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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/364671-I-Am-Aqueous---Chapter-1
Rated: 13+ · Book · Sci-fi · #999215
A small boy is transformed into a liquid-based creature and he quests for the answers.
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#364671 added August 8, 2005 at 8:46am
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I Am Aqueous - Chapter 1
I Am Aqueous

By Brad Weaver

Chapter 1

“He’s going to be fine, Mrs. Belway. His stroke was very minor and he should be out of the hospital with in a few hours.” Said our family doctor, Dr. Pliskin
“What am I supposed to do after he’s home? He won’t be able to have any rough housing would he?” Said my mother.
“Just let him rest up for a week or so.” He looked at me asleep in my bed. “It’s more then enough, for that kind of stroke.”
My mother nodded, wiped a tear from her eye and took a glance at me with a grin. She turned back to the doctor and shook his hand, “Thank you so much. I don’t know where my little Ozzy would be without you.” She shed another tear and sat next to me in a chair.
Dr. Pliskin jotted down a few notes on his clipboard and left the room.
I woke up a few hours later with a big headache. I had a minor stroke this morning. My mother was happy to see me all right and hugged me an embarrassing amount. My father came in a while later to pick us all up from the hospital and take us home. I had a little difficulty walking, but I managed to get in his truck and ride home.
When I got home, I was sent straight to bed. I saw my older sister, but said nothing. I quickly fell asleep again, after I took my medication.
My name is Ozzy Belway. I am only 11 years old and I am dying. I was born with a condition of either I would die or live with in my first few years of life. I had defied the odds for most of my life, but over the last few months I had been getting worse. It started as common colds at uncommon times, then I became weaker in my muscles, then I got minor pneumonia and other diseases. I still tried to have fun and play, but it became increasingly more difficult to do anything. It became obvious that I was dying today, with my stroke, and that I only had between a few months to a year to live.
I really hadn’t known any life, but this slow decay, so I had gotten used to it. As bad as getting used to dying sounds, it was the truth. I remember the times when my would fall down and scrap their elbows and the cuts would heal in a week or two, but my injuries would take months to heal and they would leave scars. I remember seeing photographs of myself as a premature baby, going under many surgeries and examinations. All the while, my parents wondering if they could afford me, but they went through the process, at the cost of that I wasn’t expected to reach puberty. For years I have been the symbol of the family. When sick, the family was sick and vice-versa. I never wanted this burden, but I had to carry something, so I accept.
I have an older sister and a younger brother. My sister is 17 and her name is Catharine. She is a very trendy person. Her room is filled with posters of the hottest guys and cosmetics. Half her room physically, is a closet filled with all the new wave clothes that she spends her money on to become popular. She is tall and skinny. She has dyed blonde hair and wears too much mascara is you ask me. She tries and tries to fit in and be popular at school with all the things she does and buys; sometimes she’s successful, others, not so successful. Either way she wants to be the best.
I am fairly alienated from my sister. We’ve never ever been close and we hardly ever speak to one another. I really don’t know how she feels about me, but from what my mother interprets, she feels that I am the cause of all her problems. I guess having a younger brother is bad enough, but one that is dying would not get her any attention in the family. She cannot have any friends over when I’m really ill and people at school would most likely care for me rather than her, so it’s hard for her to be sociable, especially at the age of 17.
My little brother is Sam and is only about 6, and really hasn’t developed a huge personality, other than looking cute and getting cookies. He was tall for his age and he had short natural black hair. He watched all the shows about children going on adventures and exploring the world, he watched a lot of the Japanese cartoons. I watched them with him too, because I had a TV in my room to keep me entertained, so he came into my room to watch his favourite shows. We bother enjoyed the shows and were jealous of how these children our age got to go on magical journeys and how we couldn’t. He made me a promise one time that when I get better, he would take me on an adventure and we could save the Princess together. I promised him too.
My father is a hard working man. He works in a factory of some sort and he would come home everyday sweaty, dirty and tired. He, I can tell, is disappointed in me. He still loves me, but I feel we don’t have a bond. I guess he would’ve expected a son that could help him with all his handy work and tools, but he can’t get that until maybe when Sam grows up more. I would like to help him, but I’m never available and when I finally am healthy and ready to do work, he gets really mad a me when I do something wrong. If anything, my father scares me. He’s nice, and very loving to my mother, but he just expects certain things from me that I cannot achieve, like become a man outside my four walls of my bedroom.
