Walking down the halls in a high school is as difficult as you would expect. Though sometimes, it can be harder. When I left my biology class I had no way of knowing that the phone call I was about to get would change my life. No way of knowing, and that's what scared me the most. I should have known, though. Everyone should have. Only now do I see how foolish that hope truly was. If only I had prepared myself, if only… Well that sentence could have ended in anything really, but what does it matter now? Now that I have the answer I should have expected all along. When my phone rang I though it was a friend, not my fate. I knew something was wrong when I heard his voice, all that pity. He tried to stay strong for me. Something I will admire of him even on my death bed. Hopefully I'll have enough lucid moments to remember. That's all I want really. But none of that mattered after I hung up the phone. My friends were concerned; I was so out of it. I felt like a ghost and judging by their expressions I looked like one. Then I felt it, the coldness on my cheeks, the wetness. I was crying and I didn't know how to stop, probably didn't want to. It wasn't the tears that I will remember though, it was the look. When I got to my World Civilization classroom my teacher asked me what was wrong. Everyone wanted to know, after all its not that often someone walks into a room crying. I have no recollection of telling them, it's a mystery to me how I did it. But their faces, oh their faces, those I will never forget. Never have I seen so much pity, so much misfortune, all for me. The "I'm so sorry's" of the class were drowned out by the sobs from my friends. Never more have I wanted to fail a test so badly, only to pass. It was like a nightmare I was waiting to wake up from. Maybe one day I will, maybe one day there will be a cure. But until then, I will live with the faces, the pity, the distance my friends give me, for they don't want to lose someone close to them. All of that I can forgive, but there is one thing I can't, the lack of my mother. I will never be able to forgive god for taking her from me before I got the news. We shared a common fate, and that's why I was terrified. I had watched myself die right before my eyes. The suffering of my mother, I would have to endure as well. The pained expressions from loved ones, I would get. The face, that's the worst, for me and my mom look identical. I had to watch my face go through pain; barely remember its own identity. Maybe one day I will forgive, forgive god for taking her. Perhaps when the cure comes, if it comes, the forgiving will be easier. But until then, all my life will ever be is the disease. Huntington's chorea.