《Time March's Forward》


 Prologue

    I wiped the splattering of blood on my palm across the vibrant green grass scattered around. Slowly I uncurled from my hunched position and sat back against the grand oak tree behind me. As I did so, gazing through my still teary vision at the surrounding landscape, I was floored with reverence at the beauty in front of me.


    It was as though I was seeing everything for the first time. The evening sun shimmered in the distance in a multitude of orange, pinks and purples, reflecting upon the slowly flowing stream below that held not a wave or ripple in sight. It was a sight I had become more and more familiar with over the past few months. Yet until today, I had never truly noticed just how beautiful it could be.


    The town I had called home spanned far across the horizon with no end in sight, hidden in the shadows of the setting sun. It amazed me how such a small place, a place that was minuscule in comparison to the wider world, was able to contain all I had ever known. Every person I had met, every place I had been, every memory I held. It was with such a thought I wondered for a moment whether I should have taken my dad''s offer to go travelling around the world. To experience all that the world had to offer; At least once.


    ''No matter.'' I thought with a shake of my head. There was no point fantasising about what could have been. A lesson I had learned proficiently over the past few months.


    I leaned back further into the rugged brown oak tree behind me, a behemoth of a tree so wide it would take five people just to wrap their arms around it. The occasional dull green leaf cascaded down from above, dancing in the wind as it slowly dropped to the floor before getting lost among the sea of already strewn leaves. Though it was clear from the sight of its barren, long, thick branches that not many more leaves would be making such a journey.


    I looked around from the grassy verdant hill I sat upon. Once again I marvelled at the picturesque scene displayed before me and wondered how I had never noticed it before. The way the land stretched below was filled with a symphony of flowers ranging from burning red to bright white in colour, all beautiful in appearance. The way the rare butterfly and bee were able to be seen rushing from one to another as they flowed and danced along the breeze. The way the long stretches of grass waved from to and fro In motion with the wind. It was all so beautiful.


    Unfortunately, as was the story of my life, nothing could ever stay perfect for long. Case and point, as I sat there staring at the world around me as the sun continued to set, I could feel a sense of foreboding build within me as the pain in my chest, Something which had become a constant companion, began to strengthen with each rapid heartbeat. I raised my fist to my mouth as I did my best to stifle the groans threatening to escape with each shallow breath I took. Thankfully, this time the pain didn''t last long, starting to subside after only a moment and allowing me to let out a long sigh in relief. Yet though the pain was gone the sense of foreboding and doom I felt was still very much present. Hanging over me like a guillotine and sending an icy chill along my neck that left me in a state of constant unease.


    "You alright mate? You know, besides the obvious."


    I looked over to my side to see the figure of my best friend lying down on the grass beside me. His eyes, a deep shade of brown so dark they were closer to black, opened wide and staring directly into mine as an awkward smile hung from his lips and he scratched the back of his head, causing his hair to stick up at awkward angles. Sam, or as his birth certificate stated Samael, had been my best friend ever since kindergarten with the two of us being nigh inseparable for the past twelve or so years. If it wasn''t for how different we looked I''m sure most people would have thought us to be brothers.


    When it came to appearances we were polar opposites. Unlike Sam''s pitch-black hair which was short and curly, mine was long, scruffy and blonde, coming to a rest at my eyes and needing to be constantly moved and pushed out of the way. While Sam possessed a pair of dark brown eyes, mine were a deep, heavy green. And while Sam had a healthy, glowing tan, I was a deathly pale; almost translucent in appearance. That however was something that hadn''t always been the case, having recently gotten worse over the past couple of months.


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    "Earth to Adam, you there?" I snapped out of my stupor with the sudden flailing of Sam''s arm directly in my face, almost making me collapse backwards into the oak tree in surprise.


    "Yeah, yeah, I''m still here," I responded, haphazardly slapping his arm away to his amusement.


    "What were you so busy thinking about?"


    ''Where to begin.'' I thought with a self-deprecating chuckle. My mind had been a mess for a while now. Causing me to spend most of my days constantly lost in thought, swaying from one extreme emotion to another.


    I thought about telling him the news I received only a week ago for the hundredth time that day before once again deciding against it. I wasn''t so sure why I couldn''t tell him, it wasn''t as if I didn''t trust him explicitly, or that he didn''t know the gist of everything already. But for some reason, as I stared into his piercing brown eyes, I just couldn''t do it. Instead I plastered a large, fake smile onto my face.


    "Nothing man, nothing at all. Just... thanks for being here with me. It means a lot."


    Sam''s smile immediately lowered upon hearing my words, his face turning sorrowful as his eyes glazed over. "Don''t worry about it, man." As he spoke he patted my back, his strikes extremely gentle; Barely more than taps. As if I was made of glass.


    Silence once again enveloped us as we went back to watching the environment around us as the sun continued to set. Well, I assumed that was what Sam was doing. I was once again getting sucked into my thoughts about what was coming. Despite everything that had happened it still felt so surreal, as if I could wake up at any moment and everything would just go back to the way it was. Alas, I knew that wasn''t true.


    There was so much I was going to miss. Sam with his constant support and shitty humour. If it wasn''t for him I don''t even want to begin to think how I would have ended up these past couple of months. Though If I had to guess, probably six feet under. I couldn''t have asked for a better best friend. A better brother. Then there was Helen, Susan, my father, each one of them I was going to miss so very much. If only it didn''t have to end.


    Out of nowhere a familial tickle formed within my throat. A tickle that within moments suddenly grew into a gigantic coughing fit. One that left me paralysed, hunched over myself against the tree as tears began to form in my eyes and the pain that I had long since grown used to and was ever present grew in magnitude. My spit and tears crashed below against the dying leaves. Soon joined with a bright red liquid after only a few moments and a particularly harsh cough.


    I looked down, seeing the way my blood glistened back at me. How it perfectly contrasted against the dark green of the leaves and seemed to almost shine as the setting sun hit it, making it look like a collection of tiny rubies. However, I was soon distracted as the pain quickly became unbearable as it coursed through my body and left me wanting to scream out in agony. Yet the only thing I could think about was not the pain but the eerie and foreboding sense of dread I had felt all day and the way it only seemed to get stronger as the seconds passed. As if I was on the edge of a cliff, only one step away from certain doom.


    After what felt like hours, but must only have been a few minutes, my coughing finally resided. The first thing I noticed as the pain washed away was the large hand pressed firmly against my back, moving in a slow and circular pattern. I looked over towards Sam, noticing how he was no longer laid back and relaxed against the tree. Instead resting beside me on his knees with a stoic expression that held not a glimpse of surprise or shock.


    "That was a bad one wasn''t it?" I wheezed out as I smiled towards Sam, attempting to get rid of the sombre silence that had taken over.


    Sam paused. I could see how his jaw tightened as he held himself back from what he wanted to say before he released a long sigh. "Yeah, yeah it was."


    His reply was muted and with no emotion as he laid back against the tree and gazed back out into the distance. An action I soon followed after composing myself and wiping away the remnants of blood and saliva I found on my hands and chin against the leaves and grass once again. I felt the cool hard bark dig into my back as I went back to observing the setting sun, continuing to think about my life and how it got to this point once again. I let out a small sigh as I gazed at the now almost-set sun and darkness began to surround us. It was truly a beautiful sight. It was such a shame it wouldn''t last.

 Chapter 1

    The sound of a high-pitched caw drilled into my skull, blaring at a volume far too loud no matter the occasion, but especially in the morning. I awoke with tired reluctance and a frigid chill that seemed to have seeped into my very bones; forcing me to hide further in my poor excuse of blanket in a desperate attempt for warmth. I looked towards the offending noise, my gaze passing over the dull green paint that was peeling away from my mould-covered walls and looked through my frosted window, spotting the subject of my anger through the many cracks in the glass that attempted to distort my vision.


