Slowly a thick layer of fog is forming over the lake in the distance. I am looking outside of my wood framed, slightly warped glass window when I see it. Massive on a scale that defies my comprehension. With light steps resembling a fairy dancing on water it treads across the land, it stops to view a snowy capped mountain with a tilt that seems to convey confusion. 

Every pore on my body perspires with fear. I am frozen in front of the beast that is surely many times more powerful than I can hope to be. Like a human smashing an ant the beast releases a white light so blinding and focused it bursts forth. With the same focus the power grows and warps into a dark circle devoid of all color. Instantaneously, the orb collapses into nothingness. As though to accommodate the beast's demands the mountain is completely gone. The clouds surrounding the peak of the mountain contorted as though being focused through a fish eyed lens and instantly pull towards the now empty space where the mountain had been.

A shock wave forms in the center of the space. A gigantic perfectly circular ring of white spreads outwards in all directions. The trees in the valley between the mountain and my window are all obliterated in its wake. The pit of my stomach fills with a deep fear. I panic and scream with all of my being. I know with a certainty greater than death what comes next. The shock wave rushes over the village I am inside...

I awake with blood in my mouth. I have bitten deeply into my cheeks and tongue. The dream has fury I am unaccustomed to. I have slowly become numb to the dream, but the new anger greatly ruins my ability to cope with it. This is probably because of my new found helplessness in life. 

Three years have passed since I met Kinslee in 6th grade. My condition has progressed so that I can no longer move with crutches. Each passing day...my nerves becoming weaker despite therapy. As usual I haul myself into my wheelchair. The familiar feel of leather and metal have become as integral as my arms or legs. I decide to call my mom to let her know I am awake.

The daily routine of my mom helping me get dressed and ready for school follows. The initial embarrassment at needing help dressing myself had long faded. Now a deep apathy takes its place. Slowly over time I need more and more help which my mom aptly handles. The only problem being the rift slowly forming between me and my mom. As a single parent she can barely afford all of the new expenses my condition has caused. The stress slowly pushes her away from me. The talks of the past about what I had learned that day have long since faded, and are replaced with cold, pounding silence. 

I am rolling myself to school as usual with Artheus taking the lead. In my time of need the dog has been a life saver. He allows me to keep my mobility to and from school, and he still loves me with innocent apprehension. He keeps me in a state where my sanity is slowly recovering. As usual I bring him into the school, and they keep him with the school counselor. It is actually a huge process to allow Artheus to carry me to and from school, but eventually the school cracks and let me uses my dog to come and go. 

Luke waits for me so we can talk before class. He has a slightly sympathetic glance directed at me. It burns. I hate the constant glances and down turned eyes. The hands clutching their chests. Like being famous for being ugly, I continue my walk of shame over to him. People give Luke a glance of slight pity as he starts the conversation with, "Looks like my favorite bro made it  in time for the school showdown."

I reply with, "Pffft, made it? If it wasn't for the slow pit stop I easily would have beat you here with my lightning pace. Wanna race and see?" I say with my usual cheerful mask.

Masking the seething anger, I think about how I've become desensitized to my current condition. While other people just can't do it. 

"A race ey? What will the stakes be?" He says with a slightly refreshed "aaaahhh" under his voice. He always did this whenever we haven't seen each other recently. I can't help but think it's because he wonders why he even talks to me.

"Maybe a wooden one? Vampires are all the rage now" I say with a big smile plastered on my face as he cringes at the joke. 

He makes a weird hissing noise as he tanks the joke. I use that moment of weakness to push further, "I could maybe get bitten and then have super cripple strength. They would call me "The Blur" because of how fast I'd take off in my chair." I state with a mock smile and hand gestures. 

He has the weirdest expression of trying to suppress laughter as though to save my feelings, but laughs nonetheless.

 "I love the way you stay so strong despite the disease Brax." He says while quickly shifting from a laugh to intense eye contact.

I think about how much I know that isn't true. They don't know about how much I wish with all my might I could raise my goddamned legs. Strength saps from my legs and hands like god has poked a hole in my soul. Right now they shake with ever increasing vigor. As though they struggle more and more each passing second to continue moving.

"I just feel like Life is too short and painful for me to hate it. Isn't that just too sad? I should be focusing on all the good I have. " I reply with mock happiness. 

I know what I am saying is true, but each passing day I struggle more and more to keep that outlook. How can I? Is it at all reasonable to expect me to constantly be happy despite my condition? No. I don't think so. I have a deeply suppressed sadness that helps me stay motivated. If I was ever alone or not busy for too long I know I would have to face it, and that....Is not something I think I can do...

"You're a stronger man than me. You wanna go to the chess club again today?" He replies with a mischievous smile.

 Luke has always been a somewhat passive person, but with me around he knows he can let his inner desires show. He loves showing people up, and surprising them. 

