Chapter Seven

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Peeta POV-

"Let's just slip this on here." The doctor says, forcing my new prosthetic leg onto my swollen thigh.

I grit my teeth and he straps it all on, "This is how it works." He says unstrapping it and strapping it back up, forcing it up higher onto my leg.

I inhale deeply as he tightens the straps tighter and tighter.

"Now make sure you always have a sleeve or a sock over the stump to keep the grip." He tells me.

I sigh and nod my head.

This is going to be more trouble than it's even worth.

"Now, let's see if you can stand up on your own. Use this if you have to." He says, slipping a cane into my hand.

I try to stand but I can't, my good leg is trembling and the prosthetic begins to tremble too.

But I force myself to stand.

Immediately, I get extremely dizzy when it happens and nearly fall over, the nurse holds me up and I grip onto the cane.

"It's gonna be hard to get use to." The doctor states the obvious.

"No kidding." I mumble under my breath.

He sighs and walks across the hospital room, "Can you try to walk to me?"

I feel lightheaded but the nurse grips onto my arm as I begin to take baby steps across the floor.

"Come on, you can do it." The doctor says as if I'm a child.

He's like 60 and I'm 29.

I'm not a baby and I don't need to be talked to like one.

"Just a few more steps." He urges, sounding the way I did when Willow started to walk.

I try to ignore his childlike comments and just focus on the task.

By the time I have walked maybe five feet to him, I am already winded and weak.

I feel discouraged when I have to sit down.

"It will take a few weeks for you to get your strength back and you'll be walking like nothing ever happened soon."

"I doubt that." I say truthfully.

"Mr. Mellark, I know this is going to be a hard experience for you but being positive will help you."

I sigh, "I'm sorry. I'm just not exactly thrilled about being nearly thirty and having to use a cane." I say sarcastically.

He sighs, "Well, bad things happen, sir and I know this is depressing you."

"It is. I hate this."

"It has to be better than dying?"

"Yes but what about what my wife thinks or my daughter? What about myself?"

"I am really sorry, I can't change it. But you know that if you would've hoped for a miracle-you wouldn't have gotten one. The surgery was the best thing."

"I don't feel like it was."

He sighs, "Your injury was the worst I have seen. I have preformed 37 amputations in my career."

I take a deep breath and hold it in.

The doctor sighs, "Well, would you like to leave it on? Or try to walk around any more?"

"I don't want to walk, but I guess I'll leave it on for now." I mumble.

I may as well just leave it on-I'm going to have to get use to it.

Finding the Missing Piece: Book 6 Where stories live. Discover now