because of Samantha's words, my fists stayed at my side. But, I realized that the beast I thought had been released was too numb to charge and destroy anything. My anger was too deep..I thought I was doing a good job at keeping it pent up..

Moving on from Samantha was hard for me. I even stopped bullying Kora Whitely for a few weeks after the breakup. I went to school, but it was like I wasn't there. I was disconnected. My home life had gotten worse too. Since my parents had decided to adopt yet another baby, I was put even further out of the picture. I couldn't remember the last time I had an actual conversation with them or an interaction that wasn't negative. Everything was blurry and unstable. I remember feeling numb and that feeling didn't go away until after high school. It only lessened to a functional level. About two weeks after we broke up, I sat at my desk, unable to pay attention to Ms. Holmes. Our school was small enough, many of the same students would get the same English teacher every year. There was only two or three, I think.

I noticed Ms. Holmes heading toward Kora's desk. Kora had gotten skinnier recently...she'd lost a lot of weight really quickly. She also didn't look as strange. I suspected something was up, but I didn't know what. "Kora, can I ask how you injured your nose?" Ms. Holmes asked quietly to her. Everyone else was talking, except me and Louise (who had just woken up). Ms. Holmes knew this, she intended the conversation to be between her and Kora. She didn't respond, of course. She just sat there, refusing to look at her. "Did anyone in this class do that to you?" The weird girl didn't say yes or no. She just sat there.


Ms. Holmes moved to the side of her desk and bent over to her. I was listening very carefully, so I could still hear her. "You can trust me. I will help you," she promised lowly. Kora Whitely wasn't responding, so she straightened herself up and stood by her desk a moment longer. And then she started heading toward mine. Great, I thought, just what I need..to be accused of something I didn't do. Here we go.
"Get out." Ms. Holmes demanded of me, giving me a stone face.
"I didn't do anything!" I exclaimed furiously. I was easy to set off.
Ms. Holmes opened the door and noded toward the hall, looking at me. "I didn't lay a hand on her weird little head!" I yelled. Reluctantly, I did as she said, but not without getting out of my chair nosily and stomping out of the class.


I started walking down the hall, planning on leaving school instead of going to the office as I thought she expected me to do. "Hold on a minute," Ms. Holmes said and shut the door behind her. She stood by her door, waiting for me to walk back. "Do you know who hurt Kora?" she asked. "I thought you were going to accuse me," I spat.
"Answer the question, En."
"No, I do not know who hurt the weird skinny girl."
I could tell I made her mad, but she stayed calm as always.
"I don't know what your fasination is with bringing other people down, but if you don't cut it out, life is going to become sour and dull. You and Miss Hardy are the ones that started Kora's mistreatment from this school so I know you at least have an idea who hurt her."
I didn't want to look at her after hearing her mention Samantha. "Why don't you ever call her Samantha?" I asked quiet-like.


"Why are you avoiding the question?" she asked. "Interrogating me isn't part of your job description. Why don't you just stick to your degree," I muttered. "Okay, smart guy. First of all, I don't call her Samantha because I don't have any respect for her. And secondly, how do you know it's not? Quite frankly, it doesn't seem like you know much about anything, so how is it you would know about my job qualifications?"
"Why do you call me by my first name then, huh? You obviously don't respect me either, I'm the same as her," I snapped rudely.
Ms. Holmes sighed, for the first time, not looking at me directly. "You don't munipulate. You hurt because you're hurt, and yes, that is like Miss Hardy, but I can tell that it's not who you are. She'll be like that for the rest of her life, but you won't be."
"What? How would you know that?" Not only was she making me even angrier, now she was confusing me. "I've lived a bit longer than you and believe it or not, it's easier to read people than you think."

"Well, sorry, but I don't know who hurt her. Why do you assume someone hurt her? Can't she just fall down and hurt herself?" I asked. "She's not a clumsy girl," Ms. Holmes replied a matter-of-factly. "She's a weird girl," I whispered harshly and sighed. "Can I go back inside now? I don't know anything."
"En. Have you hurt Kora?"
"What if I have?!"
She dropped her arms and I watched the energy drain from her. Her eyes dropped and her jaw tightened as she swung open the door and went inside without saying another word to me. I didn't know if she wanted me to leave or come in, but I took it upon myself to leave.
I started thinking...why did Samantha break up with me blaming my abusiveness when she encouraged it?
I don't really know why, but for some reason, Clasen Holmes' words
and judgement stuck with me. But their influence, however,
took some time to take affect.