    I glared towards the crow with undisguised contempt, a look the crow seemed to revel in as it continued to sit on the perch of my windowsill. Keeping its black beady eyes focused on me as it cawed incessantly. In my sleep-deprived anger, I quickly lurched forward from my bed and attempted to close my window properly. Despite knowing the futility of such an action. Alas, as expected my efforts were rewarded with nought but an extra crack spanning the frame of the window from my heavy-handed approach, promising a colder morning for me tomorrow. As well as what I was sure was a look of arrogance and disdain that looked far too human from the crow.


    Knowing any hope for more sleep had been lost, I stood with tired resignation and headed towards the bathroom to get ready for the long day ahead. Not giving the crow the satisfaction of a further glance as I left my room. Upon entering the bathroom and stripping the many layers I had worn to sleep in a vain attempt to escape the cold, I stepped into the claustrophobic shower hidden in the corner, lined from head to toe in a sickening black mould, a common sighting throughout my home. Quickly I turned the handle, hearing the shower roar to life with a mixture of rumbles and jolts as I impatiently waited for the scalding heat to revitalise me back to life.


    Once it finally came to a start a blissful sigh escaped me as the heat cascaded over me and instantly washed away the annoyance I had felt from that irritating crow. I gave myself a few moments to relax before I began washing myself quickly, knowing we couldn''t afford to waste any of the searing liquid gold that splashed against me. Far too soon I turned the shower off with formidable difficulty, grabbing my towel from the side and fastening it around my waist before rushing back to my room to cover myself beneath layers upon layers of clothes to fight against the resurfacing cold.


    I opened my closet to the paltry selection of clothes before me, each possessing its own numerous battle scars and cuts. I grabbed a few at random, not particularly caring which ones I wore before I threw them on in rapid succession. noticing how they fitted me as well as they did when I first got them many years ago.  Reminding me of how little I''ve grown in all that time, standing at a mere five foot five which when paired with my skeletal figure made me appear more than three years younger. A fact I was more than self-conscious of.


    Ridding myself of such thoughts I looked at the clock that sat on my bedside cabinet, shocked at how quickly the hands appeared to be moving, and quickly rushed into the kitchen not twenty steps from my room. I searched the barren cupboards for an ounce of food with a fervour, despite already knowing the results. The kitchen was small, matching both the rest of the house as well as the amount of food we seemed to possess. Its walls were a dreary white, accompanied by an assortment of stains and burns from when it was once used to actually cook food, instead of merely storing it. Yet the smell of smoke still hung heavily in the air and seemed to cling to every crooked cupboard or rusted electronic.


    I closed the final cupboard in resignation, discarding any thoughts of breakfast and already planning on what I would need to buy after school. It was then I felt a pounding in my head, similar to when I had first woken up. Something I attributed to the gnawing hunger I currently felt. A hunger that was accompanied by a persistent chill that continued to cling to me and that I resolutely ignored.


    Just as I was about to exit the kitchen, I noticed a folded-up note resting atop the brittle oak table in the centre of the room, almost hidden underneath the porcelain ashtray placed above; Still holding a smouldering bud in its centre. I opened it up with tired disinterest, already having an idea about what it would say. As expected, it was simply a note from my dad, telling me to buy some groceries after school.


    I quickly went to retrieve the money needed for such an activity, kneeling on the floor as I placed my arm behind the ice-cold radiator on the far side of the kitchen, swinging it widely like the appendage of a metronome. After only a moment my hand bumped into a solid wood object no bigger than my hand which I firmly grasped before pulling out a dark wooden box into view.


    As I opened the unadorned box and looked inside I saw the pathetic sight of my family''s savings, amounting to no more than three or four grocery shops if we were lucky. After I had grabbed some cash and placed the box back in its hiding spot I looked at the nearby oven clock to see it was time to head out for school. Which I promptly did after grabbing my old phone and placing it, along with the money, in my black backpack I had left in my room.


    As I stepped out of the crumbling assembly of brick and wood I called home, I was assaulted by the stench of chemicals and fumes that surrounded the neighbourhood. All coming from the assortment of factories that lay no more than a small walk away. A raspy cough quickly let itself known, burning the back of my throat in a familiar and far too well-known pain that forced me to stop and wait for it to pass. Something that had been happening with more and more frequency as of late.


    Once it finally passed I slowly walked on, doing my best to regain my breath and ignore the headache that was slowly building, no doubt due to the acrid fumes entering my body. To distract myself I watched the floor with an eagle eye focus, doing my best to avoid the collection of needles and rubbish that covered the floor and could so easily puncture through the ratty material of my trainers.


    During the walk, like every other day, I looked around. At the broken windows of the houses that ran alongside me. The way the houses squeezed tightly against one another without any room to breathe or move. At the people who passed by, people I had seen and known for most of my life but yet still gazed upon me with a hint of wariness. An expression I mirrored as they hurried past, A tenseness in their posture that only seemed to disappear after a gap had formed between us. The way the pavement seemed to be constantly covered in a thin film of filth that stuck to my trainers with each step. Accompanying my walk with a constant squelching noise that would have disgusted the average person but something I barely noticed.


    However, the further I walked changes started to take place around me. The filth of the sidewalk slowly disappeared, showcasing a smooth asphalt surface underneath. The houses grew in size and space with each step, each one paired with gardens of increasing vanity and opulence. The poisoned air started to carry only the scent of fresh morning grass, only marred by the retching smell that still stubbornly clung to me. The only thing that stayed the same was the look of suspicion that the people passing by possessed. Though now they were accompanied by looks of scorn and disgust as they carried on walking, covered head to toe in their warm designer clothing.


    I felt the seed of jealousy and anger I had been harbouring for many years struggle to break free as I bit my tongue and pressed my lips tightly together, wanting so badly to scream in rage at every one of those pompous pricks that looked down upon me as they passed. Thankfully, Before I did anything I would regret, I heard a voice I knew as well as my own shout my name from up ahead in greeting.


    "Adam," Sam said with a wave as a lopsided smile hung off his face, his over six-foot tall body leaning casually against the sturdy brick wall surrounding his house. Well, in truth it was more like a mansion going of its size and lavishness, seeming to even put every other house in its surroundings to shame.


    Sam was my best friend, something which surprised almost everybody due to how different our lives seemed. We had met as children at the same nursery, what with there only being one near the both of us, and ever we had been inseparable. As I observed Sam and his frankly intimidating physique It still shocked me to think about how small and meek he used to be. It was amazing what puberty could do.


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    ''Alongside not having to starve yourself due to a lack of food of course.'' I thought with concealed bitterness as I replied to Sam in greeting. "Hey man, what did you do last night?"


    "Same old, same old. Studying, studying and even more studying. I swear at this point I might just flunk out of school on purpose. That would teach mother and father a lesson". He said with a slight sigh, joining in step with me to school the moment I reached him.


    I simply nodded my head in understanding, giving him a slight look of pity. As even though there were many things I was jealous of Sam for, his parents weren''t one of them. Both Mr and Mrs Rainwright were a mixture of supreme arrogance and harshness wrapped up into two tight packages. Both of them were highly acclaimed doctors and posher than the bloody queen of England, the standards they expected were nothing short of monstrous, to say the least. Sam was forced to spend the majority of his time after school studying despite the fact he was already one of the smartest kids in school. As well as practising one of those posh-sounding instruments I could never remember the name. Cello, maybe?


    We continued chatting casually as we walked, talking about what subjects we had today or any fresh drama we may have overheard to add to the already colossal mountain of existing rumours and drama. I mean the fact that Lucas was supposedly messaging Megan was somehow noteworthy was something I would never understand.


    The moment we got to school I looked around, squinting my eyes in the process, trying in vain to block the blinding light shining off the freshly woken sun that was peaking just above the horizon. Immediately, I noticed a lack of people currently mingling outside the front doors of the school and realised, with slight annoyance, that we must have arrived far earlier than I had expected.


    "Do you want to just walk around indoors for a bit while we wait for the first period?" Sam asked, no doubt having also noticed we had arrived far too early.