My mother is one of the sweetest people you could ever meet. She sticks with me and helps me with everything. If I’m not bonded the most with Sam, then it is with my Mom. She is constantly concerned with my well being, healthy or not. Whenever I’m feeling better, she prevents me from going outside too far and not to jump around too much. She says she wants to hold on to me as long as she can and nothing can take me away from her but myself. I’ve promised to her that I will live to see her as old as grandpa. She cries whenever I talk about my dying state, but I cheer her up as best as I can. Sometimes I hear her cry in the night when I wake up from nightmares.
I have no friends, because I’m never well enough to go to school or socialise enough to make a friend. I haven’t even learned the name of anybody outside of my home and family. I wish I did have friends though, but since I’ve never been around any, I completely choke whenever I see one when I’m better. So even if I tried to make friends I wouldn’t be able to, because I’m too nervous and afraid. The closet I had been was when a girl had touched me to help me up, after I had fallen down. She helped me up and was off, as quick as I found some one, was as quick as I lost some one.
I woke up from my sleep early the next day. I rubbed my eyes and looked around. My mother had cleaned my room and Sam was watching my TV, sitting on the edge of my bed. I sat up a little and he heard me shuffle.
He turned around and asked, “You Ok Ozzy?”
I nodded and told him, “I’m fine. Well, I have a headache, but I’m good.”
Sam walked up to the TV and turned the volume down. He said, as the green volume bar decreased, “I’ll turn the sound down, so you can sleep.”
I stopped him, “Turn it up Sam, I want to wake up. What show is it?”
Sam put the volume back up and sat back down on the edge of my bed. He bounced up and down a little and exclaimed, “Pokemon!”
We watched about 5 minutes of the show; then my mother came in through my door. She gave a gasp of surprise and ran to my side. She hugged and kissed and cried out a glass of water.
She joyfully, “I’m so glad to see you Ok.”
I reminded her, “He just hugged and kissed me and cried about me being alive yesterday. I’m Ok now.”
She told me as I was hugged, “You can never get enough hugs and kisses from me. Everyday is a miracle you’re still here and that deserves some affection here Ozzy.” After she showed her love, she stood up and looked at Sam and the TV. She got cross and scolded me, “Kick your brother out of your room! You have to rest! You won’t get better with all these distractions!” Mom scooted Sam out of the room and turned off the TV. Mom walked up to me and tucked me in more. She walked out the door halfway and told me, “Sleep tight so you can be better.”
I asked her before she shut the door, “Can I help you in the kitchen?”
She yelled no and slammed the door.
I sighed. I rubbed my eyes again and sat up. I ignored my headache and ignored my Mother’s orders and I got out of bed. When I stood, my head boomed like there was a fight in my brain, but the thrill of being out of bed surpassed the pain. I walked around a little and put on some new clothes. I opened my door and walked forward towards the dining room. Through a doorway, into the kitchen, I saw Mom, but I slipped by her without her noticing. There was a stairway to my left, but I headed straight to the garage door. I opened it up to see Dad changing a tire on Mom’s car.
“Hey Dad.” I said.
He jumped a little, because I had startled him. He turned around and looked at me. He glanced up and down quickly and turned back to his work. He asked, facing his tire, “You’re up already?”
I nodded. Then I remembered he wasn’t looking at me, so I answered, “Yeah. I’ve been up for 15 minutes.”
He nodded. He pointed to his toolbox and asked for a Philip’s. I didn’t know what he wanted, but thankfully I grabbed the screwdriver he wanted. He used the driver to wedge out some dirt stuck in the grooves of the hubcap. I began to walk away, when he asked, “How you feeling?”
I rubbed my temples and told him, “I have a really bad headache, but I’m fine, I guess.”
Still with his face to the wheel, he asked, “Why aren’t you in bed?”
“I snuck out past Mom.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to see you and Catharine.”
“Why?”
“Because I haven’t talked to you guys.”
Dad stalled a little and then he tightened the caps screws and stood up. He walked toward his workbench away from me and said, “Ok then.” The conversation was over like that.
I left the garage and went down the staircase next to the garage door. At the bottom of the stairs I saw our basement. At the other end of the basement, there was a door, which was Catharine’s door. I proceeded to it and the sound of pop music got louder. I knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” The voice inside called.
“It’s me, Ozzy.” I replied.
“Yeah?” She asked.
“Can I come in?” I asked.
She stalled a little and then opened the door. She walked back to her make up table and finished some mascara touch ups. I stepped in and looked around.