"As always Luke. Your knight in black armor is here to crush the hopes and dreams of the elite," I say with a certain level of familiarity. 

He wants to go and Smash some poor random kid called Daniel, the reigning tri-state area chess champion again today. I have never lost to him, and he is a decently pompous fellow. The look of devastation is always like a heavy rain in the dessert. 

I spend every second of free time researching anything. Famous figures from France's history? I know them all. How to create a sword from rocks and tree sap? You can slice through steel with the ones I can make...At least I want to believe. Theory on radiation sickness and therapy? I can heal the Hulk.  At least in theory. Today I'm looking through practices the mongols used to dominate the competition under Ghengis Khan when I notice that the teacher is about to call on me. Since it is the beginning of the year, I am going to do what has become a custom among my new teachers. 

As always I am not at all paying attention to anything they say. Instead I constantly read in class. I would even wear headphones and watch videos in most of my classes. I have studied academia as far as I can go. I didn't do anything with it only because of my age. I can't actually accomplish too much in the next few years anyways... 

"Why don't you solve the equation at the board for us Braxton Whitaker?" The new teacher says with slight apprehension. My last teacher skipped the custom because she never actually tried to make me go to the board, but this one is a lot older and does not feel as much sympathy for my condition. It is refreshing because I don't want to get rusty or out of form. 

"Absolutely mam!"I say with my most innocent voice possible. Luke in the corner begins to chuckle. I struggle to readjust myself and I fall out of the chair. The cold air rushes to meet me, and heat like boiling water spreads through me. The atmosphere is thick, but I ignore it.

I then slowly roll to the front and stretch to an uncomfortable degree while reaching the chalk high enough to write on the board. I solve the equation easily, and then write some more. It is a counter problem meant for her. It is just a harder version of the one I just did.

I challenge her to do it, but in a very child like way that is more of a request. She is able to do the problem, so we go back and forth for a while until I bring out a problem from calculus 2. It's a problem that involves advanced understanding of integral calculus and 3d modeling. She's completely stumped. I spend the next 15 minutes explaining the problem in the most demeaning tone I can possibly muster. 

"Th-Tha-...That is enough Braxton. Go sit down," she responds while trying to hide the frustration under mock strictness.

"Is this some kind of a joke? Do you think it's funny that I have to sit in a chair all day? " I reply while my voice cracks loudly.

"Do you understand what it is like to never be able to walk? To know you're going to never walk again?" I pause for dramatic effect. 

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

The teacher looked onto my visage with absolute horror as I continue. A heat I have never felt before shrouds my mind.

"Maybe it seems like a smaller deal to you than to me, but I think I still deserve respect befitting a  man. Befitting a human being going through a difficult time. Do you like the idea of picking on me and forcing me up to show boat my disease in front of the class? Does seeing me struggle to the front of the class make you happy? So I embarrass you, what about it? Am I expected to be happy all the time? Can you tell me what it feels like? You are SICK. " I say with finality. 

"Even sicker than me..." I say while turning my chair around and crying.

Unlike my previous sessions where I just roast the teacher in front of the class I actually became emotional. Hatred for having to go in front of the class, hatred stemming from my lack of control, and hatred from my lack of opportunities funnel through my voice and eyes. 

The stillness in the air is so thick it's like concrete. The snickering had died down and is now reforming into silence. Looks of horror and shock are plastered onto the faces of everybody present. I can't breathe. The seriousness in my claims so greatly contrast my usual persona that a couple of people start to cry. The teacher slowly reddens more and more. Her breathing slows and she eventually starts to cry. 

"I...I just....I'm so sorry." the old woman says as she runs from the now unbearable situation. 

Anger is so thick in my  mind that pleasure emanating from her pain forms...I just want her to feel a fraction of the pain I have... If she can just have it for a moment maybe I won't be so alone... Maybe I won't be....

I find no respite. As the heat fades, cold fills my limbs. I want to escape my isolation, but I just amplified it. Me and Luke don't go to the chess club after class. In fact we barely speak again after that. A veil of darkness between me and all of my previous classmates materializes after that. 

Later that day I'm walking my dog, and I meet with Kinslee as usual. 

"You look more beautiful each and every day Lee. Are you trying to tempt me? " I say with incredible sarcasm and a  snicker.

"I thought our great leader was immune to temptation," she playfully asks.

The thought of how much better at conversation she has become after the last 3 years comes to my mind  as I say, "You know iron is vulnerable to oxygen? It seems like you just breathe too much life into me." 

"You seem well as always. I have big news so lets go sit down somewhere," she says while pangs of guilt go through my mind. Earlier today is already becoming a painful memory. 

We continue our banter and eventually come to a stop. We sit down in the usual place where the fig trees and lake meet like lovers. 