She was my target, my outlet, and everything I thought I hated. To be honest, it really wasn't even about her. It could have been anyone that I treated like that, but I was her loyal bully for four years. There was really no one else, other than the occasional geek me and my friends would jam into lockers. I thought I was cool, I thought I had all the friends in the world, and I thought hurting other people in any way possible would make myself feel better.
...................I thought wrong.


End of En Cat I: The Past
Stay tuned for the next chapter coming soon!
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“Watch out, Katie,” Kora said normally, pointing at the nurse and holding onto Booker’s wheelchair. Katie searched for a spider frantically, “What?! Where?!” she yelped. “It’s Booker’s birthday. And I think he deserves a pretty present,” Kora replied, still pointing. “You know! She is right. Ain’t she right, George?” Booker looked to his friend on the couch. “Oh yes. Oh yes,” George agreed, fervently nodding his head. The nurse smiled knowingly and waved them off, “Now what was with all that pointin’, trying to scare me? Why don’t you learn sign language and ask her out yourself, silly old man. We don’t pawn people off here.” Katie replied in a southern accent, giving them a sweet smile. “Well, we tried,” Kora sighed. “Last year during your birthday, we threw a party. I don’t know why we didn’t do that again this year,” she continued. “Don’t you worry about any of that. I’m having fun as is! Another party might give me a heart attack,” Booker laughed. She rolled her eyes, “Oh c’mon, you’re not as old and fragile as you think you are.”
“Kora. I’m eighty-seven years old. I’m in a wheelchair and I live in an old folks home.”
“But you can walk when you try,” she smiled and sat near him on the floor.


After a few minutes, Kora was on the floor, bowing to George. “Oh wise George. You know all. Psst, Booker, bow with me,” she murmured. “You’re something else…” Booker said lowly. George was stifling a loud chuckle. “What? All I said was that you should get a job that defines you. I spent my whole life unhappy, although I tried to laugh and love my way through it,” George said through his laughs. She sat up laughing.
Kora Whitely spent a lot of her free time hanging out with Booker in Lakeview Acres nursing home, which started as volunteering a few years ago. She only knew George a week by then. Kora often cheered them up and started the ongoing ritual for everyone to dress in their nicest clothing every Friday, and most of them only had one nice outfit. Lots of the residents had lost their mind, sight, and hearing, but she did her best.


The next Friday, Kora stared at the oddly silent Booker next to her at the card table. “Hey. What’s with the uh…why are you so quiet?” George grinned, “He’s dizzy with a dame, Kora. Dizzy with a dame.” She rose an eyebrow at Booker. “Just go talk to her! I’m sure she can read lips,” Kora insisted. The man playing with them played in silent because he was one with many things long gone. Booker smiled at his young friend and shook his head, “A radiant woman like that doesn’t want to be bothered by an old fool like me.” Kora frowned. “My whole life has been nothing but convincing myself I’m not worthy and I’m not going to sit around and let you live the rest of yours like that,” she said and stood abruptly. Booker stuttered to turn, “Missy where do you think you’re goin’? Shouldn’t I be the one saying all that? Come sit back down. Kora!”


“Ms. Eately, can you read lips?” Kora sat down next to Marian Eately. She placed her hands on her lap and gave a nod. Back at the card table, Booker was silently stewing on the situation. Kora plotted and planned with Marian. Happily strutting back to her seat, she plopped in the chair. Booker glanced at her. They played in silence for a few minutes until Booker cleared his throat suddenly. “Kora. There’s something I need to tell ya,” he said hesitantly. “I’m going to need surgery here pretty soon and I won’t be here for the next few weeks after the end of next week.” Kora’s lips parted, “What are you talking about, why do you need surgery?” George touched the other player’s arm and whispered to him, “Let’s go play some chess and let them talk.” She watched them get up, “Wha-Why do you guys need to leave? Booker, what’s going on?” Worry filled her face. “I have a brain tumor,” he said. Seeing the tears in her eyes, he continued, “Now, it’s nothin’ to get upset over. I’m going to be fine. I don’t know what they walked away for.” Kora knew as well as Booker did…that the odds were against him and he was only trying to reassure her. She felt a pang in her chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked. “I know you tend to worry your little head over nothing,” he replied. “Y-you’re right. Let’s just get back to cards.”