She demanded, “Do want anything? Or are you just wasting my time?”
I replied, “I was just saying hi.”
She rolled her eyes and turned towards me. She yelled, “Ok, you seem so eager to hear this so fine, ‘I’m glad you’re alive.’ There, that’s as good as I’m going to get, so beat it!” She waved me away and she shut the door.
I shook my head and walked back upstairs. At the kitchen, I slipped by Mom again and I walked towards my room. At the end of the hall I turned left to finish off the hallway with two bedrooms, my parents and Sam’s. Sam’s door was open and I walked in. He was playing with his action figures and I watched him for a little before he noticed me.
He exclaimed, “Hey! You should be sleeping.”
I shook my head. “I want to walk around a little.” I explained. I observed his set up of toys and saw that a dinosaur and a space marine were exploring hidden passages inside one of Catharine’s old dollhouses. I asked him, “So what’s happening now?”
He explained, “Rex got his tail hurt, so him and Buzz are looking for Band-Aids.”
I laughed and invited him into my room to watch the rest of Pokemon. He gladly accepted. As I walked through the door I bumped into Mom. She was mad.
She yelled, “Now I know you can’t fake a stroke, so you’re very sick. Get into bed right now after you take your medicine.” I sighed and did as I was told this time.
A few weeks had passed and I had made a full recovery. My Mother was over-joyed, as well as everyone else who had problems with my illness. Dad immediately went to teach me how to sand drywall and Catharine immediately invited over friends and Sam, well we walked to the park together a block down the road. Mom thought of throwing a party, but came to her senses that a party might make me worse. I was happy to be at my, decreasing, 100%.
When Sam and I got to the park after I learned how to sand drywall, Sam ran to the nearest slide. I jogged to catch him at the bottom of the slide. He went up and down a few times and then I tried too for one of my first times. Sam got bored and moved to the swing sets and started swinging. I walked slowly towards the swing next to him and sat down. I didn’t swing though. Sam was high in the air, but I stay still.
As he passed by me like a car, he chanted, “You know what day it is tomorrow? You know what day it is tomorrow?”
I stalled and pondered, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I shrugged and asked him as he swung by me, “I don’t know. What?”
He screamed in joy, “It’s your birthday!”
I grinned, but corrected him not too harshly, “Nice try, but I’m going to be 12 the day after tomorrow.”
“Close enough.”
I nodded and agreed and then for the first time, thought of what adolescence would be like. Being a teenager, in only one year, made me feel proud and powerful, because I defied the odds of surviving my illnesses. But I knew deep down that I would have to have some will power to survive until then, because even though I’m over my stroke, my body has become increasingly weak and vulnerable to anything. But I did try to remain hopeful and not give up, because, obviously, I didn’t want to die and I didn’t want to leave everything I hold dear to me. I never wanted to leave; I just wanted to live.
Sam woke me up from my daydream and told me he wanted to go home. I got up from the swing and watched Sam jump from his. I caught up to him and held his hand. After I walked a few steps I felt a sharp sensation over my chest. It passed quickly and I thought it was just a little cramp. As soon as we exited the park, a shot of pain went up my leg and stopped. I shook it off a limped for a few steps and the recovered. I didn’t know what was going on. Then on the sidewalk, I went light-headed for a moment and I saw stars. I wobbled and stalled and Sam stopped with me to comfort me. I was dazed for only a few seconds and then I shook it off. I continued walking a little more and by the time I saw our house it happened.
My vision turned black and all my muscles seized up. I fell flat on the ground and I screamed in pain. Sam got scared and ran to our house. Sam didn’t even reach the house before my Mother rushed to my side. I screamed and screamed; like it was the only way I could possibly survive. My body soon began to have a seizure and I blacked out.
I was rushed to the hospital, after the ambulance came. Everyone came along and were waiting outside the emergency room. In the emergency room there was nothing that could be done, but hope for the best and give me some basic medication. I survived and I was sleeping in a hospital bed. Our family Doctor, Dr. Pliskin, told the family my condition, “I’m sorry everyone, but Ozzy here has only a few days to live. He has an extremely devastating chemical imbalance in his body. Too much is being created, too little is being created and even enzymes and acids that a body shouldn’t normally be able to make are being created. I’m sorry, but his body will stay unconscious until the fateful moment arrives.”
Mom pushed in front and cried, “What caused this? Was this because he was outside?”
