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CHAPTER ONE
FROM A YOUNG AGE, I always knew that I was different. You could say it kinda started when I was a toddler when my skin started to turn an unnatural shade of green or when on the first day of kindergarten, my left bicep literally fell off.
Gosh, where do I begin?
Um, my quirk started to develop when I was three with my skin turning green. At first it was just small patches of my skin losing its fair color. This worried my parents, so of course, they took me to the hospital looking for a treatment.
When the doctors said this was just a sign of my quirk, it didn't really calm their thoughts. Since then they always worried about me, a little more then I would've liked them too. Especially my mom. I only hope that things would loosen up but that didn't happen. Things just got unbelievably worse.
As I previously mentioned, one day in kindergarten my limbs literally fell off my body specifically my left bicep and my left hand. In that moment, I didn't feel any pain but as my parents told me from what my teacher told them, I was in shock. My teacher said that I was shaking violently and was practically screaming my head off even though I was wasn't in any physical pain.
I don't remember much from that day but it was clear that I was had a panic attack. I didn't go to school for about a month after that and it was clear that from that day forward things only got weirder.
My body grew at an unnatural rate along with my crazy strength. I managed to surf through elementary with little spurts of power but other then that everything kinda went back to normal. Sure, I was taller then the other kids but they actually thought I was pretty cool. They liked to be around me especially when it came to gym class. All the shitty stuff happened in middle school.
That's when all their admiration turned to...fear? I don't really know what to call it.
By this time, I just hit five foot and like nine inches or something. My skin had fully turn green and by this time my body been supported by stitches. Like my limbs being held up by string sewn into my body.
You laugh.
I hated my body. I hated myself.
Well, still kinda do.
But i-it's better now! Trust me, it's not as bad as before.
You take a deep breath.
My mom thought it would be good idea to record my thoughts, saying it would help me get my feelings out in a different. We previously had tried writing but with my dyslexia I could never. Sure, this is different but I don't really know if I like it, feels weird talking to myself.
But also weirdly relaxing.
You sigh in relief, falling down on your bed letting you sheets engulf you. That relaxing feeling washed away quickly once you opened your eyes wide.
