To put things simply, school sucked today. I felt like a complete fool. People treated me fairly well, apart from the jerks who view themselves as royalty—even though nobody else does. I kept screwing up. I was dropping things all day, stumbling through the crowded halls, and avoiding certain topics that I knew would set me off. Overall, I despised every moment... especially her.
I can still see her eager eyes peering at me through the crowded halls just aching to be needed. I don't mind accepting help, but I refuse to be a charity case. When it comes to Lynn, that's exactly what her eyes were pleading for. She wanted to save me. She wanted to be my hero. Why? Why does she care so much? She doesn't even know me anymore. Her reaction is what I'd expect out of my friends, and even they didn't pamper me as much as I felt Lynn would have if given the chance.
I rub a hand down my face as I lay face up on my bed flexing and relaxing my stump. My mom said she'd be in in a few minutes to help me prepare for bed. It's such a process that I find myself mentally exhausted from it before it even begins.
Switching exercises, I begin lifting and lowering my left thigh, working the muscles to prevent any tightening. A moment later, my mom enters. Her expression is soft, caring, and I realize just how much I need her.
"You ready?" she asks, tilting her head towards the bathroom door.
She doesn't bathe me or anything; that'd be horrifying and awkward, but she does help me get situated. She bought a shower chair the day I was discharged from the hospital, and that is now how I shower. I remove my shirt and shorts, insistent on keeping my boxers in place. She helps me hobble my way into the bathtub and carefully places me in the chair before switching on the water. She even went so far as to have the shower head replaced with a removable one. She hands it to me before smiling and exiting the room.
Twenty minutes later, my mom helps me from the shower and waits outside my door as I struggle to dress myself. She's been good about giving me privacy. As much as she hates to watch me suffer, she understands that I need this. I have to have at least this time to myself to keep my dignity intact.
Then it's time for the massage, ointment, and wrapping my stump. Even after a month of all this, it still hasn't really sunk in. This is now my life. Everything will take longer now. I can't just jump in the shower and throw myself together if I'm running late for school. I have to wake up an hour earlier just so I can do my exercises, and make up for time wasted trying to get around the house. It's frustrating to say the least. I find myself begging for my old life back on a daily basis. It didn't take long for that dark cloud to come swooping into my life and casting shadows on even the good days.
Fortunately, I've got an appointment on Wednesday to be fitted for a temporary prosthesis. I had a couple complications in the beginning that set me back about a week, but it's finally happening. The idea of having independence again is like a fresh glass of water for my spirit. Things can only get better from here.
Once my stump is covered, I thank my mom and then settle down to begin homework. Teachers were great about keeping me up to date with all the assignments I'd missed over my month of absence, but I'm still a few days behind. A couple of my teachers told me not to worry about the assignments and to just do the reading so I'm on the same page as everyone else, while others didn't even consider the option of letting the work slide. So, here I am, slaving away over one assignment after the other.
I'm on the verge of a mental breakdown when there's a knock on my door.
"Come in," I holler, not bothering to look up from my Biology homework.
"Jamie," my mom says, her voice hesitant when she sees that I'm studying. "There's a girl here to see you." I see the slight twitch of her lips, indicating that she's holding back her excitement for me. "She's cute," she adds with a sly grin.
"Send her in," I say, flicking my pen down on my notebook. "And get that smile off your face," I yell after her as she turns to head back down the stairs. I hear her chuckle and I can't help but join in. My mom would gladly take Cupid's role if ever given the opportunity. Her obsession with romance is borderline dangerous.
"Hi," a quiet voice says from behind my door a moment later.
I glance up, fully set on seeing either Clarice or Penny standing in the doorway, but when my eyes land on the sorry sight of Lynn, I have to hold back a groan. Rather than come off as horribly offensive, I just remain silent. But, from the small frown that slides onto her face, I see that my silence gave off the same impression—which isn't wrong. I'm not the least bit happy about seeing her.
"So," I say, pushing my books to the side and bending my good leg towards me, "you're stalking me now, too?" I pull my face into a pleasant expression as I ask, hoping she'll think I'm joking.
She doesn't. Instead, her entire face falls, her shoulders dropping with it.
"Can I come in?" she questions, her words strained as she loses the courage she must have pumped herself up with in order to even have the guts to come to my house.
