Your Memory Will Carry On (Mikey Way)

Persistent Humor

*Chris's POV*

Today is Friday. I woke up early Wednesday morning.

My mom is sitting in the room with me just crying. It's really confusing me, because I don't know what to do or say to make her feel better.

Quite honestly, I don't even know why she's the one crying. The last six years of my life are locked up in some dark corner of my mind and she's the one crying? I can't remember my own best friends and she's the one crying.

Get a grip mom, please. We never really saw eye to eye on anything. I was always more close with my dad than I was with her.

Even now, being aware that my dad is dead and being aware that I forgot, I'm not grieving him like I thought I would. I guess, subconsciously, my grief has come to a tolerable point.

"Mom, why are you crying this time?"

She sobbed and I got frustrated. But I won't take it out on her, because then she'll feel worse. Mikey walked into the room then, and I relaxed a little. I looked over to him and scooted over in the bed, patting the spot next to me. He came and sat, and I laced my fingers through his.

I know that we aren't an item, but having him here, knowing that he's here for me, calms me down. I just wanted to be close to him, always.

"Mom, please."

"It was always your dream." She said, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. Ugh, mom, seriously! Complete sentences.

"What was always my dream?"

"To be a nurse!" She wailed. "It was always your dream, but now you can't do that and- oh! It just breaks my heart!"

If you can picture a stereotypical mother, being overdramatic with big arm movements, you can picture my mother.

"Mom, please don't cry over that. It's not really bothering me." I told her. Honestly, I have no desire to work in a damn hospital after spending so much time here. So clearly, I didn't love it too much if I don't want to be a nurse anymore. "It was my dream, not yours."

"I know, but you wanted to be a nurse for a long time." She said, blowing her nose into a tissue. I rolled my eyes.

We had gone over the fact that I had to drop out of college. I can't remember high school, so how can I do college? One day next week, during the Seven Day Project, I'm going to my dorm room to get my shit and then I'm moving in with somebody. We haven't decided yet.

I think it's really sweet of the guys to have thought of the Seven Day Project to help me. It shows that they really do care about me.

Then, Dr. Walters came in. He didn't have a wheelchair or a clipboard. If he came in with a wheelchair, it meant I was going somewhere, and if he had a clipboard, he had to tell me something. So if he doesn't have either, then what the hell is going on?

There was someone new with him, and he introduced himself as a physical therapist.

"Christina," He said, grabbing my ankle and shaking it, "how do you feel about trying to walk?"

"Oh hell yes!" I said and flung the blanket off of my legs and onto Mikey. He got up then, and held his arms out to me. I grabbed them with my hands as I scooted to the edge of the bed, throwing my legs over the side. I let my feet touch the floor, and then I used Mikey for balance as I stood up. I didn't even bother to wait for the therapist, seeing as I knew how to walk already and Mikey would be there to catch me if I fell.