Dr. Pliskin explained, “Perhaps, but it seems to have been a genetic factor. Perhaps puberty was the initiation of his unique condition.” He signed. He looked at me and shook his head, “What a birthday present. I’ve known him since he was a little tot. Now he’s dying, and not even a teenager.” He wiped a tear and told everybody, “We can do nothing here. Take him home and let him rest somewhere where he loves. It’s all we can do for him.”
Mom, being so emotionally shattered, turned away and cried. Everyone else was crying a little, but not as much as Mom. I was taken home and put into bed where I rested my last remaining hours. The family was so shaken that no one talked or did anything. No meals were cooked, no handy work was done, no make-up was applied and no dinosaurs were injured. The family sat around my bed until at least 11 o’clock, speechless. The time finally came when the left for bed and left me to rest in peace and they left for their bedrooms.
I was left alone, untouched, in my room for two days. With every family member checking my pulse when they walked by my room.
The night finally came when my family slept and let me sleep too. At last the entire home was at rest, except for me. I was having a nightmare. I was in darkness. There was nothing around me and I was alone and frightened. It was cold; I shivered. My body was actually cold and my breath froze. I heard a dripping noise. Then I heard it splatter. The sound echoed for what seemed an eternity. Then silence; dead, cold silence. The shivering of my body rose as my feet began to feel colder and colder. Then my shins felt the same freezing sensation. I looked down and saw some sort of thick liquid travel up my legs from a puddle. The freezing goo coiled around and around up to my chest. Then I tried to run, but the liquid didn’t let me. I could only move my head now; the ooze had coated my arms. Soon it reached my neck and then it surrounded my face. Then it opened my mouth and entered my body.
I wanted to scream, but I was so cold and so paralysed. The fluid happily plumaged into my stomach and coated it’s lining too. It worked its way through and coated my intestines. The blood vessels opened up a path for the liquid to travel and control the bloodstream. My blood was replaced with the cold slime and soon enough it spread to every part of my body, like cancer spread multiplied an infinite amount of times. Soon the outside of all my organs were coated and controlled. Every single, individual cell was now being consumed and destroyed by this liquid and I could do nothing.
I could do nothing, but feel myself be, literally, replaced by this substance. The cells could only hold so long and everything inside was replaced by this goo. Soon there was nothing left of me, but I was able to scream again and I screamed as my existence shattered like glass.
Then I saw Mom’s face and the others in the background. They were fading away. I was able to run and so I chased after them, but I could reach them. I heard their voices calling my name.
I ran and ran and then I hit a glass wall. Then the family turned into scientists and I was inside a test tube. One scientist walked up to the glass and knocked on it. He said through the glass, “There you are…”
Then all I heard was explosions when I woke up screaming. At least I thought I was screaming. I looked around and saw everything differently. I jumped out of bed and landed on the ground. I saw new colours that were impossible to see before. I was panicking like I had woken up dead. I shuffled around my room, thinking I was screaming seeing all these impossible colours and seeing them from impossible perspectives everywhere. I thought that I was suffocating!
I soon realised that I wasn’t in danger, but just confused. I soon realised that I breathed no oxygen, I needn’t breathe at all. I soon realised that I saw everything from the perspective of every point in my body, as if I were covered in eyes. I soon realised that directed from my head region’s “eyes”, I saw infrared light, meaning I saw heat and no longer the colours of the rainbow I used to know. I still stayed in panic, but I was no longer crashing around where ever I was.
I sat on the ground for least hours looking around, sensing and feeling the light around me. I had been so concerned about my sight that I remembered my sense of touch. I ignored what I saw for a moment and concentrated on my sense of touch. I felt heat as well, to an extreme one couldn’t ever imagine. I felt a cold, flat surface and I felt a rough, slightly warmer surface below me.
I still had no idea what had happened to me. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I had no awareness of my physical presence. My initial movement was panic, but now that I had calmed down I still had no idea what I was. Soon I realised I had an appendage. I saw heat all through out my “body,” but I wasn’t able to depict my self-appearance and see where this appendage was. I concentrated on my appendage as much as I could, by either “looking” through it or feeling through it or basically thinking and thinking over and over that I had to recognise its existence. Soon I began to somewhat learn how to move the appendage. I felt it sliding back and forth against a smooth surface; feeling the occasional bump to increased proportions as before.
If one surface was smooth and the other was rough, I must have been resting against a wall on the floor. If I was feeling the wall, then this appendage must have been behind me. After I got a vague idea of where this appendage was, I was able to apply this knowledge of my own existence towards finding the rest of me, if any.
