Eighteenth Birthday

I sat in my room, staring at the ceiling. It was the year 2167, April 17th, and it was my birthday. But I didn't really have anyone to celebrate it with, I mean, I had my best friend, but she was busy that day. So, my dad being gone and my mom being dead, I simply sat in my room, alone, tossing a basketball up and down in the air.

All day I had felt strange. My body was sore and my head pounded. I didn't know if I was sick, or maybe it was because I hadn't eaten anything that day. But it just didn't feel good, if felt wrong, and all day I'd just been spacing out completely, disassociating from everything around me.

I glanced over at the clock. It was 5:47 PM. I lived in a city called Myrd, in the middle of Montana. The city had grown a lot since the year it was founded, 2078. It had actually become one of the most prominent cities in the world, not necessarily in terms of population, but it had large wealth.

Except I was not wealthy. I worked to survive, barely able to afford my small apartment. I had to drop out to work full time. The world was fucked on its head. Inflation was at the highest it has ever been, making the rate of homeless people, especially young people, rise drastically over the last ten years. Sure, Myrd was a wealthy city, but the rich hogged all that money for themselves, and schooling was just too expensive, meaning many just didn't go to college. Prices for everything were rediculously high, especially housing.

My home was a one room house, with a small kitchen, bathroom, and that was it. I slept on a small, uncomfortable bed, which I also used as my couch. I had a tiny TV, but I didn't have the money to afford any gaming systems or anything like that. All I had was an ancient DVD player.

The world was corrupt-not just Myrd-but everything everywhere. The government had total, absolute control of everything. The people were just slaves, even in America, the so called "land of freedom."

*Fucking bullshit.* I thought, slamming the basketball up at the roof, catching it with a loud slap as it flew back down at me.

From month to month, I was barely able to afford a single meal a day and I only ever had just enough money to afford rent. For a house as small as mine, and the cost of said house, was one of the lowest prices on the market.

I was supposed to meet up with Yamari at 6:30. Meaning I probably should have started getting ready to leave, but I waited all the way until 6:12 to even get up. I would be late.

I winced as I moved, throwing my feet over the edge of my small bed as I hunched forward. There came a loud pop from my back as I moved. It felt like I was going through severe growing pains, even though I was fully grown. I wondered if something was wrong with me.

For a moment I wondered if I was becoming one of those things... but then I laughed at myself. If I was a Kokkaku, I would have transformed at 16 years old, not 18.

Kokkaku are strange humanoid mutations that people don't know much about. An estimated 6% of humans in America are Kokkaku, and that is just an estimation. Kokkaku can hold a human form, but they can mutate their bone structure. Their bones will, quite literally, grow from inside their bodies and pierce through and tear the flesh and skin, creating an exoskeleton. They apparently get inhuman strength and speed too, along with unnatural healing abilities.

I had never seen a Kokkaku myself, and honestly I didn't think I wanted to. They were monsters, creatures of the night that tore through unsuspecting humans. At least that's what the media said, although, I couldn't help but be curious as to whether or not they actually were monsters or if they still had human emotions.

I honestly knew near nothing about them, although they intrigued me, I really didn't care that much. I've also never actually seen a murder that was caused by a Kokkaku, other than here and there in the news, but often times I imagine those could be fake. Right?

The media lies. It always does, it always has, it always will. It is corrupted to the core, everything America once stood for-freedom, rights, peoples' happiness-has all went out the window, gone. It's now all about politics and money, the only people that matter being the rich, while the poor suffer in the mud and gutters.

I hated it. It was all so wrong.. and it was why my mother died. All this poverty, grotesque disease, all of it, was truly disgusting and I despised the world for it.

But I'd decided something a long time ago.

I don't want to be a part of this fucked up system.

I refuse to be another slave to the world.

I refuse to be another nameless corpse that died starving and malnourished.

I refuse to play this world's game.

And so, on my 18th birthday, I'd say goodbye to the one person that mattered... and then I'd kill myself.