“You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Kora. You really are one of a kind, just doing this out of the goodness of your heart,” Katie laughed, smiling up at the decorations, “He really is happy. Look at him go.” Kora bit her lip. “Katie. Why didn’t any of you tell me about his tumor?” she asked painfully. “He said…that it wasn’t our job. And he wanted to be the one. He’s known for a long time now. I guess it’s just taken him this long to build up the courage to tell you,” the other nurse, Liam explained, looking over at Booker and Marian. “Is he going to die…?” Kora asked, causing Katie to look back at her and freeze. “Kora…you know we don’t know how to answer that. Just try to enjoy this nice party that you threw him,” she said quietly and went to tend to a patient. Liam touched Kora’s arm and sighed.




Booker and Marian were hitting it off. They had only been dancing for a few minutes before Kora looked over and saw Booker making his move. Surprised, Marian kissed him back. This brought a tearful smile to Kora’s face. “They sure are moving fast,” Liam laughed. “Mhm, yeah. I’m happy for him. He never gets to enjoy himself like this. I just feel a little guilty that this party is a week late. But, I figured it’s a combination of a birthday party and a celebration before his surgery tomorrow….don’t tell him that though,” Kora laughed nervously. “Sure thing. Let me know if you need anything, Kora. I’ll be at the front desk,” Liam replied. Kora sat down, deep in thought. Booker had been her only friend in years. The last time she had a friend was in middle school. She passed away in a car accident shortly before they entered high school. She clutched her dress. Marian laughed. It was this beautiful, aged, deaf laugh that made her heart feel a little better, knowing Booker was having a good time with her. Kora wiped the tears from her cheeks, hearing Booker sit in his wheelchair and start to roll over to her.



“Hey, old man. Are you having yourself a good time?” Kora teased. “I hate it. I hate this party. What are you talking about?” Booker responded in mono-tone. She stared at him, mouth agape. He started laughing, “Where’d your humor go today, kiddo?” She smiled cutely, closing her eyes. Suddenly, the two got quiet. Booker had his head down, looking at his lap.
“I don’t think I’m going to make it…” he said quietly, keeping his wistful eyes down.
“Oh, shut up, you’re going to be fine,” Kora retorted angrily, looking off.
His expression changed into slight frustration, but a deep sadness clouded his eyes as he slowly raised them to Kora. “You’re my best friend,” he said. Kora raised her eyes to the ceiling with tears and then off into the distance again, clenching her jaw and lips. “Don’t do that. Don’t say your goodbyes,” she replied as sternly as she could muster, still not looking at him. All expression fell on Booker’s face, staring at her. “I really think I might die,” he nearly whispered, looking back at his weak legs. Kora’s whole body became tense as the welled up tears in her eyes were about to spill over. To hear Booker be open and honest, without putting on an act, terrified her.


Kora visited Lakeview Acres late in the evening two days later…with her heart pounding like a drum. No one was at the front counter and the entire place was unusually quiet. Most of the patients were in another room or sleeping. George was sitting at the chess table by himself, almost pretending to play. Katie walked to her from the back, slowly and hesitantly. No, Kora thought, don’t walk over like that.. “Katie..?”
Katie’s voice was quiet, “Kora, sit down.”
A cry broke through her throat as she covered her mouth. Katie knew she didn’t even need to say it. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Booker! You jerk!” she yelled, her broken sobs echoing throughout the nursing home. Kora fell onto the couch with Katie and hid her cries in the nurses’ arms.


Everything was crashing around her, as the emptiness in her heart lead her out of the door, dragging her feet the whole way. She could barely see past her tears, but she knew the familiar route enough. Kora leaned into the door to open it and trudged to the bench right outside. The air wasn’t too cold, but the soft cold wind hit her face and touched her tears, making her colder. Her best friend was gone—her only true friend in the world. They shared so many wonderful memories. Kora smiled a little, knowing she’d cherish them forever. Sadness came back after her lips curved. Why did he leave me here? She sat against the back of the bench as tears fell incessantly.


