Second Chance
For the first time in his life, he was able to take a comfortable breath.
"Hah!" Liam jumped awake out of the bed.
"I can breathe!" he screamed as he looked around, searching for the doctors that usually gathered around him.
But there were no doctors.
The plain white tile walls had been replaced with a larger wooden-paneled wall adorned with paintings.
The smell of alcohol and medicine had disappeared. Instead, the room smelled like cheese.
His face soured as he realized that the smell came from his own body.
"Damn…" He covered his face with his hands, and upon closer inspection, his fingers looked like sausages.
"This…"
He looked down to take a good look at his own body, but all he could see was a belly folded one atop another.
"Doctor!!"
Why he was in a new room, he didn't know, but right now, he didn't care that much. He sat atop his large bed, his lips quivering and his eyes tearing up.
Not tears of sadness—tears of joy.
He looked at his hands once more, touching his face.
It was only a few minutes ago that his body had nearly no mass.
The white room fit him quite well, as he watched the television, mimicking the moves of the Mixed Martial Artist.
He knew every mixed martial artist to have entered the sport.
Every move mastered with nearly perfect footwork.
But only after thirty seconds of standing up, carefully mimicking the moves, he felt a hint of cramp creeping up his glutes.
"Ah…" He carefully paced back and laid his crooked back onto the stiff white bed.
He looked at the clock and smiled as he recorded the time in his notes—he had not been able to even stand up a few years ago, but now he was not only able to stand up, but replicate movements.
His hunched back had also straightened itself.
His muscular dystrophy had made it nearly impossible for him to have any muscle, impossible to stand up, to do anything, to even live.
***
That was as much as he could remember.
"What happened then…" he whispered as he tried recollecting his memory.
Nothing.
"Alright, it doesn't matter. The doctor will figure it out…" He paced around the room as quickly as he could but quickly huffed and puffed as sweat collected on his forehead.
He brushed all that away as steps approached the mahogany door. He quickly took his blanket to cover his nakedness.
He struggled to cover his entire body, so instead, he laid on the bed where he could better cover himself.
The door swung open, and what Liam expected to be his military doctor, Dr. Andrews, was instead a slender girl in a dark long dress pushing a cart.
As she met Liam eye to eye, he could already tell that she was not fond of him.
"Uhm, where is Dr. Andrews? And where am I?"
She lifted her dark eyebrow before ignoring the questions and picking up a letter from the cart. She opened it with a blade hidden in her dress.
"My Lord Liam Maddach, I will read the decision made by the Elders of the house."
'Lord Liam Maddach?' As he heard those words, his heart sank.
This was no medical house.
He revealed his hand that had been injected countless times, but he couldn't find a single scar or any evidence of a needle.
Before he could panic further, the girl continued:
"We, The Elders of House Maddach, with careful consideration, have decided that Lord Liam Maddach, seventh son of the Baron Gorath Maddach, will in seven days be revoked of his nobility and all of his privileges and rights as a noble of House Maddach. Upon this decision, Lord Liam may receive a fair compensation decided by the House and may take his official possessions. This decision has been backed by Baron Gorath Maddach. The Young Lord may prepare for his departure upon being read this announcement."
She folded the paper, leaving it on a table, before handing a plate of steak to him.
"My Lord, your elk steak," she said in a lighter tone of voice.
"Uh, thank you. Leave it there, please." He pointed towards the table.
Pausing, she stared at Liam, confused, before leaving it on the table and bowing before leaving the room.
***
His name was Liam, but it was not Liam Maddach, he was not a Lord, and this was not his own body.
'This is not my world…'
He looked out the window. The world outside seemed more colorful, more alive.
'Surely, this is not my world.'
His heart was beating three times faster than normal as he smiled.
A few minutes ago, he had been on the verge of death, fantasizing about a miracle—a cure for his illness.
All so he could make his dream of being a Mixed Martial Artist a reality.
Right now, all those wishes and prayers… had been answered.
His smile grew wider.
I'm fine.
A noble.
In a body with no illnesses.
Liam stood up, closing his eyes, imagining the television in front of him, mimicking the fighters.
Sweat trickled down his back. His new body ached—not from weakness, but from exertion.
He could finally feel his muscles sore, not cramping, but burning from use.
Ten seconds passed.
Twenty seconds…
Thirty seconds…
A whole minute.
He stopped, dropping to his knees.
Tears fell freely down his cheeks.
A memory surfaced—a prayer he made long ago.
After listening to an old man complain about his wasted life, Liam whispered:
'If you give me a chance to live without pain, without sickness… I will live like there's no tomorrow. I will not waste it. I will pursue my dreams, no matter the cost. Whatever price I have to pay… I promise, I will do it.'
He remembered it like yesterday.
His fingers clenched into a fist.
His heart pounded as he took a deep breath, steadying himself.
He closed his eyes.
Thank you…
Thank you…