    "Sounds like a plan, anything to get out of this cold; I feel like a fucking ice sculpture in this weather," I complained just as a lone breeze made itself known, passing through and rattling deep into my bones.


    Sam responded with a hearty laugh "It''s not that cold you baby, I''m actually quite toasty all things considered. You probably should have put on a proper coat and not that hoodie you always wear."


    I flashed a strained smile as I politely laughed back, biting my tongue to once again not say anything I would later regret. I knew Sam didn''t mean anything by his comment, and in truth, there was nothing necessarily wrong with what he said. But it didn''t stop the ball of bitterness inside me from growing at seeing how warm he looked in his black designer parka. Reminding me just how different our lives truly were. Sam never had to worry about clothing or food. Thoughts that left me constantly filled with anxiety and stress.


    I shook my head, discarding my negative thoughts just as we entered the school and the sight of a long corridor entered my sight. The corridor spanned a tremendous length, painted in an ugly assortment of browns and pastel yellows that made one question the sanity of the decorator in charge. The walls themselves, besides the dark red doors that hosted the classrooms, were covered with posters and projects that I''m sure had never been read in the years they had been there.


    The corridor to my surprise and complete annoyance was absolutely packed. Clearly, Sam and I were not the only ones to think about hiding inside away from the cold. We walked down the corridors, meandering with no real destination in mind as we continued our inane chatter from before. However, that soon became difficult as I took in the surroundings and saw the looks and glances directed at both Sam and myself from the other students. Raising no question about who the constant whispers around us were about, the low-pitched murmuring attacking my senses and worsening my already poor mood and migraine.


    "I swear, do they have nothing better to do than stare at us like we''re animals in a fucking zoo?" I venomously spat, interrupting Sam in annoyance, unable to tamper down my anger.


    To say Sam and I were unpopular would be an understatement of a life time. The two of us were basically outcasts. Myself due to being the school pauper. The kid who lived with the bottom rung of society, who constantly looked malnourished and only a single push away from collapsing. Sam on the other hand for the simple fact that he hung out with me. If he didn''t I had no doubt he could have been one of the most popular blokes in school. What with his wealth, grades, kind attitude and annoyingly good looks. Just being next to him did wonders for my already low self-esteem, making it almost non-existent.


    Sam chuckled, completely at ease. As if the numerous stares had no effect on him. "It''s alright man, just ignore them. I swear you would think you''d have gotten used to them by now." He joked.


    Before I was able to offer a retort he quickly slapped me on the shoulder with a bit more force than really necessary. For someone who hated fighting as much as him, he really was far too strong; Just one more thing that he had that I could only dream about. When I looked at him in annoyance as I absently rubbed my shoulder I saw a lopsided smirk stretch across his face and his eyes alight with mirth.


    "Looky there. Doth my eyes deceive me or is that Helen standing over there?" he said in an irritatingly gleeful tone, pointing to our left-hand side.


    I quickly dragged my eyes over to the left, scanning the scattered groups around us and immediately regretting how eager I must have seemed. No doubt something I would inevitably be mocked for by Sam later. Suddenly, my attention was grabbed by the enriching sound of quiet laughter not too far away. Quickly my eyes found the source, a group of girls, three in total, standing together in a circle over ten metres away chatting and laughing.


    Instantly my eyes were drawn to the girl facing towards me in the centre of the three. A girl standing at around five foot four, not much smaller than myself, with wavy, chocolate brown hair that cascaded down to the middle of her back and bright hazel eyes. Eyes that always looked to be upturned in delight and accompanied with a grin stretched across her face. As if what was being said was the funniest thing in the world.


    As I none too subtle stared in her direction, as if she could feel my gaze, I was unexpectedly met with those hazel-covered eyes staring directly back. I stood frozen in shock and before I was even able to look away in panic I watched as her gorgeous eyes lit up with recognition. Immediately a smile appeared on her face, lighting it up in a way that had me totally entranced. I stared blankly in reply before a sharp elbow landed on my side, jolting me back to earth. I quickly smiled back, trying my hardest to seem as charming as possible and praying to god I didn''t look even half as stupid as I currently felt.


    Her smile seemed to widen even more, or at least I think it did. At that point, my brain had all but stopped working. So much so that I almost didn''t see the small wave she gave towards me. One which I numbly returned as I felt my face heat up, turning a bright red in embarrassment. Embarrassment over what? I wasn''t sure, but embarrassed I was nonetheless. It was in this embarrassed state that I noticed the amount of attention we had seemed to draw. The stares and buzzing of whispers  even louder than before and setting me into a panic.


    Rapidly I spun around and began all but jogging away. Not even caring to see whether Sam had followed me or not. It was only once I turned the corner and I knew I was out of sight of the majority of the crowd that I started to slow down, taking a slow deep breath as I did so in an attempt to squash my rising panic.


    "Hey, man! Why did you just run away like that? She waved at you! You should go back and talk to her. This is your chance!" Sam exclaimed in excitement as he caught up to me, nudging his shoulder into mine.


    "Not a chance! I can''t just walk back after running away from her like that. I probably already seem like a weirdo. I''m not about to go make it any worse." I let loose a loud sigh as I looked up towards the ceiling, hating myself for suddenly running away in panic like a coward.


    "Why did you walk away?" he asked again in confusion, clearly a bit puzzled by my actions.


    "I don''t know! I just panicked, I guess." I yelled angrily, drawing more glances towards both Sam and me. Though this time I was far too angry to care. Not angry at Sam mind you, not even the surrounding crowd. No, I was angry at myself, for ruining my chance to talk to Helen.


    Sam, seeing I was upset paused for a second before clapping me on the back comfortingly. "There''s always next time. And hey, for what it''s worth, from my point of view she looked interested. Maybe you actually have a chance after all." He said encouragingly, trying to lighten the sombre tone that had ensnared me. Something I was truly thankful for.


    Suddenly, out of nowhere, a loud screeching sound rang through the halls at such a volume as to almost deafen all those who heard it. Yet not a single person looked even the slightest bit surprised, simply resigned. Hearing the ear-shattering volume of the school bell commencing the start of the school day everyone sluggishly began to march and trudge their way towards their first class. Sam and I being no different, headed towards our classroom for the first class of the day, history.

 Chapter 2

    ¡®What a joy¡¯ I thought with resignation. It was just my luck to have it first thing in the morning every Tuesday.


    When it came to history the two of us had never gotten along. No matter how hard I tried I just couldn''t get myself interested. I mean, everything we learnt about had already happened. What was the point of learning about it now? It was over with.


    Sam and I soon arrived at our class after only a couple of minutes, having already been nearby when the bell first rang. We quickly took our seats in our usual bright blue plastic chairs that surrounded the far left table. Our backs pressed against one of the murky yellow walls covered with information about certain historical events that I had never bothered to read. As we sat down and I got my books and pens out of my bag a sudden sense of vertigo smashed through me.


    The room started to spin around me, slowly picking up speed and soon followed by as sense of nausea that grew stronger and stronger. I shut my eyes tightly, a groan leaving my throat as I forcibly tried to shut out my surroundings. Just as I felt I was at my limit, with no other option than to throw up the pitiful amount of food I still had stored in my stomach from yesterday, through my closed eyes, I felt my surroundings start to slow down, along with the apparent nausea that came with it.


    After waiting a couple of seconds, focusing on my breathing to ensure my stomach was under control, I opened my eyes. The moment I did so I was blinded by the luminescent lights that hung from above, their constant buzzing seeming even louder than usual and worsening my pounding migraine. I looked around, seeing if anyone had noticed my bizarre episode. Thankfully no one did. Wiping a hand across my forehead and hair, I noticed a thin layer of sweat that had built up across it despite the biting cold I had felt all morning.


    ¡°Hey, you alright? You look a little peaky?¡± I turned to my side to see Sam looking towards me in worry.