An exotic passerby stopped short on the sidewalk and looked at the crying girl strangely. “Hey. Are you uh…are you okay?” she asked, bending over to get a closer look at her. Kora moved her eyes to the woman. Why is she dressed like that? I haven’t even worn something that outlandish before, Kora thought, wiping her face. The woman stared at the silent girl with deep concern. She too, was silent, looking into her soul. Her eyes narrowed and she walked forward, sitting on the bench next to Kora. “Just say the word,” she purred seriously. Kora frowned out of disjointedness and rubbed her eye, “Huh?”
The woman positioned herself awkwardly. “I really gotta work on my people skills. What the heck is wrong with me? She doesn’t know what I’m talking about,” she mumbled quietly to herself. “Do I know you?” Kora asked. “Oh. My name is Bassst—uh, Bassy. Just call me Bassy,” she responded.


Bassy scooted close to Kora, almost enough to be sitting on top of her, Kora felt. “I don’t like to see a woman crying. I need you…to put into words what you need to heal your wounds,” she tried to explain slowly. “You can’t do anything, but thank you for being nice to me. My best friend passed away. There’s nothing anyone can do,” Kora responded, letting another tear stream down her face. Bassy smiled and wiped her tear away. “Please, tell me how you can be healed, although I know it, I need you so say it,” she said. Kora shifted away from the stranger touching her face and then looked back, feeling badly when she was offering to help her. “That’s alright, I don’t need healed, I just need to suck it up and be there for his family now,” Kora replied softly. “Everyone needs to be healed. And everyone needs death, not only because it’s inevitable, but also because sometimes, it’s a part of healing. He considered you family, did he not?” Bassy asked.
“Huh...uh, how did you know that?”
“Un…Well, I j-just, you said the…he was your best friend!” Bassy covered, waving her hands frantically. Kora just stared. Bassy sighed and a serious look returned on her face, “I cannot help you if you don’t tell me.”
Kora closed her eyes, “All I’ve ever wanted is a true friend. But, he’s gone now so—” Bassy put her feminine, slender finger on her lips, “That will do. I’ll…keep in touch.” Kora watched in confusion as Bassy stood. “Wait, you don’t have my number or—” Kora started. Did this woman want to be her friend? Kora stood at the chance. Bassy turned over her shoulder and gave her a sly smile. And with that, she walked into the evening light.



My back was killing me. I felt like I was going to burst into flames any moment. Not to mention, the smell from old trash in my apartment was beginning to make me feel more ill than I already was. I needed to take it out, I decided. I had been gone for 9 days, so I hadn’t had a chance. As much as I hated bothering him, Liam was used to dealing with immobile people. I painfully dug for my cell phone in my back pocket. “Hey, sorry to call at such a late hour. Do you think you can come over for a bit and be my legs?” I asked. “Yeah, sure, En. It might take me a while though, I have to drop my niece back off at her house. How have you been getting around by yourself, not being at work and all?” Liam responded, his voice making me wince. He wasn’t speaking that loudly and my cell’s volume was down. Why were my ears being so sensitive? “I went to work today,” I admitted. “Dude! You just got out of the hospital this morning, what’s—” I sighed in the middle of his sentence, “My bills aren’t going to pay themselves. Anyway, see you when you get here.” I hung up. Sitting in the darkness was annoying me. It reminded me of the dreams I had been having recently and that pissed me off.


Everything…was burning. Sharp pain shot through all of my limbs and radiated my chest and face. I had to sit up. It felt like the worse heartburn in the world. I thought about calling the ambulance, instead of waiting for Liam to come take out my trash, but I didn’t.
Thoughts of my past had been surfacing over the past few weeks. I sat in pain, wondering if I had been lost in thought because of my recent dreams. They had me tossing and turning every night and waking up drenched in sweat.
Every night it was the same.
It was pitch black around me and I was alone, and no one could hear me because I couldn’t speak…no matter how hard I tried. I felt like I deserved it too. The weirdest part of this dream is after it ended every night, I’d have to go to the bathroom and puke. Those dreams made me so angry! Why was I getting those shitty dreams with a shitty stomach ache?! My subconscious was wrong! I didn’t deserve shit. Even when I woke up and went to the bathroom to throw up, I was furious.
I even went to the doctor. He told me my fever was high enough to be hospitalized and I had to spend 8 days and the next morning in the ER. I only went home because I assured them I’d stick to strict bed rest, not because my fever had gone down.



