Chapter 1

The idea of staring your own death in the face is scary; but is it worse when the person going to kill you is yourself?

Maybe, I can't decide yet.

The drop wasn't all too bad form the roof. About thirty feet to the dry dirt covered ground, maybe thirty-five. I sat down, legs kicking over the edge. Contemplating whether this was the most morally, financially, and socially right thing to do really was wracking my brain.

One two hands, the idea of having the life slowly be drained by fibrodysplasia ossificans progressiva, or F.O.P. for short, is a real downer. For those who don't know, F.O.P. is a rare condition that causes muscle in the body to develop into bone. The slightest bump or bruise could accelerate it. The doctors had told me that there was unusual growth of the muscles parallel to my spine. When the X-ray came back, there was bone there. What made it worse was that this disease killed my uncle, slowly and painfully. We didn't even have a proper burial; science "needed" his body for research.

Morally was against me.

Financially speaking, I was running my parents into a rut. They were young, too young to have a 16 year old. My mother, Grace, was about 33, and my dad, Oliver, 34. The last thing they needed was a kid toddling, and another driving. Their accounts drained, cards maxed out, and pockets were left empty. I was the one in two million people who could've developed it. It would be better for them. They could forget me, and tell the new one that he was an only child.

My parents were having another baby, my mother seven months pregnant. They don't know the gender, but the file I "accidentally" opened had reported that the baby was most-likely a boy. I hope they don't name him after me. Xavier is a pretty weird name, especially for a junior in high school.

Anyway, financially was against me also, two out of three. Socially was neutral. None of my friends, well, my only friend, has no idea about it. I've hid it for the last few months. I'd fall, or continuously try to pop a bone, and blame it on gym soreness, or a stiff sleep. Sadly, I was an amazing liar. Poor Wes, he's gonna hate me for killing myself, but he has other friends. I don't, so no one should worry. My family may grieve, but only for a little while. I've been practically invisible and nonchalant for the last few years.

I peeked over the edge, watching the dandelions bend away from the spring breeze. My ebony hair mirrored the dandelions, covering my eyes. I stood up, still looking down.

"Red blends well with yellow," I muttered. A pick up in the breeze gave me goosebumps. I ran my fingers over the olive-colored hills on my arms. The tips of my black Chucks hovered over the edge, wanting to slip. My left foot edged towards the hangover slowly. My stomach dropped a foot with every inch, until I couldn't take it. Like an instinct, my body arched back, throwing me back onto the roof with tears in my eyes.

"God dammit!" I yelled, pounding the roof with a closed fist, tearing my knuckles open. I got up, and climbed back down the skylight, into my room. I grabbed an old shirt that was too small and wrapped it around my right knuckles. I sighed, and went into my closet. There was a dark blue duffel bag, bulging near the end. It held my only escape from the world.

"I'll be back soon, Ma," I said, walking down the staircase. I approached my mom, resting on the couch, and kissed her head.

"Going to the gym, hon?" I nodded. "Okay, be safe, Xavier." I rummaged through the fridge for a bottle of water.

"I will," with the bottle in my hand, and my keys in my sports shorts pocket, I went for the door.

"Wait," my mom said, struggling to get up. I dropped my bag, and went to spot her.

"Sit back down, Ma. You're baggage is pretty big, 'member?" She chuckled, and sat back down. She gave me a kiss on my cheek, and we said out goodbyes.

After leaving the house, I jumped into my 2002 Honda Accord, and raced down to the gym. I walked in through the glass doors, and booked it towards the punching bags. Opening my duffel bag, I grabbed my gloves. They weren't fancy, just black open-fingered gloves with some padding around the knuckles. It didn't help much on my right hand, though.

The bag really took a beating today. It swung back and forth and side to side like a wrecking ball out of control. My hands were red and swelling, I was punching so hard. I felt blood soak into the gloves, and start to run down my wrists. I gave the bag a break, wiping the beads of sweat off my face. Grabbing the bottle of water, I went into the guys' locker room.

"Damn," I muttered, and I slipped off the gloves, cringing at clinging fabric pulling skin off with it. My knuckles were toast. The top layers of skin were gone, replaced by mauled bumps and ditches of whatever flesh covered them, blood draining out. I ran the water over both my hands in a shower stall with the faucet running. I could barely feel the stinging of my knuckles against how much burning pain was covering my back. It felt like the extra bones were going to just rip right out of my flesh. I slipped out of my shirt, trying to look at my back in a mirror. There were two thick line of almost blood red going down my back, parallel to my spine. There must've been about one or two layers of skin holding the pressure in.

Some footsteps started to echo throughout the tile covered room. A voice was absent, however. I watched out of the corner of my eye, only to see my doctor.

"Hey, Doc," I said. "What're you doin' here?"

"A doctor can work out, can't he" he asked, jokingly. I shook his hand, looking into his eyes. They didn't look warm, like a regular doctor. They looked stone cold, and merciless. The next thing I knew, I was on the ground, a syringe in my chest, vision blurred, looking up at him talking into a bluetooth. "Number 525-GHA has been contained, send a transport team, stat."

I blacked out before I could hear a response.

Author's Note: OH MY GOODNESS I AM SOO SORRY FOR THE INACTIVITY

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Okay, so there was a lot of drama at home and I had lost inspiration to write ;^; But I has it back now! SO I will hopefully be putting out one chapter a week at least for any one of my stories. Please forgive me for my blocks ^^;;