Owen

But She's Gone

"You're happier than normal." Jaelyn commented.

I pushed my fingers between hers. Well she helped significantly but it was more than I could do before.

"It sucks a little less not having that collar on all the time." I told her. "That and watch."

I looked down at my right hand, focusing as hard as I could to make the slight movement happen. It was a tiny sliver of hope trying to spark within me.

"What?" She asked.

"I mean I know it's not huge." I said, my good mood deflating. "I couldn't move my right hand at all."

Jaelyn's eyes widened as she registered what I had been talking about. But it was already gone. The hope that was trying to develop, flattened. Probably like it should be.

I was even more thankful I hadn't made a big deal about it when my dad and Jase were there the other day. I was still too mad to even talk to them so I hadn't mentioned it.

"That's great baby! How exciting!" Jaelyn exclaimed trying to make up for it.

I shrugged. "It's nothing. Probably won't get much more than that so whatever."

"It's awesome Owen. I just didn't know." She kissed my hand that was intertwined with hers. "Really."

I sighed, my mood still down even though she tried. "Yeah, better than nothing I guess."

                               ———————

Because my left hand was not quite as useless as the rest of me I'd figured out a make shift way of eating. Which even though it took twice as long and I had many failed attempts it was far less humiliating than having someone feed me. Once I'd been cleared for food and they removed the feeding tube, I didn't have enough coordination or muscle control to handle getting my food from the plate to my face. So at 18 years old I sat there while someone else spoon fed me like a fucking child. Now, as long as I stuck to some pretty basic food I could manage. The nurse on hand had cut it for me, which was still a little degrading but I was willing to settle for it. But only because the chicken they gave me was easier to handle cut up a little.

"Sure you don't want some help?" He asked, the knife and fork clanking together as he sat them beside my plate.

"Yeah I'm good."

He lingered beside the bed, probably waiting for me to give it a go but I wasn't going to embarrass myself like that. I'd eat it cold before I'd let someone watch me muddle my way through a meal. Or at least I'd try. Between the hospital staff and my family I hardly ever had any peace.

"Hit the call button if you change your mind." He said on a sigh before exiting my room.

He was one of the few male nurses I'd encountered since I had been here. Maybe I should have felt more comfortable with a guy but I just felt even more pathetic watching him all able bodied and shit. I just wanted him out.

I waited for the distinctive sound of the door clicking shut before I began my exhausting eating routine. It was more just concentrating, silently praying to whatever higher being was out there that my muscles would cooperate. If I got my hand in the right spot, hovering over a piece of chicken I had enough movement in my thumb and finger to pinch a piece of food. Then it was just making sure I got it to my mouth before my muscles inevitably fatigued and I dropped it.

It was a long process and frustrating as fuck but at least I felt slightly less helpless.

————————

My dad was packing the handful of things that him and Jase had left in the room. Mostly just clothes and a handful of flowers people had brought. I never understood that. Why bring flowers to someone in the hospital? All I'd been doing was watching them die.

"You ready for Wednesday?" He asked.

He'd already asked the same question multiple times the past few days. Ever since they gave me a discharge date.

"So I can go and do the same thing at another building?" I snapped. "Yeah I'm stoked."

"God I wish your mom was here." He mumbled to himself.

My eyes darted to him but he wasn't looking at me, he just continued doing what he was doing. My mom was something rarely talked about. Only because she was an old scar, healed as much as it could but never quite the same. So much time had passed, I sort of forgot what life was like with two parents.

Jase and I hadn't inherited much from our mom. Which was good in my opinion. But sometimes looking at my dad was too much like looking in a mirror that made you age by some 30 years. We got his tan skin and his dark hair and brown eyes and bone structure, both of us varying slighting in tones but there was no doubt we were related. His Greek heritage had completely overtook our mom's pale complexion and light hair.

The one thing that set us apart though was how we handled things. Jase became a neurotic mess, stressing and worrying and talking himself stupid. I was always the one that just got shit done and my dad shut down. In all honesty I wasn't sure he ever started back up after my mom died. More like going through the motions. It wouldn't be the first time I wondered which one of us was like her.

"She'd know what to do. She always was better with these sort of things." He added, his voice far off and lost.

I snorted, rolling my eyes. "Yeah okay."

He stopped bagging things up, his hands resting on his hips as he straightened himself up. His eyes squeezed shut like he was trying to gather himself.

"I'm doing the best I can Owen. I don't know how to deal with this any better than you do."

He looked tired, more so than normal. I knew it was because of me. The stress I was causing now.

"I know." I admitted. My sad form of an apology.

My dad crossed the floor, the bed dipping under his weight.

"I have to tell you buddy, when I got the call, I thought I lost you too." I felt the dam I had built up spring a leak as tears rushed to my dad's eyes. But even more so I felt guilt creep in. "I know I've sucked a lot as a dad over the years. But I don't know what I'd do if.."

His voice caught, my own facade threatening to unravel if he kept going. My dad never cried. If he had it was only ever in private.

"Dad. I'm sorry." I reached my left hand out for him.

He grabbed it, the feeling of my hand in his a foreign thing to me.

"Me too Owen."

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