Outlier

Unsatisfied End

Waking up with Lizzy at his side Andrew reaches into his pocket, pulling out the little painted image that had burdend his sleeping mind.

the simplistic image depicting him as the hero, as their saviour, yet all he sees when he looks apon himself is a broken, powerless man with too many failures to count.

the night prior had ended on a stale note with Andrew and Lizzy retiring back to his home after some light drinking that followed Lucy's bed time.

having not had a drink in so long the little they shared clearly is still taking out ist effects on Lizzy who remains asleep on the yet to be cleaned matriss, that lays on the floor. sitting up being carefull not to wake her Andrew ushers himself to the edge of the matriss.

crawling to his feet he removes his shirt, stepping towords the mirror to look at his slowly healing body; bandages are still draped across his body covering the circular wound in his shoulder and a multitude of small nicks and cuts that spread across the upperhalf of his torso.

he unbandages his hands, anylising both sides of them; the blitsters had left small pockets of skin that had pelled away long ago  and fresh skin had replaced it but in the centure of his left hand remains a large haggard scare. he fosuces on the scare for a moment, lifting it up to the dim light and catching the glint of the ring on his finger, the same ring he had palced on just yesterday, and yet hadn't had enough time to appreciate.

his eyes fall down to Lizzy, before his head returns to the mirror, looking over his body all the bruises and swelling having been releaved by Lucy apon his returne.

running his fingers across his scared palm he focuses on the mirror, looking around the room from the mirrors perspective, he locks his eyes on the razor that sits atop the long abandoned top bunk.

turning slowly he extends his arm in the directon of the razor, feeling the lack of energy in his body as he does so, tensing his muscles he attempts to force the razor to his hand to no avail, resulting in his hand shaking from the tension in every part of his limb.

he holds his hand out for as long as he can, relentlessly straining his arm forcing it to obey his will, and yet it resists the only feeling passing over his hand being the restlessness of his muscles.

swinging back to the mirror his jaw tensed he once again looks down at his hands, useless in his own eyes.

"are you okay", comes Lizzy's voice from the bed.

"yeah, im fine", he groans swinging his head over his shoulder to look at her as she pulls her head from the harsh comfort of the mattress; her blond hair erratic in its placement.

"yeah, like that was convincing", she remarks as she gets to her feet, dusting off the oversized clothing that had replaced the white dress she had wore the night before.

"i cant do anything", he utters through gritted teeth, while still facing the mirror lest she see first hand the utter hatred he possesses for his own ineptitude.

placing her small calluse hands on his shoulder she peeks over him looking into his eye reflected in the mirror, "it'll all be fine, we have time to figure this out, together", she smiles, lessoning the feeling of deep sorrowful loss that continues to dawn on him.

"what if i never get better... how am i expected to look after everyone here if i cant even shut the entrance anymore", he remarks, sliping out from under her delicately placed hands.

"you've never needed your powers to look after them, why would you think that matters now", she tries to reason.

"no one would stand by me if they knew i was powerless, im strong thats why they look to me... thats why they beleave in me", he says, becoming emotive with the movements of his self proclaimed useless limbs.