wrong

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He isn't scared of being different.

He likes to pretend that he isn't scared of anything. That he's one of those comic book superheroes that allows him not to be scared of anything. Like Batman. Or Spiderman.

Maybe even Thor.

And it would be true, in a way. Enzo isn't scared of anything. But that is only because he can't be scared of anything.

He can't be scared of being different. He can't even be scared of the looks people give him, for being different.

He can't be scared of anything at all. 

To Enzo, it is like an endless wave of silence. An endless wave of wrong silence. 

Slowly sinking. Slowly drowning.

They call him a medical miracle. They say that he is lucky, so lucky, to be alive. Enzo doesn't feel lucky. He feels wrong

Freaky-monster wrong.

Is it possible to feel wrong, in so many different ways? Enzo thinks it is. But when you were born without a heart, everything feels wrong, somehow. 

The fake, metal, parody heart that they put inside of him, at birth - the fake, metal, this-is-what-will-make-you-normal heart.

The lumpy bumpy scars.

The no breathing.

The no breathing.

A boy, at school, Edward, asked if he had gills. If that was why he didn't breathe, barely moved. Had no heart.

As if it that would explain it.

Stupid.

Enzo knows that he has no right to call anyone stupid. Enzo knows that he has no right to make fun of someone else, when there is so much to make fun of about himself.

Freak.

Monster.

Vampire.

Idiot.

So, so wrong.

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