Of Man and Metal (Transformers Prime)

Chapter 1

It was a Sunday afternoon, the coffee table piled with wrapped boxes and shiny bags, torn gift paper and ribbon hanging off the sides and littering the floor.  There were plenty of presents, more than most would get on their birthday, but I didn't care about any of them.  I was polite - forcing a pained smile and thanking everyone, even my numerous classmates.  I barely knew them, and they didn't care a bit about me, but who wouldn't miss out on a rich kid's party?  At least they were appreciative rather than cruel.  When I was younger, with just a bit of weakness in my legs, they would call me names and push me around.  But once I showed up to school in a wheelchair I was automatically taken off the bully list.  Making fun of the disabled kid was somehow a worse crime no one would cross.  It was hard to tell whether the occasional moments of kindness was out of sympathy, or compassion.  I always assumed the former.  Maybe, this was why I had no friends.  My mother was trying her best to change this by inviting my entire home room class.  It wasn't working.

I wasn't always "disabled".  I used to walk and run, jump and play as well as anyone.  I even tried out for sports back in middle school.  Then, the weakness started.  At fifteen years old, I was now unable to walk.  It didn't matter how many doctors we went to or how much money Daddy spent; this was progressive.  I simply wasn't going to get better, my parents would say.  I refused to believe it.  I would do anything I could to get my legs back, regardless of the risks.

I waited on the couch in the center of the foyer, staring into space as cake was served.  My 'friends' talked in their own groups, or enjoyed the family pool I could no longer swim in.  I was in the middle of the action, yet I was alone.

"Shilo, honey?"  I snapped out of my depressed daze to look up at my Mom as she came and sat on the couch next to me.  She rubbed the small of my back, which comforted me.  "You haven't touched your birthday cake."

"I'm sorry."  I picked the plate up from the coffee table and started to scarf it down.  I would never insult my mother's baking.  "It's really good."

"You can slow down," she said with an almost-chuckle.  "Don't worry, I baked a second cake.  Once everyone leaves you can have whatever leftovers you want."

I shook my head.  "I can't."  I wasn't sure if I wanted to.  "We're tracking my diet, remember?  I don't think that's the problem, but I don't want to mess it up too bad if it is."

My mother frowned. There was a mix of judgement and pain in her eyes. I knew she wanted me to enjoy life. The more focused I became on getting better, the less joy I could see in the small things. I understood it; it made sense to try when there was hope, but my parents had started to stop believing there was a cure for this.  They didn't want me to live like everything revolves around my legs.  But what else did I have?  Today it was my legs.  Maybe tomorrow, my arms.  I'd never be able to hold down a job like other teens, or go hunting and fishing like most boys my age.  It would be easier if I had a strong mind, but I wasn't a nerd.  Straight Bs in school was an accomplishment, and I was retaking algebra in the hopes that I might pass this time.  My childhood was filled with sports and video games, not books and Rubik's cubes.  But I hadn't given up faith that I could find something that could get me better.  In this modern world, innovation bred faster than rabbits in heat. I was thankful for a birthday party, but I didn't need it.  I just needed help from the right people.

My mother sighed.  "Okay. Hang in there, sweetheart."  Gratefully, she didn't kiss my forehead in the presence of my classmates.  The last thing I needed was teasing.  The party continued, but the other teens started to filter out, or be ushered out by the adults.  Come to think of it, there were more adults here than I initially realized.  A few of them were wearing suits.  They couldn't all be guests' parents...were these friends of my parents?  They did have business meetings a lot, so perhaps they had invited a few of them so they wouldn't be outnumbered by teenagers.