fragile | jelix

chapter 19

"i'm not telling you a lot of things." he seemed to have calmed down a little bit now.

"and what are those things?" he looked around the room cautiously, as if somebody was going to be in there with us.

"fine...i'll tell you. you deserve to know. i trust you enough." he took a deep breath and began fiddling his thumbs, indicating that he was anxious to tell me the things he was about to share.

"i'm gonna tell you everything and by everything, i mean everything. why i was upset, why i never leave the house, why there's a line on the floor...but i'll only tell you if you promise not to view me as some sort of freak afterwards."

"of course i promise. i'd never think of you as a freak." he nodded, he seemed to believe me.

"well...to put it simply, i have an incredibly rare condition, a condition that effects my bones to be specific. it makes them weaker than they should be and they break easily, so easily in fact that it's dangerous for me to go out and about an do the things that normal kids do, which is why i've been stuck in this place for so many years. this condition is the same one that ended up killing my sister, and it was through physical contact with another person. that's why i'm not allowed to have any friends or go to school. my condition prevents me from doing normal every day things and it can become really frustrating, as well as painful, which is why i was so upset to the point i was crying when i couldn't open the pill bottle. this whole dumb thing is why i have that wheelchair. i can walk, i am capable, and i would much prefer to walk but my parents get worried that i'll fall or injure my legs so i have to use the wheelchair, even if i'm only going to the bathroom. that line is there and has been for years, because if somebody crosses it and touch me in the wrong place in the wrong way i could get seriously injured. i've suffered from this thing since i was a little kid, same case with my sister. doctors have no clue why it exists, how to prevent it or how to cure it. basically, they know nearly nothing about it. there isn't a cure and it's very unlikely there ever will be, meaning i'll never get better and i'm going to be stuck like this for the rest of my life."

i was in awe. i don't know what i was expecting him to tell me, but that definitely wasn't it. i felt so much sympathy, i felt so sorry for him. having to be stuck in that house for years because of a horrible condition such as that must have made him feel like absolute trash. sure, i complained about my life a lot, there are some pretty bad aspects to it. but at least i was allowed to go outside, and have friends, and have an education, and not have to use a wheelchair, and walk. at least i didn't have to be shut off from the rest of society and be labelled as a 'failed government experiment' by people who had absolutely no idea what was actually wrong with me.