"You've already come this far," I say with a shrug. "So, yeah, sure. Come in." I gesture to the swivel chair that's tucked into my desk and she hurries to take a seat as she turns to face me.
"Your room hasn't changed a bit," she says, attempting lightheartedness.
I don't respond. Sighing in annoyance, I throw my hands behind my head.
The room falls silent for a moment, but Lynn breaks the stillness before the tension strangles either one of us.
"I feel like I've offended you in some way," she says, not bothering with pleasantries or to even ask how I'm doing—which, I'm surprisingly grateful for. "If that's true, then I'm sincerely sorry. I get that what you're going through is horrific, and I never meant to add more stress for you."
I don't respond because I honestly don't have anything to say. She takes my silence as a cue that I'm waiting for more explanations. I don't stop her when she continues talking.
"I won't pretend that I understand what you're going through," she tells me as she clasps her hands together and shoves them into her lap. "But you've got to be aware that people are going to be curious." She pauses to take a deep breath. "I'm sorry for being one of those curious people today."
"That's not my problem," I explain, leaning my back against the wall and stretching my leg out in front of me on the bed.
She seems taken aback by my comment, her shoulders stiffening as she sits up tall.
"Then what's the problem?" she asks with a hint of dread in her words. "I mean, I'd been under the impression that we were ready to start fresh and forget the past. You even seemed keen on meeting up with me that Wednesday. Did I read you wrong? I'm sorry if I did. I just hoped we could become fri—"
"See, that's the problem," I tell her, my actions giving away my frustration as I scratch the side of my head. "If you'd just left me alone from the beginning, none of this would have ever happened."
"What?" The gasp that leaves her lips has a tinge of guilt seeping into my chest, but I shove it away. "I don't understand."
"I thought we could be friends again, too," I explain, my voice unsteady with the force of emotion behind them. "But if I hadn't been rushing to meet you that stupid Wednesday afternoon, this never would have happened."
"You're blaming me for the accident?" she asks, startled enough that I can see her eyes glossing over with unshed tears.
For a moment, I hate myself. For a moment, all the pity I've been feeling for myself vanishes and disgust takes its place. I've never been this bitter of a human being before. I've never felt such venom for someone before. But, I can't help it. Every time I remember that day, I remember Lynn's face dancing in my mind's eye. I see her sitting in the library, watching the seconds tick by as she questions whether I've forgotten her or if I've purposely stood her up out of a lack of interest.
In truth, I'd grown to enjoy our conversations—the few that we'd had—and I couldn't stand the thought of her thinking I didn't. So, instead of just accepting the fact that I'd be a few minutes late, I rushed. I hate myself for that. I hate myself for caring about a girl's feelings more than my own safety... more than the safety of others.
"Yes." My answer is ragged and broken, my emptiness revealing itself in my simple response. "If not for you forcing an interaction between us, then I never would have had a reason to hurry back to school and that boy would have been long gone before I ever even started up my motorcycle. My life would be normal right now, if I'd never met you."
"I'm sorry." Her words are flat, but I ignore them.
"If not for you," I continue, purposely ripping at her wounds a little harder, "this never would have happened." My words are like poison darts, and I fling them from my lips, hitting my target over and over. "If not for you, the accident never would have occurred, I'd still have my leg, I'd still have my life, and that little boy would still be alive!"
My voice cracks as I acknowledge the truth out loud for the first time. The words are like a slap to my own face.
I killed someone.
A child.
I clear my throat, running a hand down my tired face before shooting a heated glare in Lynn's direction. For a moment if feels good to take the blame off my own shoulders, but that feeling evaporates when I catch a glimpse of Lynn's crushed expression.
She's not crying, but I can see the devastation written clearly into every line of her face. She stands slowly from the seat, her eyes taking in my broken body and crushed spirit, and then she nods once, sadly, before turning and leaving my room. The door shuts softly behind her and I'm suddenly sucked into a vortex of silent self-loathing.
Now, I don't only look like a monster, I am one.
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There ya have it! Chapter 14, done!
If you're not ready to quit reading just yet, then I'd recommend skipping over to my Inkitt profile where you can read Chapter 15 for free!!! You can click on the external link provided in this chapter and it'll take you straight to my Inkitt profile, or just click the link on my profile.
Happy reading!