    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m fine. I think I¡¯m just a little ill. Probably got a cold or flu or something. Just my luck, huh.¡± I shrugged nonchalantly, suddenly filled with a sense of exhaustion that replaced the previous nausea and vertigo.


    Sam simply peered at me with an unblinking stare for what felt like a lifetime in response. His mouth drew into a thin line and his eyebrows scrunched so tight they were almost touching. As if trying to figure out if I was telling the truth. Apparently satisfied with his findings, his features eventually relaxed.


    ¡°If you''re sure. Just make sure to stay the hell away from me. No need for you to drag me down with you.¡± He joked, leaning back away and avoiding the swat I had aimed at his shoulder.


    I smiled back, amused at his antics before continuing to bring out all my stationary, doing my best to ignore how awful I was already starting to feel once again while waiting for the teacher, Mr Walker, to arrive. Which he did only a couple of minutes later, bringing to a start the worst lesson I had ever had to sit through.


    As I mentioned, history was already my least favourite subject, followed closely by geography and maths. Add to that a constant banging headache that seemed to worsen with Mr Walker¡¯s inane rambling and a sense of nausea that seemed to come and go like the passing of the tide and you can imagine how awful I felt. By the end of the lesson, as Sam and I were getting ready to head to our next class, I truly felt like I was dying. And with the way Sam was looking at me, I probably looked like it too.


    ¡°Mate you should really go get yourself checked out. You look like you''re dying,¡± he stated, right on cue. ¡°If your skin was any paler it would look translucent.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be alright, I¡¯ll just power through till the end of the day. I can''t imagine I can get much worse.¡± I said dismissively and with an amount of confidence, I didn¡¯t truly feel.


    As if planned beforehand, I felt the sudden build-up of a cough in the centre of my chest start to form before it was fiercely ejected a few seconds later. My breathing shortened and a dull ache started to grow in strength in my chest with each sickening wheeze and hack I was forced to let out, leaving my throat feeling raw and scarred. In my debilitated state, I tried to quieten the noise with the crux of my arm but had no such luck, unable to block the repugnant noises I released that could no doubt be heard from outside the classroom.


    This carried on for what felt like minutes but couldn¡¯t have been more than one. By the end, my throat was burning in agony and my lungs were screaming for respite. The metallic taste of blood made itself known at the back of my throat, the taste growing in strength with each cough.


    As the phlegm-filled wheezes finally started to slow, I took a series of short, shallow breaths, doing my best to not agitate my lungs further. Once I finally managed to calm down I looked back up through teary eyes to see Sam, half out of his seat, looking at me in worry.


    ¡°Really I¡¯m fine. Like I said, I¡¯m just ill. I¡¯ll probably be better by lunch.¡± I whispered, my voice raspy and grated.


    It didn¡¯t take a genius to see Sam didn¡¯t quite share my level of confidence. He went to open his mouth before deciding against it as he reluctantly went back to grabbing his stationary and bag with a shake of his head, muttering something under his breath. The words stubborn and fool were the only ones I heard.


    Fast forward two more lessons later, double mathematics to be specific, and I realised how wrong I was. The constant cold that had sunk into my bones seemed to have doubled in strength to a glacial chill, causing my body to be incapable of anything but shivering erratically despite having sat down directly by the radiator. The migraine too had blown in proportion, making any sound above a whisper equivalent to a jackhammer; not ideal in a school environment to say the least. I felt as if I was becoming delirious, which when mixed with the occasional bouts of vertigo made my surroundings feel almost dream-like.


    By the time the class was coming to a close, my head was resting firmly against the solid wood table as I counted the seconds until it would be over. Letting out a cheer in celebration when I heard the bell screech once more, signifying the start of lunch. Or at least I would have if it didn¡¯t almost knock me out in the process. As I sat there, motionless, Sam had to all but drag me out of my chair. His arm wrapped around my waist, allowing me to lean on him for support as we headed to the cafeteria for lunch. It was times like these when I could have sworn he was an angel in disguise.


    ¡°That''s it, I''m not asking anymore. You''re going to go to the nurses pronto, if not the hospital. You¡¯re starting to get me bloody worried mate.¡± he said seriously, no longer in the mood for jokes.


    Usually, I would have simply declined. Instead heading back home to rest by myself until whatever I had eventually passed, having always hated asking for or receiving help, even from qualified medical personnel. However, with the way I felt I was starting to think that this might have been something a tad more serious than just the common flu.


    ¡°You''re right,¡± I mumbled as I stared at the moving floor beneath me. ¡°I¡¯ll go to the nurses. But first let''s go to the cafeteria. I really need to get some food in me. I haven¡¯t eaten since yesterday.¡±


    As I did my best to control my breathing, which was still coming out in short rapid bursts, I could tell that Sam wanted to argue. Although based on the fact we soon changed directions and started heading towards the cafeteria I assumed he agreed that I needed to eat.


    We entered the cafeteria with surprising ease, everyone around us giving us plenty of space, along with a handful of wary glances as if I was somehow carrying a deadly plague. Although, with how I felt that couldn¡¯t be ruled out as a possibility. Sam, in a surprising feat of dexterity and strength, grabbed both of us a lunch tray while still all but carrying me, filling them up quickly as we marched along in sync with the rest of the student body. Who monotonously marched forward through the line as if they were zombies.


    Once we received our food, which with a glance seemed to be an attempt at a cottage pie. We looked around, searching for a free table. A difficult task with how small the school had decided to make the cafeteria. A room that seemed to only be able to fit half the student body at a time. Thankfully, it seemed my luck was finally turning around as we, or more specifically Sam, was able to spot a free table near the far end wall. A table that was as far away as possible from the entrance that continued to spew forward an almost indefinite number of students.


    As we sat down, or slumped in my case, I looked towards the lunch tray Sam set delicately in front of me. Immediately I realised how terrible this idea might have been. Even on a good day the idea of a school lunch did nothing but evoke resignation and disappointment, an impressive feat saying it was usually the only meal I actually ate in a day. However, when ill, all I felt when staring towards the gruel-like meal placed before me was a mixture of revulsion and dread.


    While I stared in disgust at the substance the school dared to call food, pushing it around from side to side with my fork, a loud sigh came from in front carrying a tinge of annoyance. ¡°Adam, I swear to god. Stop acting like a petulant child and eat, you need the nutrients and energy.¡±


    ¡°Whatever you say, mum.¡± I drawled sarcastically, ¡°Don¡¯t blame me then when it comes back up and I aim myself towards that precious coat of yours¡±.


    ¡°Eat.¡±


    Knowing he was right I let out a depressed sigh, steeling my nerves while I did so in preparation to try and keep this food down, a herculean task. I ate with a focus I rarely displayed, as if my very life was on the life; which it basically was. My social life that was. If I threw up in front of almost the entire school then I would literally become a social pariah, even more so than I already was.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    As I got halfway through, feeling worse and worse with each methodical bite I took, and prepared to call it quits, I heard a voice echo from behind me and pass through the dense fog my mind was currently surrounded by. A snide, obnoxious voice that I knew all too well. Reluctantly I turned around, facing the group of three who stood only a few metres away. Specifically the teenager who stood in the centre with a mocking smirk hanging on his face.


    ¡°Well, well, well, look who we have here. If it isn¡¯t the prince and the pauper. I thought I could smell you all the way back here.¡± His voice boomed to the two other students flanking his side, garnering the attention of the surrounding students in the process. His smirk which was plastered onto his face growing wider as he did so.


    ¡°Piss off Matthew. Do you really have nothing better to do with your fucking time!¡± Sam swore angrily. Something that due to his family he rarely did.


    ¡°Come now Samael¡± Matthew responded, knowing just how much Sam hated his full name. ¡°Is that any way for a posh boy like you to speak? Better be careful, wouldn¡¯t want to get any blood on your designer clothes now would you?¡±


    At this point, thanks to the volume at which Matthew spoke, the majority of the people in the cafeteria had now shifted their attention towards us. Something which only seemed to spur Matthew''s actions further. Showcased in how he slammed his palm down hard against the metal table, worsening my headache and making me wince in pain. Something that wasn¡¯t hidden from Matthews'' narrowed eyes.


