The Friend I Always Needed [bxb]

1. Hated Appearances

Just a heads up for anyone reading this, i've been writing for awhile now, and I still have a lot to improve, like how to describe things for example. So i'm sorry if it's bad! I apologize in advance. This is the first story that i'm publishing whether it gets votes or not, and i'm really nervous, so please make sure to be nice with your words. Don't worry, you're allowed to hate on some of the characters, I don't mind. Enjoy!

Daniel's pov...

"You guys got me a cat?!" I cheerfully applause, with a optimistic smile on my face, but not because I had just accomplished something. I was quick to stand out of my seat, but immediately regret it when my legs become wobbly and unstable, and I was no longer able to balance myself out. I reach out for the closest item, which was the arm of the soft, cotton gray couch. This cat doesn't understand how much better it just made my life. Hi, my names Daniel Clampitt, and my life has been very adverse. As a kid, I loved following in my brothers footsteps, I wanted to be like them, be daring, do bad things that I knew wouldn't end well, they were my inspiration, my idols. I wanted to feel like a man at the age of ten, but until the matter happened, was when I soon realize that I was only acting and thinking like the child I was.

That incident put me in the hospital with a fractured leg, and I was soon faced with the anguish that I would have to be put in a wheelchair until my leg healed. Over the years, I grew very impatient, and I started loosing hope, thinking that my leg was never going to get better, and i'd never be able to walk like a normal human ever again. I wasn't depressed, and I never had suicidal thoughts, but I did want to cut off my leg. At least then, I would be able to get a prosthetic and be able to walk again. But with the help of my older brother, and his encouragement to keep believing, my leg was finally able to heal.

I thought I would be joyful about this, celebrating with triumphant, but I hadn't walked for six years, when I first stood up, the first thing I did was stumble to the ground. I've been practicing and going to therapy every Thursday to help me walk again, but it doesn't seem to be getting any better, and i'm getting tired, dejected, and frustrated. Why did this have to happen to me? Why was I so dumb and empty minded back then?

I groan and recede to the couch, with a pouty sigh escaping my mouth. "If you want the cat, you're going to have to walk to it." Said my mom, heedlessly upsetting my mood even more than my legs already had. I hate everything about my legs and my body, I wasn't manly enough, I abstained myself of walking all these years, only to come out looking like a dweeb. I was short, 5'5 to be direct, with copper brown hair, that reaches the top of my neck, in a wavy, shaggy hairstyle. I have bangs expanding across my whole forehead, that often get in my eyes when the wind is extra strong on some days. My eyes are big and doe-like, adding onto my innocent look and personality, and I have long eyelashes. The color of my eyes is a jungle green, that are often mistaken as brown by the black prescription glasses that cover my eyes.

I have a pointy nose, with a small brown mole on the right side of it. My only accomplishments, the only thing I wanted in life was to look like a man, have abs, be strong, get dozen of girls, and be popular, that's how I envisioned my life looking, but I was the complete opposite. When I stood out of my wheelchair for the first time, without having to take a shower or go to bed, I was so dissatisfied and disappointed that I didn't at least have the height, how am I suppose to get taller?! That's not anything I can control! It's been six months since then, and my walking has gotten a little better, and i've moderately gotten over that, I have to live with my looks no matter what, it took a lot of convincing to shatter my dreams of being manly like.

I guess, the advice that helped me the most was from my dad. He told me that i'm still only sixteen, and I still have a lot of growing to do, and this isn't the end yet. So in a way, i've only temporarily given up my dream. I don't want it to take over my mind, knowing it won't happen any time soon. I let out a prone sigh, as my eyes scan the well decorated living room, that all of my family was gathered in, and I push myself to stand from the couch. My legs become shaky as I start to struggle, but I soon use the muscle in my arms, swinging them back and forth and trying to steady myself while also bracing myself for the big fall.