Creative Writing: Grave's Disease

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I had been very sick the last two years. Grave's disease had taken over my life, just as alcohol takes over an alcoholic. This disease ate away at my immune system, reeking terror on my physical being and leaving it feeling and looking like a train wreck. Thanks to this disease, my once light coco skin now held a pale, volcanic ash-like color. My sickly body held a mere fifty pounds, which is way under the average weight for an eight-year old. The hair on my head, once flowing like a long river of chestnuts, now was short and thin, and sometimes fell to the floor like rain drops. Eyes that used to be small and a beautiful brown now were a dull coffee color, so enlarged that they looked as if they were going to pop out my head. Worst of all
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