    ¡°What''s the matter? Is little Adam not feeling too well? Does the lil baby need a nap?¡° The condescension dripped from each word he spoke, trying to rile me up and doing a damn good job in doing so.


    At this point, everyone in the cafeteria was looking this way. Looking on in amusement at what was taking place with many openly laughing along with Matthew. I felt my face begin to heat up, which if not for the embarrassment and anger surging within me would have been a welcome change to the freezing cold I had felt all day.


    I stared towards him in rage, seeing his solid frame leaning down from above my seated position, looking down on me in mockery with that smug smile on his lips. My height being one of my biggest insecurities was something Matthew knew all too well and something he mocked me for at any chance he got. Just like Sam, I had known Matthew since we were young back at the nursery, with him being just as much of a prick back then as he was now, bullying and tormenting Sam at every chance he got. Back then Matthew and I would fight almost every day, finding any excuse possible to do so. Sometimes we would not even bother to do that.


    Unfortunately, as we got older the difference in our sizes and strength became more and more apparent. Until it got to a point where I was no longer able to even put up a decent fight against him, let alone win. Since then I had tried my best to avoid Matthew as much as possible, which seemed to have only made him even more insufferable as the years went on.


    ¡°Fuck off Matt, don¡¯t you have anything better to do? Like I don¡¯t know, trying to pass a single fucking subject, you dense piece of shit!¡± I said in anger, clenching my teeth agonisingly hard as my migraine doubled in strength from the volume of my voice.


    To everyone else, Matthew seemed unaffected by my retort, bored even. However, if you looked closely you would notice the way his eyes narrowed even further or the way his veins along his neck seemed to pulse in intensity. After all, just like he knew my weaknesses, I knew his. For instance, his insecurities over his failing grades.


    ¡°Of course, you would respond with such vulgarity. Although I don¡¯t know what I expected from filthy street trash like you. Street trash just like your father.¡± Mathew loudly spoke, knowing the perfect way to further anger me.


    ¡°Shut the fuck up you prick!¡± I raged, feeling the veins in my face pulse with heat as I slammed against the table. Too angry to notice the mountain of pain that extended from my hand and up my arm. An action that, while made a few students jump in shock, left Matthew completely unbothered.


    ¡°Look at that temper. I mean it makes sense you''ve got such a temper. After all, if I grew up with that drunk you call a father I would be pissed at the world as well. Honestly, your mother got lucky. At least in death she managed to get away.¡±


    A pin drop could be heard in the silence that followed his vicious mocking. Yet only after a few moments sniggers and quiet laughter could be heard from all around, with more and more joining in each second before a dam seemed to have been broken and the room burst in noise. The majority of which was a symphony of laughs directed at me with Matthew and his gang of followers at the forefront.


    All I wanted to do at that moment was throw myself at Matthew. To swing and thrash as hard as I could and wipe that sneer from across his face. Yet I didn¡¯t. While I¡¯ve always had a temper I was never dumb. Even as a kid I always knew what the consequences of my actions were going to be. It was just at the time I simply did not bother to care. Not this time, I knew what would happen if we fought, what with Matthew standing almost a foot taller with at least twenty kilograms on me. Most of which was hard, dense muscle, one of the benefits of being on the football team. So I just sat there, seething as the surrounding students all looked on in excitement at Matthews¡¯s cruel remarks, enjoying the entertainment before them.


    ¡®Coward.¡¯ A voice inside my head spat in disgust, ''Don¡¯t pretend you''re being smart. You''re just scared. Afraid of getting hurt and being embarrassed.'' The voice remarked with vitriol.


    I tried to deny it, to block out that inner voice. But in truth, I knew it was right. I was scared. For a second I wondered when it happened. When I had stopped fighting back, allowing pricks like Matthew to insult my father and simply accept it without complaint.


    It was at that moment, as I looked around the cafeteria and the many faces that encircled me, all reflecting a mixture of mirth and cruel amusement, that I saw her. Helen. Near the edge of the circling crowd along with her friends. Standing out from the sea of excited faces with a blank expression, her eyes boring towards me with unbridled focus, as if burning a hole straight through me. Seeing that my crush was witnessing this entire humiliation display, my embarrassment, which I thought couldn¡¯t get any higher, seemed to skyrocket.


    I felt sick to my stomach and not just because of the illness. It was at that moment that the embarrassment I felt seemed to overtake my fear, causing me to make a rash decision. To decide to fight back, regardless of the consequences.


    Just as the laughter soon died down and Matthew seemed prepared to insult me further, never one to miss a chance to kick someone when they¡¯re down, I slammed my palms against the table. I rose to a sudden stand, using my hands to help keep my balance from the onrush of vertigo I received from such an action. Everyone froze in shock, the onlookers in the crowd, Sam who had been preparing to jump to my defence, and of course Matthew. Who¡¯s expression was warped into one of bewilderment, clearly not having expected such a move.


    As I stood to my full height my migraine only increased in intensity, forcing me to stifle a groan and almost collapse back down in pain. Along with that, my vision began to blur and shake, with everything I saw covered in moving dots of black and grey. I ignored it all. Too lost in my rage. Instead, I directed my attention back towards Matthew, the smirk back on his face.


    ¡®Not for long.¡¯ I thought maliciously.


    ¡°It¡¯s funny that you would want to talk about parents,¡± I suddenly said, grabbing everyone''s attention. ¡°I mean, how many men has your whore of a mother slept with now? Sixteen? Seventeen? It¡¯s almost impressive how big of a slut she is. She must have fucked at least half the blokes in town. Although it¡¯s not like your dad¡¯s any better. Didn''t he get arrested by the police for causing a disturbance at that brothel in the town centre only a couple of months ago?¡±


    Immediately the laughter of everyone around us that had just begun to die down came back with a vengeance. Only this time it was no longer directed towards me. Matthew¡¯s face froze in surprise once more before realisation set in over what I said. Instantly his face turned a bright red as his body began to shake and he had his fists clenched by his side, as if ready to attack at any moment.


    ¡°You son of a bitch!¡± He yelled, his voice no longer containing any signs of mockery or cruel enjoyment. ¡°Let''s fucking go! Unless you''re too much of a pussy to actually fight me¡±


    He backed away from the table and moved towards the open area a couple of metres away. The surrounding students shuffling away while still keeping an enclosed circle around us. ¡°Come on then! It¡¯s too late to back out now!¡± He impatiently yelled.


    Knowing there was no way out, at least not without destroying any semblance of pride I still possessed, I meandered away from the bench, doing my best to stay steady on my feet. While I did so Sam came up beside me. Able to get out of his seat at a much quicker pace than I did.


    ¡°Don¡¯t do this Adam.¡± He whispered urgently into my ear. ¡°You look like shit! As if you could get knocked out by a gust of wind. If you fight him he¡¯s going to kill you!¡± As I turned to face him I saw the look of panic etched on his face.


    ¡°I don''t have a choice. And who knows, maybe I can get a lucky punch or something.¡± I whispered back, my sudden surge of confidence already starting to crumble as feelings of terror started to surface about what was to come.


    Before he could reply I walked past him towards Matthew, looking past the crowd in the hopes of finding a teacher or someone of authority to put a stop to this fight. But it seemed my luck was just as rotten as usual, seeing none in sight. Instead, my eyes were instantly drawn to where Helen stood, still along the edge of the crowd. As our eyes met I saw her flash a small smile that didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes. I looked back towards Matthew, doing my best to focus on anything but how I felt, how every part of my body was screaming in pain and fatigue with each step I took. As if I had already been in a fight moments prior. One I had resoundingly lost.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to regret talking so much shit¡± Matthew spat vehemently, his anger once more replaced with a sick sense of amusement and cockiness. No doubt already imagining how this fight would conclude.


