"Don't pity me. Don't do it. I hate it. It hurts."
The first time I collapsed was in fifth grade. We went on a field trip to see the high school marching band play their songs around the block. It was spring, and smelled like the most beautiful flowers. But I knew there were clouds in the distance.
My parents had assumed that I cheered the musicians on too hard, therefore passing out in the heat. It was a plausible excuse. Unfortunately, it wasn't true. Nobody would have ever know about it back then.
Throughout my new years of constant adaptation to new things, I grew up spending lots of time outdoors. I played sports. I was excellent at the piano. My grades were top notch, and I was surrounded by people that liked to be around me.
Little did anyone know just how serious my condition would be in the future. The hospital became my second home, despite what my parents would say. Only once a month became once a week. I never told anyone.
But when my feet gave out under me as if I didn't have any...or when my body hit the ground like a sack of potatoes before the end of the volleyball warm-up...and that time, when my breath came in pants and my voice couldn't escape. Like the dark hole I fell into, I had encapsulated myself in my own lie of:
It will be okay.
YOU ARE READING
A Place Beyond the Stars
أدب المراهقين"He had everything going for him." "It's so sad. I can't help but pity him." "He just has to give up his dreams for himself." In his first year of high school, Orion Blackwell becomes unable to do the things and hobbies he thought would stick with h...
