𝐃𝐄𝐉𝐀 𝐕𝐔

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟎𝟐

I've learnt how to deal with the side effects of having CIPA: I have to purposefully walk lightly (in fear of ruining my ankles or feet); I have to predict the weather, and unless I can guarantee it'll be burning or freezing, I have to sleep without a blanket whilst also dressing 'appropriately' for the temperature (otherwise I risk seizures from overheating or hypothermia from, well, the cold); if I go running for long periods, I need to check my pulse to make sure I'm not overworking my heart, and then I need to check myself for injuries that might have slipped passed my radar. There's a lot I have to do to make sure I stay alive. One of the few things I do remember is the rule that I could only sleep with one stuffed animal at a time - and even then, as a child, if they would worry that it'd get too warm, they'd take it off of me. I had to grasp that I was different from a younger age. The worst thing about it all is I know the sensation of touch - I know what impact is. I know when I've been hit, by a projectile, fist, branch - but if I don't notice what caused the impact I have to deal with the fear that I have an internal or hidden injury (that I can't immediately check, all the time). But, at the same time, I want to feel these things. I want to feel the warmth of a summer day - I wanna feel the brain freeze after eating ice cream too quickly. I want to be able to feel my body warn me that there's something wrong, or that I'm pushing it too hard. And I'll never be able to even imagine it. Have you ever tried explaining what heat is, without using temperature? Have you ever tried explaining what pain is, without saying it hurts? That it's sharp or that it aches?

So, I do know about my own condition, Jack.

Another thing that I remember, was being told I was lucky that I didn't have to worry about the pain of a paper cut or indigestion, and that I should be grateful that I'd made it past being three years old. I don't remember their face, or their name, but I'm 100% sure that they were a prick.

He probably raised his eyebrows, underneath that stupid, clumsy mask. "I suppose you're right. I'll let you leave, then, Toby." Jack muttured, taking steps away from the bed and beginning to head towards the door - probably to go into a different room and harass them, instead.

I smiled victoriously - though it probably came off as "smug", as I've been told. As soon as the door had closed, I'd carefully sat up and swung my legs out of the bed - more than happily rising to my feet. With a small stumble, I walked over to the coffee coloured set of wooden drawers, placed on the opposite side of the bed to which Cody had sat when he visited. On top of them were some clothes - most likely left by him, probably whilst I was asleep.

On top of the neatly made pile of fabric was a lime sticky note - I gently picked it up, the corners curling. It was old - I could tell by the now rough, gunky texture of the dried glue. Nevertheless, I began to read it.

𝓣𝓸𝓫𝔂,
𝓑𝓮 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓯𝓾𝓵. 𝓘'𝓿𝓮 𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓽𝓮𝓶𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓸𝓭𝓪𝔂, 𝓪𝓵𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝔂, 𝓼𝓸 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓸𝓸𝓭𝓲𝓮 𝔀𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓫𝓮 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓶𝓾𝓬𝓱. 𝓘 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓽 𝓫𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓪𝓼 𝓼𝓸𝓸𝓷 𝓪𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷, 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱.
- ✗

Despite the thickness of the pen, I could still read the message - especially the X. He'd clearly used a dry wipe marker - the black one he'd use to scribble down more ideas onto his whiteboard, in his lab. I gently placed the note down beside the hoodie and sweatpants.

I began to lift the gown off - making sure I didn't throw my arms in the air too fast or too high, otherwise I could reopen the stab wound. Once off, I tossed it to the side - watching it land on the bed, quickly discarding it and instead holding up the dark blue hoodie. It was faded - almost into a grey - yet the blue was still clearly there. The chords, dangling from the slits in the hood, were uneven at length. At first glance, this would seem out of place with Cody - seeing as he was oh so logical and organised. I've seen him tugging at them when he thinks or when he's bored. Plus, he probably left them in there since, 'I'd rather you chew the hoodie toggles than your cheeks.'