    I simply shook my head, unable to even speak in fear of losing the small amount of food I had previously eaten. Seeing that nothing more was going to be said, we both raised our fists in preparation. One thing I noticed was how at ease he seemed to appear and how awkward I felt. What with it being many years since I had last gotten into a fight. The atmosphere stilled. A sense of apprehension settled over the crowd as everyone waited for the fight to start. At this point my head was screaming in pain, clouding all of my other senses with my vision fading rapidly, leaving me struggling to see even half a metre in front.


    Suddenly Matthew took a quick step forward, his arm swinging towards the side of my head in what felt like an instant. In my foggy state, I attempted to step back but found my feet were far too sluggish, tangling themselves together and forcing me into a stumble. Allowing me to only barely dodge the punch Matthew threw. Seeing the first punch had missed Matthew showed no surprise, merely taking another step forward to close the distance, his arms still held high and strong in front of him. Creating an intimidating figure though I was loathed to admit it.


    Realising I was screwed if I didn¡¯t even attempt to fight back I threw my left arm out widely. No technique or style to be seen with it looking more like a mad flail than any kind of punch. However, it seemed even that was simply too much for my body to handle as not even one second later my body seemed to lose all its strength, causing me to collapse like a puppet without its strings. The last thing I saw before I fell into oblivion, through the searing pain and my blurring, twisting vision was Sam rushing towards me in panic, breaking through the row of spectators seemingly oblivious to his frantic movements. That and Matthew who dodged my pathetic attempt of a punch and closed in, swinging his arm once again towards me. Only this time I was unable to dodge. Then, just as I saw his fist get closer and closer until it overtook my entire vision, it all went black.

 Chapter 3

    The first thing I heard as I slowly awoke was the sound of high-pitched beeping coming from my right-hand side, along with the quiet chattering of people off in the distance. Quickly I realised that I was lying down on what felt like a bed, or a poor imitation of one at least based on the stiff pain I could currently feel along my back and everywhere else for that matter. I slowly opened my eyes with excruciating effort. At least I tried to before I was immediately blinded by a bright glaring light that shone directly into my eyes and forced my eyes closed once again. As I shut out the pain-inducing light before me and struggled to regain my vision I tried to come to grips with what had happened; my mind incredibly jumbled from having just woken up.


    I lurched forward suddenly as the memories of what had just taken place that day, or what I thought was that day, came rushing back. A decision I Immediately regretted as my body proceeded to scream in gut-wrenching pain, making what had happened with the light seem almost pleasant in comparison. My bones creaked like rusty hinges and what muscles I had cramped erratically, leading to even the smallest movement to feel as if they were tearing themselves apart. The sudden movement also led to the return of that bone-drilling migraine at full force, almost making me lose consciousness once again. The only positive was the disappearance of the dreary bone-chilling cold that had followed me all morning like a haunting ghost, allowing me to bask in the small amount of warmth the so-called bed provided.


    I stayed silent, unmoving, allowing the pain and agony to continuously wash over me in relentless attack before it slowly started to recede. As the pain went away and I let out a shaky breath in relief, my vision also began to return, adjusting to the glaring light present in the room. Once it did I looked around, noticing the pristine-looking room before me. The bed, the walls and the floor were all squeaky clean and an eye-blinding white, the only hint of colour being the pastel blue ceiling, breaking up the monotonous-looking room.


    However, it was only when I looked to my right, trying to locate the source of that constant beeping that hadn¡¯t stopped since I awoke, that I realised where I was. Beside me stood an old-looking machine, standing a bit lower than head height and looking like a miniature TV, displaying a series of numbers that constantly fluctuated with one of them appearing to be my heart rate.


    ¡®Looks like Sam was right after all.¡¯ I thought jokingly to myself, remembering how worried and urgent he felt that I needed to go get checked out. Which it seemed I inadvertently ended up doing, though I wasn¡¯t exactly sure how.


    While I continued scanning my surroundings, observing the grey and white wires from the heart rate monitor that snaked towards me and under my old grey hoodie, I noticed a small bright red button connected to the wall behind me. A button that stood out in the sea of otherwise blandness. Upon closer inspection, I realised it to be a call button, used to get a nurse''s attention. I pressed it promptly, possessing a myriad of questions and in dire need of some answers. Less than a minute later the wooden door to the room was pushed open as a cheery middle-aged nurse hustled through, smiling towards me in greeting.


    ¡°Hello deary, it¡¯s good to see you awake! How are you feeling? Is anything uncomfortable? Do you want anything to eat? I¡¯ll go and get Dr. Soren for you now alrighty?¡± Like a whirlwind, she came and left in a blur, giving me zero chance to respond to any of her questions before vacating the room.


    After barely a minute more the door was once again opened but instead of being greeted by the enthusiastic nurse from before, it was instead an older man. A man who looked to be in his early fifties with dark black hair and the occasional white strand peppered throughout, primarily around the sides. He also had pale blue eyes, shown clearly through a pair of large circular glasses he wore. A small, calming smile graced his lip as he steadily walked towards me.


    ¡°Ah! Good evening Mr. Collins. How are you feeling? Any aches or pains?¡±


    ¡°Uhh, I think I¡¯m alright,¡± I answered dumbly as I went to sit myself up, grunting in pain from the use of my arms. ¡°Actually I feel like shit if I¡¯m being honest. I feel like I¡¯ve just been hit by a truck.¡± As I spoke I felt a dull pain spread across my face and that seemed to originate from my jaw. Tentatively, I reached my hand towards my jaw and with a start felt the swollen mess it had somehow become.


    Dr Soren, seeing the confusion on my swollen face, replied. ¡°From what the paramedics told me when you arrived it seemed you had gotten into a nasty fight and received a heavy punch to the face. I¡¯m afraid your jaw is going to be swollen for at least a few days.¡±


    Hearing this I released a sigh, realising that the punch I saw from Matthew right before I collapsed must have connected.¡°Just my luck.¡± I muttered as I tentatively rubbed my jaw. ¡°Well, at least it¡¯s not like my day could get any worse.¡± I said jokingly, looking back towards the doctor.


    Dr. Soren didn¡¯t look back. His face was impassive and his eyes downcast. Reflecting a sense of sadness that immediately put me on edge as I felt a growing ball of apprehension in the pit of my stomach. A ball that only grew bigger as he eventually turned back towards me and spoke in a sombre tone.


    ¡°Mr Collins, There is no easy way to tell you this but I¡¯m afraid I have some terrible news.¡± My blood froze. My knuckles an ashen white from how hard I was gripping the blanket underneath. Nevertheless, The doctor continued, ¡°We ran some tests while you were asleep and we believe you to be suffering from something known as ¡®chronic obstructive pulmonary disease¡¯. Or COPD for short.¡±


    Time seemed to freeze as I sat there in shock, staring towards the doctor. Waiting, praying for him to say he was messing around. That this was all just a big joke. Yet as the silence drew on, the only sound able to be heard being the rapid beeping of the heart rate monitor beside me, I realised he was serious.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand. What does that actually mean?¡± I asked, unable to keep the quiver out of my voice. A sense of worry filled me, as even despite never hearing of it before, I could tell just from the name, and the serious expression the doctor wore, it wasn¡¯t anything good.


    Without even giving the doctor a chance to respond I continued speaking in a panicked frenzy. ¡°This must be some kind of mistake. I just have a regular cold. It doesn¡¯t make any sense. You must have made a mistake!¡± My voice grew in strength, becoming a shrill yell by the end and drowning out all other noise in the room.


    Dr. Soren began speaking as he walked towards me with apprehension. Yet whatever he said I couldn¡¯t hear a word, the sound of my heart drumming and my blood pumping overpowering his voice. I felt the pain in my chest return with a vengeance as my breathing became short and sharp, leaving me gasping for air. I don¡¯t know how long I stayed in that state of panic, only coming out of it when I felt a pair of hands firmly grasp each of my shoulders, pausing the slight rocking I had inadvertently been doing. I looked upwards to the source, making eye contact with a pair of solemn icy blue eyes.