I was able to feel, eventually, that this appendage was some sort of antenna-like tentacle coming out from the back of what felt like to be m head. This antenna had a partner right beside it, so I had two of them. I felt my head being some sort of fold or extension of “flesh” similar to the shape and style of a woman’s breast. It also felt like some kind of reptilian head with a rounded nose with the whole head bent over with the nose pointing on an angle to the floor.
I began to feel my neck, which was behind my head, and it was extremely short, almost non-existing. I felt shoulders and arms. Now that I had arms, I was able to actually touch my front side, rather than sensing its existence. I moved my arm, which had a rather flimsy, rubbery or even useless elbow joint; which felt like it was unnecessary to even have, like it could be changed.
I moved my arm toward my newly discovered chest. As the arm pressed against, I felt my new fingers. They where actually four tentacles attached to my wrist, put in an “X” shape, with 90 degrees between each tentacle/finger.” I felt all over my body and discovered another arm, with four tentacles in an “X” shape on my wrist. I moved down my chest and found my pelvis. Then I went further down and felt my legs, which also had a useless feeling knee and it had the same “X” shaped hand and four tentacles, but now it was my feet. This meant I had prehensile feet now.
Now that I thought I had my whole body discovered, I tried to stand up. I only knew of the existence and the basic movement of my newly acquired body; I didn’t know any of the advanced “tentacle” movements, which were beyond the laws of joints and flexibility. I knew they could move any which way, but I didn’t know how, so I rather struggled to get all 16 of them flat on the ground to push myself up. I got them down eventually. Then I pushed myself up and I was able to stand upright. When I stood up though, I heard (My sense of hearing was the only thing that didn’t seem skewed, but felt normal) a thump on the ground. I moved my hand towards where the sound came from and I found one last part I hadn’t touched yet, my tail. It was the longest of all my appendages, being around my height in length. My antennae, being a meter in length and my fingers, around 20cm in length. My tail felt prehensile, obviously, because everything else was prehensile too.
I braced myself for my first steps and they were successful. The toes covered much surface area making it easy, but I had to move the toes from flat to pinch together to flat again in each step, which was my main problem. I wobbled and strained a lot the first steps, but I quickly learned the basics of standing. Again I couldn’t handle anything more advanced then that, because I still felt uneasy or completely ignorant about my new self.
As I exited my room and I saw new surroundings then my four walls, I noticed that my facial vision or the light that I sensed from my face, was seen almost like normal, with a little bit of infrared light mixed with it. Finally I saw colours and shapes that I was used to. I was able to see my home in its original way and my new infrared way. Since I now knew I could see normal light, I decided to go to a mirror and see my appearance more clearly.
I reached my bathroom door slowly and then I reached for the knob. I concentrated and I slowly opened my four fingers and then clasped them on the knob. I turned my, still uncomfortable, wrist. I opened the door, didn’t bother to turn on the light and stepped a few steps before I turned around and saw myself.
I was more or less correct. My first surprise was that I was a cyan colour; all over. My size didn’t change at all; I was still around four foot six. I had two antennae-like tentacles coming from the upper back of my head. They were about two and a half inches in diameter and narrowed to a point just below my waist. My face assumption was correct too. It was a fold of bluish flesh over my neck in the shape of an egg and the point, pointed downwards on a little more than a 45 degree angle, more of a 60 degree angle. My chest looked fine, but had the form of a thinner, stronger man. My arms were not flabby, sort of had the form of a basketball players’ arm and my hands, with the fingers pointed downward, and reached my thigh. My hands were started with a flat-like palm that was about the size of antennae width and then the four tentacles came out perpendicular to each other and were about 20 cm long and were about an inch thick all its length, with the tip rounding off. I tried to look at my tail, but I couldn’t see through the mirror looking though my back, so I just had to pull it from behind me and look. It was very long and its width was constant through out its length except for narrowing and pointing near the end. I continued down and noticed in shock, that my private parts were gone! I guess I let them go, because I didn’t know its use besides peeing and pooping, so I gathered that in this new body I didn’t need to go to the bathroom. I finished my glance off with my legs which were very similar to my arms, but the legs were only slightly longer and the feet only slightly bigger. I was fairly accurate with what I felt and saw.
I needed one last look at myself, so I decided to turn on the lights in the bathroom. I knew I was getting more dextrous with my fingers, because I was able to move only one all by itself and flick on the light. My infrared vision went haywire, because of all the heat flying around now, but I got used to the new colours eventually. I glanced again in the mirror and confirmed again that I was a cyan colour. But before I left I noticed the most important new feature. I will never forget this moment, when I saw the shower curtain through my body. I twisted back to look at the curtain and turned back to see the mirror. I was transparent. Light could pass through me.
