The Young Man -- Origin Story Rewritten

Wait

I woke up in my bunk. Or a bunk.

My hand, which I'd nearly forgotten about, was bandaged, but just barely, since rations for everything were low. I peeled the gauze off carefully to see a small scar.

But that wasn't what scared me.

The veins interlacing with the cut were black. And the dark chased down my wrist, all the way into my sleeve. I fumbled my shirt off. My chest was covered in black, too.

"Lawrence?"

I looked up. It was Dixon.

"What do you want?"

He looked taken aback, but I hadn't meant it rudely. If he was talking to me, he must want something from me.

"I just came to see if you were okay."

"Why?"

That time I really did seem to offend him.

"Uh, why not? You almost fucking died, Lawrence, of course I'm gonna check on you."

I shrugged.

It suddenly felt very strange, sitting there in front of him with my shirt off. I put it back on. Oddly, I felt like laughing. That didn't make any sense. Nothing about this was funny.

I looked at my wrist again. Whatever had infected me was flowing through my blood right now. Into my heart. The tips of my fingers looked bruised and dark. "Might as well say goodbye while you're here," I said, cracking a small smile.

Dixon didn't say anything. It was as obvious to him as it was to me-- whatever was happening, I wouldn't last long.

So long life. You've been a real bitch.

Now I did laugh.

There was something I was supposed to do now, but I wasn't going to get to. The trench wanted me to, but it had played itself, and killed me instead.

I was gonna die. I was gonna die! I grinned. Maybe there'll be other sick boys like me in hell. Guys who like guys.

I'm obviously not getting into heaven. Whatever god exists already decided I was a piece of shit.

"Lawrence are you okay?" Dixon had taken a step back.

I leaned back, still smiling. "I'm just fine, thank you."

̷ǝ̴ᴉ̴p̶ ̵o̸ʇ̶ ̴ʇ̵ᴉ̶ɐ̶ʍ̷ ̵ʇ̸u̴ɐ̴ɔ̸ ̵ᴉ̸ ̵ʇ̵u̶ɐ̷ɔ̸ ̶I

ǝᴉp oʇ ʇᴉɐʍ ʇ,uɐɔ I

HH∀∀HH∀H∀HH∀H∀HH∀HH∀HƎHHƎH∀H∀H∀HHH∀HH∀H∀H∀HHɐɥɥɥɐɥɐɥɥǝɥ ˙ɥǝɥ