    ¡°Adam, I¡¯m so sorry.¡± The doctor whispered, forsaking the use of my last name, not like I even realised. A silence descended upon the room as I just sat there in shock, still unable to process what I had been told.


    Dr. Soren continued to look on in sadness before beginning to speak once again. Answering the questions I had asked in my state of panic.


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid there is no mistake Adam. We ran the tests multiple times just to confirm and you do appear to be suffering from chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. A disease that primarily affects and deteriorates your lungs and chest and can lead to a weakened immune system. Something that has no doubt contributed to the worsened effects of the cold you are also suffering from.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re wrong! How would I even get this disease? I¡¯m only fucking 17!¡± I all but screamed back, finding my voice once again as I continued to vehemently deny what I had already started to realise was the truth.


    ¡°There are many different causes for this disease. Such as genetics, smoking or inhalation of certain fumes and chemicals. Although in most cases, people suffering from COPD won¡¯t show symptoms until their late 40''s. However, from the scans we procured, it appears the damage to your lungs is extensive, far more than should be even possible for a person your age.¡±


    As he finished talking his eyes narrowed as he scanned me from head to toe in concentration, looking at me in question. He did this for what felt like minutes, leaving me feeling like a lab rat. ¡°I have to ask.¡± He eventually said, his eyes returning back to normal. ¡°And I hope you will be honest with me but I need to know how you could have possibly damaged your lungs to such an effect. Do you smoke?¡±


    ¡°No. Never.¡± I replied in outrage. While I had no shame in admitting I wasn¡¯t the healthiest person to ever live, having no issue with junk food or alcohol. Smoking was one of the only things I would never do. Especially not after what had happened with my mother.


    ¡°Cigarettes are far too expensive¡± I joked, or at least attempted to, not wanting to tell him the true reason.


    ¡°Then maybe secondhand smoke?¡± He asked himself before promptly shutting down the idea ¡°No, that wouldn¡¯t have been able to cause this much lasting damage so quickly.¡± He looked up towards the ceiling, clearly lost in thought. ¡°Have you ever been around welding fumes or certain dust, such as cadmium or coal dust for a long period of time?¡±


    I was about to immediately decline, knowing I had never been anywhere remotely near where those fumes could be present. However, before I could, I suddenly remembered. Remembered the constant oxygen-depriving smog that covered the sky around where I lived. The persistent presence of smoke, smoke that clouded my vision both indoors and out. The smell of sulphur and chemicals that clung to everything I owned.


    ¡°I¡¯m guessing that''s a yes then?¡± Dr. Soren asked, seeing my reaction. I numbly nodded my head.


    Both his calm demeanour and explanation throughout the whole ordeal seemed to have taken the wind out of my sails as I fell back down onto the bed. Looking once more at the bright lights up above, staring blankly as my mind tried to process all that had happened.


    After what felt like a lifetime I looked back towards the doctor, all the strength and anger I once held disappeared, leaving me blank and empty. ¡°What does this mean then? Is it permanent? Am I going to have to stay in the hospital for the rest of my life?¡± I all but whispered in worry, my throat as dry as a desert, leaving my voice a scratchy mess.


    Dr. Soren simply stood there, his calm demeanour slipping to one of both sadness and pity. ¡°From the damage already done to your lungs and the nature of the disease, the most we will be able to do is try and slow the speed of any further damage that takes place. But I¡¯m afraid that''s all we can do.¡±


    As the words registered in my ears, I continued to stare blankly upwards at the ceiling, feeling large droplets of tears form in the corner of my eyes and begin to cascade down the sides of my face. I let loose an array of painful chokes as I all but broke down at the unspoken words of the doctor that rattled inside my brain. I was going to die.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    After what felt like an eternity, with no more tears able to be shed and the unwiped trails they left dried on my face, I looked back to Dr. Soren who had stood there the entire time in silence, giving me time to come to terms with all I had learnt. Something which I was nowhere close to doing.


    ¡°How long do I have left?¡±


    If Dr. Soren was surprised by the bluntness of my question, he didn''t show it. ¡°If you stayed here at the hospital¡­ maybe four to five months. However, if you decide to be look after at home you¡¯re looking closer to three.¡± He stated.


    ¡°I see.¡±


    ¡°I can understand that this is a lot to process and I can¡¯t imagine what you must be feeling at this moment. If you would like, why don¡¯t you take tonight to think things over and consider how you want to proceed from here? I will just go and give your emergency contact a call and inform them that you''re here.¡±


    As he turned around and started heading towards the door, I quickly jumped up, eliciting a painful hiss as I agitated my injured body in the process. ¡°Wait, stop!¡± I shouted, waving my arms in a wild manner in panic. ¡°Please don¡¯t call my dad, he uhh, can''t afford to leave work early.¡±


    The moment the words left my mouth I knew it was a piss-poor attempt at an excuse. A sentiment the doctor shared if the confusion and scepticism portrayed on his face were anything to go by. While we did have money issues it wasn¡¯t as if my dad leaving a few hours early was going to bankrupt us both. The real reason I didn¡¯t want him to inform my dad was simple, I just didn¡¯t want anybody to know, not even my dad. At least not until I had fully come to terms with what it meant and everything it entailed.


    Dr. Soren, clearly not sure how to proceed, cautiously replied. ¡°I¡¯m afraid that If you''re staying the night we have no other choice but to inform your emergency contact due to you not yet being eighteen years of age. Hospital policy I¡¯m afraid.¡±


    Realising that he was most likely telling the truth I let loose a sigh, knowing that if I didn¡¯t want my dad to know I only had one option. ¡°Then I won¡¯t stay the night.¡± I proclaimed as I immediately began trying to escape the confines of the bed.


    Following up on my statement before he even had a chance to respond. ¡°You said yourself that it doesn¡¯t matter whether I stay here or go back home. That I¡¯m going to die regardless. If that¡¯s the case then I choose home.¡±


    As I continued my struggle, feeling a growing hatred for whoever wrapped me up so tightly in this bed, Dr. Soren took a step closer, his hands once again reaching down to my shoulders and stopping my movements. ¡°I understand this is a lot of information to process, especially in such a short amount of time. Information that no one deserves to receive. And I know that you''re panicking, but you need to try and stay calm.¡±


    He paused for a moment, making sure I wasn¡¯t going to continue a hasty escape. Seeing that I wasn¡¯t, he moved his hands away, taking a step back before continuing. ¡°In my personal opinion, as your doctor, you should stay the night. Not only to think about how you want to proceed in the coming months but also so we can monitor your condition. After all, the flu in your system that worsened your symptoms hasn¡¯t yet entirely left.¡±


    Knowing that he wasn¡¯t going to let me leave easily without first thinking it through, I tried to calm my frantic heart which had been beating like a hummingbird¡¯s wing for so long that the heart rate monitor was almost releasing one consistent beep. Once it finally went down to a, if not slow, at least manageable level, I took a minute to think about what he said and recommended before coming to a decision.


    ¡°No. Thank you for the offer but I really don¡¯t want my dad to know about all this at the moment. And in truth, right now, all I want is to be as far away from here as possible.¡± I said, flashing a small but shaky smile.


    He let out a long sigh in defeat, seeing that I wasn¡¯t going to be changing my mind anytime soon. ¡°Alright, if you want to leave then you can do so but please think about staying here for treatment. Even though the damage isn¡¯t reversible, we can still slow down the spread of said damage and extend your life expectancy by almost double.¡±


    ¡°I will'''' I said quickly before I all but jumped out the bed, ignoring the pain such an action caused.


    I pulled off the straps of the heart rate monitor still attached and rushed to collect all my belongings that were placed by the side of my bed, wanting nothing more than to be gone from the hospital as soon as possible. Once I had collected everything I went to rush out of the room. However, before I could even get past the door Dr. Soren drew my attention once more, having one last thing left to say.


