What They Made Me

    Everybody knows the story behind Wolverine, you know the X-Man. They covered his bones in metal to make him nearly unbreakable. He didn’t like what they had done, but all in all it really didn’t do that much harm to him either. His life continued in much the same way it always had, so long as he never got taken to the hospital. I wish my story had such a happy ending.

    I was never really all that, um, normal. From birth my parents were pretty sure there was something different. I mean they named me Franswa who does that unless they know that you are going to end up a freak, I only wish they hadn’t been so afraid. I wore gloves everywhere, they told everybody that I had very delicate sink. That the slightest thing would give me a rash, they were lying. The truth is that with one touch from me, the smallest contact with my skin would cause your bones to begin to melt. They would liquefy and seep out of your pores. You could try and fight, but the same touch that would end your life would also ensure that you didn’t mind too much. Maybe that you even enjoyed it. I lived with this my whole life, from birth clear up until now, seventeen years later. When I was younger I used to dream of becoming like superman, you know like on “Smallville” that show about Clark Kent growing up as a farm boy. I used to think that I was like him, that one day I would be able to use this strange power of mine for good. I know better now, now I can never be anything more than what they made me. A monster.

    Despite all of that my life didn’t get really strange until about eight months ago, that’s when they began to show up. I am not really sure who they are, but they certainly know who I am and more importantly what I am. They first showed up at school and I really didn’t think much of it. They looked like any other state people here to see where the funds had been used and how much more they could take from the inner city kids. Typical yearly cut backs nothing for me to worry about, I didn’t take any art classes or music ones either, they could cut anything they wanted to and I wouldn’t care. But then they showed up at my house, the same men, I guess they thought I wouldn’t notice. They said they were inspectors for our landlord. That the apartment building had just been sold and new management wanted everything inspected. They never did inspect any of the other apartments.

    I was already suspicious, but everything came to a head when my parents sided with them. I don’t know what they told Mom and Pop, something about them being able to fix me or other such nonsense. But there they were one day when I came home from school, Mom had already packed my bags, and Pops helped them chain me to the car. Neither of them cried or even waved as they took me away. We drove for hours, I’m not really sure where we ended up I slept for most of the ride, but when we got there that’s when the real horror started. They began testing, on me, on my DNA, on my skin, even on my bones. I don’t know what they found out and I don’t think I want to know, the tests hurt enough. I really don’t want to know what it told them.

    After the tests came the injections, these hurt even worse. I don’t know what was in the injections, some sort of concoction they created to make whatever my power was stronger. Pretty soon my appetite dropped, I didn’t want to eat anything and what I did eat I threw back up. Then came the day they tried to spoon feed me, they tied me down and forced the food down. The man who was feeding me made the mistake of touching my face with his bare hand, I felt better instantly. That was the first man I ever killed. Whatever was in those shots had made this curse so strong that all it took was one touch, no more than a minute long, and all the bones in them moved to me. The bones didn’t just liquefy and seep out pores now, now they seeped into me. Now it’s the only thing that can keep me satisfied. 

    They didn’t lock me in that night and when I got out there was no one else in the compound. They had seen the monster they created and they wanted nothing to do with me anymore. I ran all night long that first night and most of the next day as well. I don’t know where I was trying to go, just away from that place, away from the awful place. Now I keep away from towns for fear that I might hurt someone. I sedate my hunger on animals, but they never really fill me up. I try not to hurt anyone, but the pull is getting stronger. Someday my control will falter and more people will die. The death count will rise, that poor worker, dear old Pop, loving Mother, all gone. Soon others will join them.