Bloody Texas

This Town can Kiss my Ass

Lance watched the foreign blood snake through the tubing and enter his port. He found the sticky dressing that held the needle in place to be painfully itchy-- almost like a kitten's nails before it learns to sheathe them. Shortly after the blood ran through his veins, a euphoric feeling hit him like a small wave on a lonely beach. His energy rose and his skin gained a glow, bringing a warm smile to his face.

He turned to the nurse beside him, "That feels nice."

She flashed him a sweet smile. Her curly brown hair was tied up in a smooth bun and her pale cheeks were smeared with an ugly pink. She tried to mask her southern American accent, but it was littered throughout her sentences. "Your body's getting 'nough oxygen now."

He chuckled silently and leaned his head back with a deep breath and closed his sparkly gold eyelids.

For as long as Lance could remember, he had always been in pain. Unbearably sharp, stabbing pain in both his body and mind. He was always tired, unable to keep up with the other kids or participate in sports. This made it harder for him to make friends or maintain any that he had. He remembered watching a group of boys play with cards together every day at recess in fifth grade. Since he was too nervous to walk over and ask them if he could join, he watched silently from the green bench across the lot. One day, he was observing them on a chilly autumn afternoon. He wore his older brother's grey beanie and green jacket, resting one of his brown moccasin boots across the bench beside him. It was a typical day until Lance suddenly felt a sharp needle in his hips. He clutched his jacket and tried to bite through the pain with strained breaths, but it got worse. The stinging soon intensified and spread to his legs. He fell to the ground and writhed on the cold concrete for a minute until a teacher heard his screaming. He was rushed to the hospital and pumped full of pain medications to ease his suffering as it continued for hours.

The doctors called it sickle cell anemia. It took longer to get a diagnosis due to his Cuban blood. A rarity in his genetic makeup, but definitely possible.

That day wasn't the first time it happened and it certainly wasn't the last. But after the incident, kids started avoiding him more and spreading rumors through the halls or crumpled up notebook paper. Lance would come home and cry to his mother as she held him and pet his hair. Lance was cursed with a lonely childhood.

High school was worse. Friends would be made but soon fade. They didn't want to hang out with someone who couldn't keep up or drink until they passed out. Instead, Lance stayed at home and watched out the window. Occasionally, he would read or browse his phone, but in the end he was still bored. Doctor's visits, various pills, supplements, and blood transfusions became the routine of his dismal life. Sometimes, Lance would sneak out his window at night and walk around the neighborhood until his body was exhausted, often collapsing on the damp street.

His parents did everything they could to help. With their generous love and support, Lance did slowly start gaining an optimistic view of the world. He learned how to bake from his mother and how to build an adequate bookshelf from his father. Even though his three brothers-Mark, James, and Andy-said they would always be with him, they clung to each other with their love of any and all sports. Lance would watch them play football for a while, but it only made him feel worse seeing how alike they all looked, unlike Lance's body. Shopping was a hobby Lance adored. When his aunt Marie took him to the mall, she was always very patient and sat with him when he needed a break. She would buy him ice cream or bubble tea as they talked on the bench surrounded by their shopping bags.

By the time he was seventeen, Lance was finally living a relatively happy life. He even had two friends that lived in his neighborhood. Hunk's house was directly to the right of Lance's, and they would often sneak out to hang with each other. Pidge was two years younger than they were, but equally as fun. She enjoyed science and space, and excelled in school. It was common for her to tutor Lance in subjects he didn't understand well due to his condition. When they all hung out, they loved to play video games at Lance's house. Due to the obsessive sympathy of his parents, Lance always had the newest games. Pidge and Hunk both understood Lance's situation and never let it affect their time together, quickly becoming the closest people he had throughout high school.

Lance waved to the hospital staff as he left with his mother. He always felt stronger and more energetic after blood transfusions. Even if his body was happy, his mind was still clouded with routine sorrow.

His seatbelt clicked into place as his mother spoke to him. She was a bigger woman with long coils of dark hair. Her skin held traces of stress on her soft face. "You feel better, m'ijo?"

He gave her a small nod, "Sí Mama." Lance adored his mother-even if it wasnt reciprocated. He was thankful for all of her support through his difficult life. He watched the wrinkles on her face stretch as she drove home carefully.

However sad Lance felt, he didn't want to add any more stress to her smooth caramel eyes. He leaned his head against the window and watched the buildings pass by. It was a humid summer day. The sun leaked through the glass, warming his highlighted cheeks. The town seemed to give off a yellow aura, like it was set in an old American western movie. The people were either rich and racist or lived in trailer houses with their five neglected children. Lance's family moved to Texas a few years prior after being recommended to a special doctor. Other than that occasional racism from the locals, it was a nice place for a twenty-year-old to live out the rest of his days.

Lance always tried to see the bright side of things-and he often did. His life had been lonely and boring, and he did all he could to stay positive. He was cursed with unbearable pain, friends were fleeting, and he was always tired. But every experience he went through could never have prepared him for meeting Keith Kogane.