Chapter One

16 1 0
                                    




It was always a chore to breath, to walk, to live. People make fitting in look easy, Well... it isn't. I feel pity for the very few people like me. It must be horrible to live with the same struggles as I. The only reason I keep at it is because my brother can get me out of a though spot. Although he never treated me as some pitiful handicap, My mother was too busy to talk to me, although she tried her best. My uncle played chess with me around noon, but that was it. I shiver at the thought of people like me that don't have family, and even worse...if I lost mine. My mother was a reproducer, she was born for the sole purpose of reproducing, she was genetically created as an adult. She never had a childhood, for she was never a child. As a result I have thirteen siblings, not including my twin. Most of us are multiples. Although I shouldn't be expecting another sibling anytime soon. My mother got enough money to pay for freedom from the government. Not many reproduces are citizens, they are genetically engineered, then reproduce until they can't and then are killed off. My mother though didn't want to accept this fate. She now lives in a house with my brother, my uncle, my siblings And I. It's the third day of school for me. My mother had gotten enough money for me and my brother to get schooled. She had concerns about how would have been treated by the other children. I have already accepted that I would be downgraded because of my disabilities I just wish my mother could see that I can handle it.

I laid in my bed with my hair Unbrushed, my eyes felt dry and my coat had many stains. My bed felt as uncomfortable as a wooden plank with splinters sticking out of ever way imaginable, well, it was exactly that. I licked my chapped lips and took in a deep breath full of pain. I heard the creaking of wood coming from outside my bedroom door. The steps sounded familiar and they were coming closer to my door, they stopped and the door opened slightly and I was greeted with an eye quite similar to mine

I sat up on the bed and waited for my brothers face to appear before me. He had worn his usual smile and had breakfast in his hands.

"Hello Will." He chirped. I smiled back and gestured him to take a seat next to me. He sat down and handed me my meal. "Mother said we need to start making our way to the school house." He gleamed.

"Yes, of course." I replied. I looked down at my meal and sighed. My brother could hear a slight bit of disgust in it. The white and grey mush sitting next to my toast could have been mistaken as pig slop. My brothers hand rubbed against my back as he tried to comfort me.

"I know, It's nasty." He took a deep breath in and gave me another smile. "But it's all we got so please just eat it." He added.

I closed my eyes and put the spoon that was holding my meal into my mouth.

Once I was done my brother took my plate and made his way to the kitchen to put away my plate. Once he reached the door he looked back at me and smiled once more. I don't know what is was about his smile that seemed to comfort me so much, But I was certainly thankful for them

"Mother will be expecting us in two minutes." My brother told me once more, I nodded my head in understanding.

I walked over to a broken mirror on my wall, I was disgusted by what I saw, I was so pale, I touched my face, the coldness of my fingertips made me shiver, I lifted up my shirt and I could easily see my ribs, I was extremely underweight and it clearly showed. My blonde hair was long, it hadn't been cut in awhile, I gave another loud sigh and made my way downstairs.

My brother was waiting for me by the front door, he had Held He's bag and my bag in his right hand while he held the door open for me with his left. I made a limp towards him as I walked out to the public, the air was damp and fresh but uncomfortably chilly the dirt road that led to the school house was a long, straight, dull path that I was not excited to travel on, my brother came up behind me and smiled once again, he cradled my hand in his own

William's Descent  Where stories live. Discover now