"I think... Today is a special day." I say teasingly, as though to prompt a response. 

"Oh no, are you going to ask me to marry you finally, " She asks with a dramatic pose of a damsel in distress.

"Even more important than that. This could truly break the modern power balance in the world. Tales of this day will be heard throughout history. Long after Alexander and Hitler are forgotten they will inscribe this story into stone." I say with a huge grin on my face.

"Okay what is it? You got me, and I need to know now." She says while leaning in closer towards me.

I reply slowly,"Did you know today marks 3 years since the first time we started coming after school and talking?" 

She blushes a scarlet red and smiles as she said, " You are a hopeless romantic. Do you do this to everybody? "

"Only the important ones." I say with a wink as I struggle to pull a backpack out from behind my wheel chair. 

I fall from the chair while reaching back and land on my side. Seething frustration similar to earlier wreaks from every single ounce of my being. I quickly regret how I can't deliver the presents like I want to. The girl I love picks me up and straightens me into my wheelchair. In my mind, I cry out in anguish. Lamenting at my inability to remain suave in the face of adversity.

"I...I brought you a couple of things." I say while blushing and turning away slightly.  

"I thought since it's been 3 years I should bring you 3 things." I pull out a leather pouch I've made.

 Throughout the last 2 weeks I have been secretly visiting a tailor shop and borrowing equipment to create this present for her. It is 4 miles from my house, but the journey is made infinitely easier by Artheus. It is still an intense effort from me, and its rough appearance supersedes real emotion. 

"I...How did you make this? How much did it cost," She asks with a shambling voice. 

Her hands lightly shake as she grasped the pouch and brings it to her chest.

"The noble lady needs a more expensive gift to keep her appearances up?" I ask with a smile as I pull out a rather cheap ring that has 3 gemstones encrusted into it.

"wha...er!.. I can't! It's so pretty. You're...Thank you so much Braxton." She says with continually breaking down demeanor. 

Tears start to well as she looks at both of her presents. She keeps opening up her mouth and shutting it as if she can't speak without crying. I love the reactions, and I let them soak in for a few more seconds. Right before she speaks I put my finger to her mouth and say "shhhh."

I pull out my third and final present. A little box. "Open it! This one is going to really special."

She grasps the box and steals a glance at me before opening it. Inside is a thousand sheets of tracing paper, an architectural scale, some architectural and engineering measures, and a book that is titled "Architectural Graphic Standards". 

She looks down and opens her mouth before saying, " you...you really....How could you?...I" 

She immediately stares back at me and her already rapidly deteriorating presence shatters. She grabs me and starts to cry. She weeps with strength as I hold her in my arms and smile.

"You want to be an architect right? Well there is a starter kit." I say warmly while trying to infuse my words with as much understanding and emotion as possible. 

"wahhhhhh, you....You're so.....Sweeeeeeetttttt. wahhh" She cries loudly while leaning over the arm of my wheelchair and laying on my chest. 

Every bit of the effort I have put into it is worth it. At this moment, happiness and fullness pour forth like never before. We completely ignore stares from random people across the lake as we hold onto the moment as long as possible. 

After about 5 minutes she calms down and I stare at her. I say, "I just want to do something for you while I can. To help the world remember me a little better."

Her reaction is drastically different than what I expect. She says, "You're going through so mu-much. You still find time to ma-make all of these things for me.....You're hurting so bad. Just let it out. Don't be scared to cry. You can't be strong in front of everybody all the time."

"What are you talking about? It's all goo....d. I feel great, and..." I pause as the knot in my throat stops me from speaking.  

"I understand its hard. Your disease hurts your mind and body every day. You probably won't live to be 20, and you feel cheated. Lied to. Like the world is playing with what little you have left. I'm still here. I won't run away. I will be here for you forever. You can keep being you, their will never be anything wrong with that."

The tenseness in my shoulders disappears. My mangled ball of emotions becomes unraveled. Like I have finally heard what I needed to hear, I weep. I let out my soul with every whimper. I let out my heart with every sob. Time stops as we both truly understand each other.  

After about 15 minutes I finally stop. I'm hideous, covered in snot and tears with eyes so swollen they look deformed. Kinslee look equally distraught. Her usually perfect face is riddled with red marks as she routinely wipes away her tears. 

"The only thing sadder than that is how we look," I reply playfully, wiping away my last tear. 

"I'm just glad you feel better now," she says while looking though me as easily as a window.

We stay like that for who knows how long. Afterwards we part ways and I go home. I hate the way I can never hold her because of my condition. A series of what-ifs cross my mind, but with new found determination I decide it is going to be okay. That I am going to keep loving my life no matter what happens. I will not silently go into the night.

*****************88

Please let me know whats up guys! I went through a massive rewrite recenty. I NEED YO HELP TO CATCH THE ERRORS.