    ¡°Adam, no matter what decision you make, be sure to come back in a couple of days. I have some medication I want to prescribe you that can help lessen the damage to your lungs. I should be able to get it ordered by then.¡±


    At that point, I was barely listening, too focused on just getting away. Shouting a confirmation as well as a goodbye I jogged past Dr. Soren and through the door into the long, white hallways of the hospital. All I could focus on was leaving the hospital and being alone, so much so that I wasn¡¯t sure if Dr. Soren had even said a farewell back. As I ran all I could feel was the beating of my heart, a beating so strong that it felt as if my heart would leap out of my chest at any second. The sound of blood rushed through my ears in tandem with my pumping heart, overpowering any sound or chatter of the people cluttering the hallways. I followed every twist and turn of the halls. Each one an exact copy of the last giving the illusion that I was trapped, lost in a sterile white maze with no way out.


    Just as I felt my anxiety start to peak and my vision began to blur, after one last turn through the halls, I entered the hospital''s entrance, spotting the main entrance doors not too far in front. My jogging pace immediately turned into a full-blown sprint at the sight of my goal. I charged forward, accidentally barging into a few disgruntled people in the process before, with a leap, I smashed through the front doors of the hospital. Immediately as I stepped into the outside world I was hit by the cool evening wind that blew past. I quickly took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh, chilling air, the smell of the fresh grass replacing the sterile scent that overpowered my senses prior.


    Now that I was outside I slowly started to calm down. My tight bundle of nerves slowly loosened as I stared out at the darkening sky. A sky covered with a multitude of dark blue and purple clouds, slowly rolling across the horizon unimpeded, striking a sense of envy and longing within me for reasons I couldn¡¯t explain.


    It was then, giving one last glance to the hospital behind me, than I began walking forward, my pace slow and carefree as I moved with no destination in mind. My mind was blank, my only thoughts revolving around my immediate surroundings and deciding which direction I should take. This lasted for what felt like hours. Until, finally, I came to a stop, finding myself in an unfamiliar area at the top of a grassy hill, the grass a bright green even in the darkened surroundings. On top of which a great oak tree stood, steady and tall at the centre of the hill. Nearby the edge of a lazily flowing stream could be seen, the sound of the flowing water releasing a soothing song. I looked around once more, the sky now thoroughly dark with only a few scant sightings of starlight held within and the streets all but deserted except for the rare passerby rushing along.


    I sat down upon the hill, uncaring towards the grass stains that would inevitably be found upon my trousers, and stared towards the spilling river, getting lost in the mesmerising flow the water followed. As I stared ahead I finally allowed myself time to think, to truly think about my situation and what it meant. To think about my death. Tears quickly started to pour out the moment I did, running down my face like the river along the bank. Unable to keep everything bottled up, I released a string of screams and wails into the nighttime air that travelled miles in all directions.


    While I continued releasing all my rage and sadness, I couldn¡¯t stop thinking about the unfairness of it all. ¡®Why? Why did this have to be me? Have I not suffered enough? Been through enough fucking shit already? Is this punishment for something I did in a past life? What could I have possibly fucking done to deserve this kind of fucked up life?¡¯


    Feeling the pit of burning rage within me growing with every thought I had I quickly stood up, turning towards the magnificent oak tree to my right before exploding into a fit of violence. Instantly I released a flurry of punches at the bark of the tree, too blinded by my anger to feel the onset of tears and spasms in my muscles. It was only after what must have been a couple of minutes, when I finally came to a stop and bent over gasping for air from exhaustion, that I looked at the blood-covered knuckles of my hands and felt a sudden rush of pain wash over me. Cries of agony rushed out my throat as I collapsed into a shuddering ball under the evergreen leaves of the oak tree. Yet I greeted such a feeling with sick delight, happy for the welcome distraction it provided me, wanting to keep my mind away from the unavoidable truth of my upcoming death.


    After I had laid down curled up in a ball for close to an hour in a catatonic state, no longer able to weep for my tears had run dry, I slowly sat up; making sure to do so carefully with both my blood-torn hands. A freezing wind blew across my skin making me hiss in pain when it came into contact with my fists. I looked up towards the sky once more, the sky now pitch black with only a luminous, crescent-shaped moon hanging above, high up in the midnight sky.


    Realising how late it was, I knew I should probably start to head back home before I ended up spending the whole night in the numbing cold, an idea I wasn¡¯t terribly adverse to. Feeling exhausted, both mentally and physically I slowly stood up, needing to use the now blood-stained, but undamaged, tree for support. Once I finally felt stable, stable enough to at least not collapse underneath my own weight, I began to walk home. Doing my best to retrace my steps before finding an area I was more familiar with and knew the way back from.


    During the walk, just like after I had left the hospital, I tried desperately to focus on my surroundings in an effort to distract myself. I stared at the large brick houses that showcased just how nice the area I had stumbled upon was, the many different cars which lined the road, anything to keep my mind away from focusing on my true thoughts and feelings. Even the streets themselves which wound up being virtually barren, only passing by a handful of people during the entire walk, each of whom looked at me in shock. Reminding me of how much of a mess I must have looked. In hindsight, I must have looked like a madman with my blood-coated fists.


    It didn¡¯t take long before I started to recognise the area I was in and got closer and closer to home. The houses became smaller and dingier and the acidic smell of rot and fumes got thicker and denser, carried along by the blowing wind. And there before me, after only a few more minutes, was home. A place, that despite leaving less than twenty-four hours before, I felt like I hadn¡¯t seen in months.


    I quickly shook my head, banishing the misery-induced thoughts that tried to worm themselves in and looked back to my home. In truth, to call it a house was extremely generous. A dilapidated shack would be a fairer assessment. It shakily stood at one storey tall, half covered in a peeling white paint. The other half was covered in the black mould that could be found within. The wooden structure itself was filled with an assortment of chips and cracks, looking as if it would snap in half under its own minuscule weight.


    Out front, on the weed-infested driveway sat my dad¡¯s most prized possession, his 1990 Ford F350. A dull red truck that would seem more at home in a junkyard than in front of a home. With its rusted bumper, broken tail lights and worn tyres it amazed me each and every day that he would even be able to get it started, let alone moving.


    Seeing that the truck was there and knowing it meant my dad had already come back home, I prayed to god that he had already gone to sleep. With how mentally and physically exhausted I was, I didn''t know whether I would be able to come up with a coherent lie about where I had been if he was still awake. Cautiously, I opened the front door as quietly as possible. That was until I heard the creaking of the hinges and the splintering floorboards and realised the futility of such an action.


    As I stepped inside I was greeted with the first bit of good news I received all day. An empty living room bathed in darkness and the booming snores of my dad a couple of doors away. Thankful for the small act of mercy and not wanting to tempt fate, I quickly shut the door behind me before all but sprinting on the tips of my toes towards my room. It was only when I was safe inside did I let out a sigh of relief, grabbing my sleepwear as I carelessly chucked my bag beside my bed, my only focus on getting ready for bed before I collapsed on the floor in exhaustion.


    After changing clothes and as I was lying on my bed, I realised I hadn¡¯t checked my phone once since I awoke in the hospital, my phone having not been a priority at the time. When I opened my phone I saw I had one unopened message from over six hours ago. Without even looking I knew exactly who it was; though with the amount of contacts I had, it was hardly a difficult guess.


    I opened Sam¡¯s message, doing my best to focus on the meandering words through my quickly blurring vision long enough to see what he said. Luckily for me, it was only a short message asking whether I was alright. A message that almost made me burst into raucous laughter at the irony of it, with my situation being worse than anyone could have expected.


    Wanting nothing more than to just go to sleep and forget all about today I responded with a simple confirmation saying we would talk more tomorrow. Once sent I all but tossed my phone onto the floor, not caring whether it gained another scratch or two to add to its extensive collection. I climbed underneath my duvet, cherishing the small amount of warmth it provided until, within moments, I was out like a light.