My heart thumped and stuttered. Aaarghh! I yelled, but no sound came out. My vision started to go in and out. What’s happening to me?! Am I…Am I having a heart attack?! It felt like…someone was clutching my heart and releasing it slowly, even though it must have been beating quicker than that, because I could feel the pulsing rapidly in my ears and neck. I could feel blood pumping into my face as my veins bulged from my neck. There was no way this was a normal heart attack. I reached for my phone, but it was difficult with my nearly immobile arms and hands. I pressed several buttons. Dead. My vision was blurry, but I attempted to look around the room for the charger. God, I thought, of all the times not to have a house phone! I left it in the car, I realized. My only hope was to wait for Liam to arrive, but my body was burning up to an unbearable amount…there was no way whatever was happening to me would hold out until then. I’m going to die before he even gets here…


I slid off the couch because now, my legs were stiffening and burning. I needed to arch my knee to ease the pain and pain moved from my heart to the lower right side of my stomach. What the hell?! Is it my gallbladder now? The pain was terrible. Screams wouldn’t leave my throat, no matter how much noise I thought I was making. The striking pangs felt like they were bouncing off all of my organs, each one lingering in the torture, and hurting more than the last. Through my blurry, unstable vision, I saw my hands. They were scorching pink, as if I were lying in a desert. Someone….is bashing my skull! I thought wildly. Flashes of my funeral went through my mind, making my adrenaline rush. The only person…who would come…is Liam…I don’t even talk to my parents anymore…No one…no one would be at my funeral! I refused to let the tears leak through my eyelids. This can’t be the end! What is HAPPENING to my BODY?! I tried to scream, but they were just thoughts…my mouth and voice weren’t working. I can’t…move my lips and tongue…to speak…not even a scream comes out!

Nausea and severe cramps cranked through my body at full strength, toppling me over onto all fours. The muscles in my fingers began to curl slowly and painfully into fists, cracking my knuckles and wrists. My elbows and knees felt like they were tightening, shooting fire through my limbs, hitting my pelvis and shoulders like sledgehammers…but my body wouldn’t let me react to the pain, and I remained on my hands and knees, throbbing in agony. Everything was going black, but in flashes—my eyes were pulsing, radiating my face. I wanted so badly to clutch my heart…it felt like it was stopping. The burning increased, like someone set me in an oven and turned it on, but no sweat formed. If anything, I was going to die from a heatstroke before I died from another heart attack.


And then everything stopped. I felt no pain. The burning went away, and I stayed on all fours for a few seconds, confused. I could feel the blood rush leaving my face. My hands weren’t pink anymore. None of what just happened, I knew, didn’t make sense. In a sigh of relief, I was cut short by the worst pains of my life. I could feel my own abdomen pulling itself toward my spine…and it felt being stabbed repeatedly. This is it…I’m dying, I thought, and for the first time, my anger was gone and it was replaced by utter despair.

I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to flip over, and luckily, my limbs let me. The pain continued, even worse than before. The bones and muscles in my face were constricting, paralyzing my neck and movements. It felt as if I was being strangled. Crazy thoughts went through my head, as I felt non existing punches bash me and crash my skull. I couldn’t move my face at all. My facial structure….feels different! How is this possible?! What the hell is happening? All of the bones in my body were actually breaking and repositioning—I could hear them. My bones were also…shrinking. I barely noticed that I saw differently, better even. I was petrified. My jaw stiffened as the skin starting stretching. Why can’t I die quicker?! I thought out of fear and sadness. I wasn’t angry, I was scared. Really scared. I hoped no one would see me like that, so terrified and unable. In fact, I was ready to die alone before anyone saw my writhing hopelessly in pain. I wished with all my might that Liam didn’t show before I died. I even reached my violently shaking hand into my pocket to see if I had a pocket knife.