Shawn's Melachonly

Chapter 3: The Ill-Fated Revelation

You know how some days start normal, and then wham! Everything goes sideways? Yeah, that was my day. It was the usual morning chaos – my crew and I were cracking up over Jared's corny jokes, which, trust me, are so bad they're good. We were dodging through the jam-packed school hallways, dodging backpacks and high-fives, just another typical Tuesday.

But then, out of nowhere, the world started spinning like I was on one of those crazy fairground rides. One second, I'm laughing at Jared trying to pull off a pun about pizza – it was seriously cheesy, no pun intended – and the next, it's like someone hit the off switch on me. Dizziness slammed into me like a freight train. It was intense like my brain decided to take a roller coaster ride without giving me a heads-up.

Everything around me blurred into this weird, swirly mess. The sounds of lockers slamming and friends chatting morphed into this distant, underwater echo. I tried to grab onto something, anything, but it was too late. It was lights out for me, right there in the middle of the corridor.

Black. Complete blackout. No dreams, no sense of time passing – just a void.

You hear stories about this stuff, you know? People are just dropping like flies for no reason. But that's stuff for TV dramas or movies, not for someone like me who's just trying to survive high school and Jared's joke collection. It's the kind of thing you never think will happen to you until it does.

So there I was, blinking awake to that harsh, bright light and the unmistakable antiseptic smell of a hospital. Not the most fantastic way to wake up, right? But that wasn't even the worst part. Nope, that award goes to the heavy look in the doctor's eyes when he broke the news: Zeldin's Syndrome—ever heard of it? Me neither, until that moment.

"Incurable," he said somberly like he was announcing a grim weather forecast. And get this, he throws in, "You've got a steady decline coming your way over the next four years." Not exactly the pep talk you hope for, huh?

He kept talking, something about managing symptoms, finding support, blah blah. Honestly, it was like listening to a bad phone connection. Words are just kind of fuzzing in and out. "Make your time comfortable," he said. Comfortable? The word felt so out of place, like wearing a clown suit to a funeral.

It was all so bleak, you know? It's like watching your favourite series, and suddenly, the screen goes black. No warning, no next episode. Just boom, here's your new reality.

I remember lying there, staring at that sterile ceiling, thinking, "Well, this is a plot twist I didn't see coming." Life, man. It's like it's got a twisted sense of humour.

Time, huh? It's like this endless thing until suddenly, it isn't. Just yesterday, I was chilling, thinking I had all the time in the world. And now? It's like there's this giant clock hanging over my head, ticking away loud enough to drive me nuts.

But here's the real kicker: How do you break this kind of news? Like, where do you even start? Picture this: My parents, right? They've got all these dreams and plans for me. How do I just drop this bomb and watch those dreams crumble? And my friends – we were supposed to make a zillion more stupid memories together probably embarrass ourselves a few more times.

And then there's Candice. Ah, Candice. I was starting to figure out this whole feelings thing with her. It's like I finally cracked the code, and now what? "Hey, guess what? I have this crazy rare syndrome, but wanna catch a movie?"

Nope. I couldn't do it. Not yet. It was like my tongue turned to stone whenever I thought about saying it out loud. I mean, how do you tell people that your life's suddenly got an expiration date? Spoiler alert: You don't. Not until you have to.

Walking around Eldridge was a trip, let me tell you. It's like the town got a whole new vibe overnight. There's the diner. I've grown up in those booths drowned more fries and ketchup than I can count. And the park – man, that's where we had our epic first picnic, the kind that's straight out of a cheesy rom-com. Don't even get me started on the old bookstore. That dusty, book-crammed paradise is where I fell head over heels for art.

But cruising through these spots today? Every nook and cranny whispered, "Hey, tick-tock, buddy." Each corner, every familiar sight, it was all screaming at me about the sand slipping through my hourglass. Seriously, it's like the town was putting up giant neon signs, reminding me that my clock's ticking down.

It's weird how places can change, huh? One day, they're just chill spots, and the next, they're like stages for your drama.

So, I get back to my place, right? And there it is, this random note just chilling on my doorstep. No envelope, no fancy handwriting, just a plain old piece of paper. And on it, the words, "Everything happens for a reason. Look up." I mean, what the heck?

I'm standing there, holding this note, trying to figure out if I'm in some low-budget mystery movie. Was it a prank? Some cryptic pep talk? Maybe it was a message from someone who caught wind of my situation. I couldn't make heads or tails of it.

Seriously, the day had already been one wild ride and this note? It was like throwing a puzzle into the mix when you lost the instructions—just another drop in the day's bucket of chaos.

Alright, so there I was, totally needing to let out all these crazy emotions swirling inside me. Drawing's always been my go-to when words just don't cut it. So, I grabbed my sketchpad and pencils and just let it rip.

Man, it was like uncorking a bottle that's been shaken way too much. Everything just poured out onto the paper – my feelings for Candice, which are a rollercoaster, the tornado of thoughts about this wild diagnosis, and that weird, cryptic note. It was all there.

Each line I drew felt like I was shedding a tear. Every shade I laid down was like a whisper of the fears coiling inside me. I was deep in it, you know? The kind of deep where you feel like you're spilling your soul onto the page.

And there I was, trying to muffle my sobs, gripping those sheets of paper like they were lifelines. The last thing I wanted was to freak out my family. They didn't need to hear their kid falling apart behind closed doors. It was like trying to keep a thunderstorm quiet – not accessible, but you do what you've got to do.

After a bit, I was like, "Okay, I seriously need some air." The roof's always been my go-to spot for stargazing. There's something about looking up at that endless sky that makes my problems feel like specks of dust.

So there I was, chilling and tracing constellations, trying to find calm in the cosmic craziness. But then, out of my eye, I catch this shadow zipping by. I whip my head around so fast I probably looked like a cartoon character, but then... nothing. It just vanished.

Was my mind messing with me? Or was there someone... something out there in the dark, watching me? The night suddenly felt like it was out of a mystery novel – full of secrets and whispers.

Sitting there, surrounded by stars and shadows, I couldn't help but hope for some answers. Answers to the riddle of the note, my tangled feelings, the whole nine yards. The universe is vast, and, who knows, maybe it had a few clues up its sleeve for a lost soul like me.