All The Way (Septiplier)

One Hundred Fifty One

•Sean•

My shaky breathing scared Mark. He told me not to move, not to talk. He couldn't hold my hands because my fingers stopped moving properly. They bent and we're crooked, because the burns had ruined them.
I couldn't walk, I didn't have enough muscles in my legs anymore. My legs were wrapped up in white bandages, packed with gauze. They changed them every few hours, which gave me a glimpse of the oozing, bloody, shriveled, disgusting mess that I had for a body.
I couldn't sit up, I didn't have enough strength. When the ceiling collapsed, it crushed most of my ribs. I couldn't sit up because I would hurt myself worse than I already had.
My face was tight. I hadn't seen it yet, I hadn't seen what my face looked like. When I ran my fingers over my left cheek, it felt like a scan. One big scab. My forehead was oddly smooth, and I couldn't open my left eye. It was swollen shut.
I couldn't talk anymore, either. I couldn't talk because I had inhaled lots of smoke, and the skin on my neck Bruner so badly that it burnt right brought. My vocal chords got messed up. They said hey could fix them, but it would take a long time.
"Hey." Mark smiled gently when he came in, so I smiled back.
It was all I could do.
"They're going to replace everything in the apartment. They also figured out how the fire started." Mark began.
I raised my eyebrows.
"Someone in the apartment next to us. It was them. They were cooking up some pretty hard drugs. I think they said meth. Anyways, the stove exploded because it was a gas stove, the chemicals weren't doing very good for it. The guy is actually okay, he wasn't even home at the time. He was out somewhere, but he forgot to turn the stove off. He came back and his home was burned to the ground." Mark explained.
I had tears in my eyes.
"He wants to meet you. It was you who got it the worst. His kitchen is right across the wall from our bedroom, where the headboard was. You got the worst of it. He wants to meet you and properly apologize, because he's going to jail soon." Mark finished.
I pointed to the notepad they had given me so that I could communicate.
I wrote down on the clean sheet of paper what I wanted.

I want him to pay for what he did. He should see what he did. This is all his fault. It was him who ruined my life.

I was miserable.
"Okay. I can arrange this. But maybe don't tell him he ruined your life." Mark very, very gently kissed my right cheek.