The story of why I have no bones

I was seven at the time when I broke my first bone. It happened to be my femur, and my mom was just perturbed because she had to take me to the hospital which was a mere disconcert she must have had pulsating through her at the time. It was a panicking moment to have to take your child to the emergence room. She always said that if we got hurt doing stupid shit, she wasn't taking us to the hospital. Of course, that wasn't true, and my mother took me to the emergency room where I met Dr. Keeien for the first time. I remember him being such a charming man, one who swept my mother off her feet with his simple, flirtatious behavior between them and at the time I was so ignorant with my adolescent mind that I had not seen the connection between the two adults and their conspicuous behavior. Then, something peculiar happened to me when I turned nine and I perceived that my bones weren't growing with my body, so we had to go meet Dr. Keeien again and we got this conundrum sorted out, which, by this time, wasn't a problem for my mother as she got to see Dr. Handsome again just to disregarded her wedding vows to my father at that time which I at the time still didn’t correlate marriage vows to promises.

Dr. Keeien informed my mother about this exploratory treatment that was just authorized by the hospital, which, in turn, should resolve this issue of my stunted frame. My mother was willing to put me up as a guinea pig as long as she pulled that scent of sterilization with Dr. Keeien’s expensive cologne through her pores she was his dummy to do and say what she was told. It was said to my mother that the new bones would fit me until it was time for my next growth spurt, but then they would have to replace all of my bones again. I might have been young, but I sure did understand this procedure my mother had then signed off on, and away I went to a very special operating room where I was drugged, and my entire skeleton, piece by piece, was removed from my body.

Dr. Keeien kept my original bones to be sent to his specialized lab to be studied and meticulously examined, and I had no idea why they wanted my bones at all for being so young at the time it was hard to comprehend such large adjustments in life to begin with. It was hard getting acquainted with my new skeleton structure, but eventually I was moving again back to normal. My new bones fit me well until I turned twelve, and I again had come to the realization that I had stopped growing again. We had gone back to Mr. Keeien expecting answers, and he said that the issue was the not surgery where they took away my bones and replaced them with ones to start with and that this was normal for the results of new experiment and the doctor recounted to my mother that these bones would grow with me so only the same amount of time more or less was his promise. It was then that I went into the procedure a second time, and this time, before I was put to sleep, I could see an audience above me, ready to take notes on the operation.

When I woke up again, it was odd being in my own body, but I figured it out, as I had before, and made my way through life with an artificial skeleton and a new way of growing which wasn't in my favor anymore and i had been sick of the treatments and just wanted my body to be ordinary. I was happy to be taller however than the other kids my age by the next year after my surgery. Then my bones had faded away once again, and I was hitting thirteen years old so hitting this radical change in my life was in dire need of acceptance and this time I wanted the operation more than ever. My mother was ready to marry Dr. Keeien by now and their promiscuous behavior had become an understanding in my mind which I wished not to comprehend at that age, and she just followed along while they kept taking my bones away. I wondered what they were doing with the bones in the lab and where my original skeleton had been sent and how Dr. Keeien studying my skeleton in a conscientious manner was such a high demand on his part of this process. Dr. Keeien really enjoyed bones; he praised them so highly that he took them out and kept them for a living.

I was a teenager and again ignorant of the surgeries that were happening to me, just as long as I was growing tall. Then I hit my twenties, and my mother still was the one sticky enough to follow me to see Dr. Keeien, for she refused to leave me alone after such an invasive surgery. At this point, my mother was properly sanitized and in the operating room with all of the doctors running around, flirting with the Dr. Keeien as he sanitized himself for this procedure. Then my world went black, and I was getting my skeleton removed, i remeber my body being numb and dead to me which was a godsend favor that i can never repay to that debt for to feel that torture was a hell i never wanted to be in. When I woke up in the hospital, my mother was essentially sitting in Dr. Keeien’s lap, and I was dazed and sluggish as I felt the new bones under my flesh wiggle and slide around as they adjusted themselves to be my new frame.

I can't tell you why, but in my body it felt like they took the same bones I had and, like elastic, stretched them to my correct height. I felt wobbly, more wobbly than before, as I remember making my way through the hospital in my new lanky body which made me so uncoordinated and unbalanced I thought I was never going to be the same again. Of course, the discharge took longer than usual as Dr. Keeien and my mother exchanged numbers for the first time in all the years, both of them happening to be a widow and a newly divorced bachelorette; the timing just seemed quintessential as even then they began snuggling against each other in the private room that I was sent to. My body didn't feel the same after that last procedure; it felt like my bones were old and decrepit. I remember my joints popping out of socket everytime i tried to move. My body is now in a more deteriorated state altogether, but at the time, it was the first time I was realizing there was something wrong with the bones they were putting inside of me.

My mother wheeled me into the hospital because at that time I had even lost the mobility to walk on my own, and the shame of having to be pushed around by someone else was a humility I soon learned to enjoy. We filed a complaint with Dr. Keeien, and he said there was nothing that could be done because it happened to be the last bone practice replacement project for the department, which shut down after recording all of my surgeries in the years prior. So my body began to deteriorate more and more over the years. It went from being able to be pushed around to having to be bedridden for days at a time before being able to stretch out my incapacitated body and have someone carry me to my wheelchair so that I could feel the fresh air which has always been my greatest pleasure. Being ridden from the outside is a diabolical life that I wish not even my greatest foe who deserved this fiendish life for he was destined to die a slow death, one like my own. But instead all I received was bitterness and the incapacity to do anything on my own which is wretched and unjust but it was the way fate guided me and my mother signed away my life.

Dr. Keeien ended up marrying my mother, and by the time I was thirty, my bones had dissipated to nothing, and there were a lot of machines keeping me alive. I had a catheter set up with also another tube and bag that caught all my liquid feces. I had a tube that went down my throat which fed me my mushed meals of pink sludge and of course I was set up with an IV for hydration but also one for morphine for being boneless was a pernicious way of living if i could say the least about it. I could go on for hours about how life is unjust and how the doctors refuse to give me enough drugs to live through this torment of life which I am forced to face not by choice. Tests are always being done on me, and recordings were made of me as other doctors I didn't recognize came into my room to observe me up close like i was some sort of freak fascination, their subject, and all of this process started when I broke my femur for the first time in my life. I have no bones now, and I lie in a hospital bed twenty-four seven waiting for the hours that the nurses wheel me outside so I can feel the fresh air and smoke a cigarette which you can see the inhale of my lungs through my flattened skin. I don't know what was done to me or what kind of bones were used to do this procedure, and I don't know what happened to my original skeleton. Hell, I don't even know how I was still alive. All I know is now I have no bones, and my life is a living hell.