Then thought of something I hadn’t thought of before. What if I wasn’t flesh? What if I was no longer even a solid? I relaxed my chest and hit it. A small, weak ripple flowed across my torso and faded quickly. What if I was some sort of living liquid? What if I was capable of shape shifting and regeneration?
My mind burst with ideas and concepts and questions and ambitions and optimism! I knew now that I wasn’t dreaming. No emotion like this could ever have been felt to this scale. The reality and the complexity of what I had become, was so enormous, that I barely edged out of the bathroom and into the living room before I collapsed onto the carpet.
When I hit the ground I “exploded” or “splashed” into a puddle. The feeling being separated like this was very unique, but easy to explain. I felt all my pieces; all my small little puddles as if they were there own appendages or miniature selves. I felt through them, heard through them, saw through them and was them. Even though I was completely ignorant on moving all these hundreds of new appendages, I didn’t have to fear, because they all had some sort of force to be merged together. Some outside force, out of my control aimed and pushed them along in the direction of its nearest self and with a little of my control or help, my pieces slowly formed together. The process took ages, but all my little droplets had merged together and I was now one large pool, but I had no idea how to reform myself.
When I was in this sate, I felt overwhelmed at the colossal amounts of possibilities of shapes I could form. I could move every molecule of whatever liquid I was in any range, pattern or position. I felt like I was in a sate of crisis and that I was going to be stuck dead forever and that I’d never be cured and never be able to be free to roam around in a new found life.
But I needn’t fear again, for that same uncontrollable instinct helped me and guided me on which molecules to move and where and how strong to I have to hold on to them. I felt the urge to move this molecule and then that and then this and soon enough I made a lump pop above my puddle. I somehow knew that I had to build upon that lump, so I did. Molecule after molecule I built this lump until it formed my head. Then an uncontrollable desire came over me to reposition some molecules like this and like that. Soon the first few inches of my antennae were constructed. Then as I re-built myself, I was urged to push the perimeters of my puddle inward to give rise to my head and shoulders now. This process took even longer then the last, but after helping these mysterious blueprints, I had fully reformed my original self.
I looked around and felt around and I was content with myself, I was exactly the way I was before I had fallen. Even though being liquid I could learn to form other appearances; this form was my default form and my body somehow knew and could help me, reform it perfectly. I finished forming my feet and I wiggled the toes.
I knew then that I couldn’t stay here. I couldn’t live my old life anymore. I was no longer Ozzy Belway, I’m a new organism and it is not to be inside this house. I thought of the consequences of leaving. Sam and Mom would be heart broken and Catharine and Dad would be speechless. There were more reasons to leave then stay and I couldn’t sit and think them over, I had to choose my fate now before the rising sun, I felt, got any higher.
So I wrote a note. I grabbed some paper and a pen and quickly practised some writing with my new body and it was hard enough barely literate to write this final farewell message:

Dear family:

You can see Im not sleepin in my bed. I have to go. You wood never no why Im leeving but I am. I can try to say why but you never beleeve me. I just want to say bye to all of you.
Dad: I no you want a man to fix things and stuff but Im not a man anymore and I wont ever be a person too. Sorry Dad. I will try to make you proud of me real soon. Don’t worry I will be more than a sick little kid. I love you.
Catharine: I hope I spell your name good. Im leeving and your probably be real happy. Im sorry I made you get no frends. Ill be ok and leeve you alone forever. Ok? I still love you too.
Sam: Im very very sorry Sam. But Ihave to go with out you. I know we promiss to go on a advencher together but I have to have a advencher by myself. I turned into a monster last night and I have to hide or they can get me. Don’t worry. I will be a good monster and help peeple! You’re my best friend in the whole world!
Mom: Im going to be ok. Im not sick anymore. I feel best ever! I have to go cuz no one will like me and the cops will catch me cuz Im a monster. But Im still your little boy inside and I will say I miss you and love you evry day! Bye Mom. I love you as much as all my new arms can go and give you that big of a hug. I love you all. Bye.

Love Ozzy.

I opened the door of my house and walked into the woods to the side of our yard in hope I’d find something. Something that might explain the question, why?
© Copyright 2005 Brad Weaver (UN: namelesstailed at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Brad Weaver has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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