Do you know who you are?

Chapter 5

NOTE: You might think I am lying but I moved to a different city again but it's only for a months (university is weird here in Austria right now)

Anyway new update, chapter is a little shorter I cut it in half. Thought it would be better than nothing :)

Tell me what you think. How are you liking this story so far?

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In the hospital Louis made progress, slowly, but it was something. Mostly it was chaos. After three weeks of being awake again, he thought he was able to walk small distances. He could, theoretically. During physical therapy he was able to walk holding onto the bars to help him. The first time he did that he was so happy, that he let go of the bar and fell. Luckily he didn't hurt himself, but he was advised to be way more careful.

To say that he was pissed was an understatement. He thought he made progress, turns out not so much. After the incident he was not allowed to leave his bed without someone to assist him. The assistance was only to put him in a wheelchair, seeing as he was not allowed to walk with someone holding all his weight. He was not allowed to lift anything, not that he could. The remote usually fell from his grip and so did a glass of water once.

That's a lie, he at least dropped five of those damn glasses trying to strengthen his motor skills.

Of course all of his therapists found out. They explained to him that he was only to do exercises that were given to him by the professionals, and under no circumstances was he allowed to try things out, not at this stage of recovery.

Apparently, making new memories was a good thing, but Louis didn't think so. He wished he could just forget. Whenever he had to go to physical therapy he dreaded it all day. Without the knowledge of being incapable of doing the smallest human abilities, he would be fine. He would go to his sessions whenever someone told him to, without overthinking it. He wouldn't know that he was injured and how long recovery was. But no. The only thing that was getting better and improving rapidly, was his memory.

He knew who is family members were, remembered the names of his doctors, what he ate three days ago, which honestly no one should even be able to remember that under normal circumstances. Everyone was happy that his memory was getting better, except for himself. What good did it do, he thought.

It was another Tuesday. Time for one of his sessions. His daily task was to try to remember his sessions and be ready 10 minutes before they started. For the sake of his family he listened. Not that he liked going, but they would make him go there on way or another. To save himself from the disappointed looks of his sister, like the last two days, he decided to get ready. Who decided to call it getting ready? He had to sit up in bed and press a button to call a nurse. That's it. He wasn't allowed to walk, not that he could.

„Hello Louis. Ready to go?" During his daydreaming Louis must have missed the nurse entering his room.

„I guess." He shrugged. He was not going to fake enthusiasm. There was nothing to enjoy, and everyone might as well know how he felt about it. The nurse just nodded at Louis in response and they went through the usual procedure of getting him in the wheelchair and to his session.

It was an hour of torture. Today was for his walking skills. Or what's left of those more like. Usually his week looked like this. On Monday and Wednesday he was working on motor skills, like holding things and using his fingers individually for typing or using a remote. Tuesdays and Thursdays were for his legs. They did strengthening exercises, and talking little steps, standing up and sitting down. It was exhausting. On Fridays he worked on arm strength in particular.

Weekends were for mental heath session and small exercises he did alone, with a nurse or a family member. Nothing too exhausting, but according to his PT it was necessary to make progress. This had been his week ever since he started talking again.