Okay, I'm going to be completely honest here. Being shackled against my will to a very cold hospital table, wearing a flimsy hospital gown that is thinner than a piece of paper, being in a large room with full white interior and sharing breathing space with many other mutants of all ages sucks. And if you're wondering, yes, I did say other mutants.
I am one of them.
I haven't always been a mutant. I used to be a normal eighteen-year-old girl with a brand-new high school diploma, scholarships, popularity, friends, a put-together family, and a bright future ahead of me. Even though it feels like ages since I last hugged my mom or laughed with my friends, it's only been two days since either occurred.
It's only been two days since I was normal.
I was outside when the pain first appeared. Seated on the roof of my two-story family home in Aspen Park, Colorado, I was enjoying the first sprinkles of rain. I loved the rain. The smell, the taste, the sound. It somehow managed to calm me and excite me at the same time. I had just opened my mouth to catch the tiny droplets that were starting to fall when my mother called me in for supper. I prepared myself to slide off of the roof onto my balcony as I had done so many times before. As I put my foot on the ledge below the gutter, an unspeakable pain ripped through my shoulders. My grip on the roof edge loosened in my agony, and without any warning, I fell onto the hard, cold concrete of the balcony. The wind knocked out of my lungs, I laid there for a moment, allowing myself to breath again. My damp hair fell into my face and I brushed it away, slowly pushing myself up. A familiar wet nose wedged itself under my left hand and helped me to get up more stably.
"Sadie." I breathed, slowly standing up on my shaky legs. My German Shepherd stayed by my side and helped me to stand solidly. Sadie usually sat on my porch to wait for me as I sat on the roof, as it would be physically impossible to get her up there. She enjoyed the rain almost as much as she enjoyed my presence, which surprised us. My mother used to say that Sadie and I could have been sisters, but God decided to make her a dog instead to be even closer to me. I believed that to be true.
I got through the French doors of my balcony and into my room with my dog's help, where I shut the doors behind me. I carefully drew the curtain and changed slowly from my damp school sweatshirt and shorts into a black t-shirt and capris. I brushed my hair out slowly and walked upstairs to the kitchen, where my parents were sitting at the set table.
"Sorry for making you wait," I mumbled as I slid into my seat. "I slipped off the roof and had to change my clothes." I avoided mentioning the pains I was having, as something told me it was dangerous. I had never truly hidden something from my parents before, but this wasn't an ordinary occurrence.
I ate as much as I could hold of the hot meal while my parents discussed work business. My father was a real estate agent, who said he'd had four open houses to show just between ten o'clock and noon which caused him to take a nap during his lunch break. My mother, who cooked professionally, had 3 cookbooks in print and was in the process of getting her own show, told a story about her meeting with a TV company that went sour. I couldn't help but laugh at her impression of the man's facial expression when she declined, and immediately stopped as the pain came back with a flurry of needle-like stabs. My parents both stopped talking to look at me with worry.
"Are you all right, Aleta?" My mother asked, reaching over and pressing her hand to my forehead. One of the drawbacks of being an only child is that if you even look slightly like you're sick, your parents will always check to be sure.
I shrugged, taking a few more bites of salted peas. I waited until she took her hand down, and said:
"I think I have a stomach ache. Can I go lie down?" It wasn't that far from the truth, and to my relief, they didn't question it.
"Of course, sweetheart," Dad said, taking my plate and putting it on top of his. A low rumble sounded from the outside, and my dad smiled. "That isn't an excuse to get back on the roof, is it?" I shook my head, giving them a small smile.
"I wish, Dad," Dad smiled and nodded, patting my hand.
"Go lie down." Mother said, looking at me with kind eyes. "If you're feeling better later, come join us in Farkle, okay?" I nodded and stood up. Sadie jumped up from her place under the table and joined me in my bedroom. I slowly closed the door behind us and collapsed on my bed. A low moan filled the room, and it took me a few seconds to realize it had come from me. My head pounded like someone was inside of it, hammering against my skull. My pulse started racing, and sweat built up on my brow. I lifted my hand up to wipe it away, and stopped, noticing my entire hand was shaking. I gulped, letting my hand drop, and sat up slowly. My back was the worst out of all the pain, like someone had shoved it in a blender and pressed 'puree' if that would even be possible. I took deep breaths, clenching and unclenching my fists as I did so, trying to distract myself from the pain. What is the problem? I thought to myself. I have never hurt this much before. And in my back? I've never had any issues with it before now! I shivered, noting a cool tint to the air. Sadie saw me shiver and climbed up onto my bed to snuggle next to me. I ran my fingers through her thick hair and noticed that she was looking at me with fear in her big brown eyes. I tried my best to give her a reassuring smile, but it felt impossible. Another wave of pain erupted, and this time, it felt like something was ripping my muscles apart. I accidentally tugged on Sadie a bit too hard and she gave a yelp.
"S-sorry, girl." I panted, letting go of her fur and winding my fingers together to give even pain. Another pain found its way into the spot right above my eyes, and all I could see was spots of black and white. I gasped, squeezing my eyes shut. My pulse roared in my ears, and I curled up into a ball on my mattress, air coming in ragged gusts to my lungs. All I felt, all I knew, all I saw, all I heard, all I could remember was pain.
Suddenly, out of the blue, I felt a sick churning in my stomach. I jumped up, yanked open my door and sprinted as fast as I could to my bathroom. I made it just in time for my breakfast, lunch and dinner to make its reappearance into the world.
Once I finished being sick, I staggered over to the sink and washed my face. I shut the faucet off and looked into the mirror, water and mascara dripping off of my face. I looked away for a second and had to do a double-take. My eyes were bloodshot, my hair looked like I'd just tossed and turned in bed for four hours straight, and my face was deathly pale. I sighed, running my fingers through my hair and toweling my face off.
After one last glance, I walked back into my room slowly and shut the door behind me. Sadie was still perched upon my striped comforter, and when she saw me, her tail beat a tattoo against my bed. I couldn't even smile at her, I hurt so bad. I slowly walked over and sat down beside her, running my fingers through her fur. She looked over at me, wrinkled her brow and smelled the air.
"What's the matter, girl?" I asked, watching her nose wiggle. She sat up, and without any warning, began nudging her muzzle against my back. I almost screamed as every point she touched formed a point of searing, unimaginable pain. "S-sadie, stop! Please!" I gasped, jerking away from her touch. She growled low in her throat, a noise that scared me. Sadie never growled unless something bad was happening, and I knew that something bad was happening to me.
Thoughts began to swirl around in my brain amidst the flashes of pain. I'm hurting. Sadie's freaking out, and she only does so when something bad is going on. She nudged her muzzle against my back. Dogs have a sixth sense, don't they? She knows something I don't. I sighed, feeling like I was back in preschool, trying to put together a tough wooden puzzle. It felt nearly impossible to back then because my brain was still developing. Even now, my brain is developing. But what is it?
Angry, tired, in pain and scared, I lifted my hand up to the back of my neck and ran it down my back. I waited, and kept moving down, expecting to hit skin or my spine, but what met my fingers was something I wasn't expecting. It was soft and rounded out from my skin. I had no chance to investigate, however, because the next thing I knew was blackness.
Hey all! I'm sorry for being on such a long break, but I'm back now!