My New Home

61. Numb III (3rd Person)

Carrie ended up knocking out for the next few hours after getting home. Only being awaken by Hank.

Hank gently shook her. "Hey sweetie." He whispered quietly. She didn't wake after that, she was deeply in sleep.

She groaned softly. Hank sat down on the bed and said again. "Carrie, sweetie, will you wake up?" He waited for something, anything- and nothings given to him.

He booped her nose and she softly slapped it away, Hank sighed. "Alright you can have your sleep. But I will be leaving some pizza for you."

Hank stood up and put a paper plate with two slices of pizza and a water bottle onto the nightstand.

He kissed her forehead & left the room, leaving the curtain open.

Carrie opened her eyes after hearing him go down the stairs.

She sat up and looked at the pizza, she grabbed the plate and inhaled the two pizza slices. She finished the water bottle in three gulps.

Relived, she let out a sigh and fall her head into her pillows.

She turned her head over to her shower looking exit and shook her head. She heaved herself out of bed, with deep pain in her screwed up leg, she stumbled to the curtain.

She slid it shut, the bar making a screeching sound. She cringed and turned back to the bed. She limped over and nearly fell on her ass.

She really had to use those crutches. She still didn't want to though.

She collapsed onto the bed and lifted her leg up and breathed hard. She was in pain, there were no more pain killers for her. She had to bare with the pain, the exhausting pain.

She threw the blanket over her & stared straight up at the ceiling.

Her mind was still replaying memories of her father, all the time. She remembers her emotions but can't feel them...she can't.

She knows every little detail, every place her father had touched but just can't feel it. She knows it was scary, that she was scared. That she was angry with him.

She almost wished she did feel it.

Then at least she'd feel...like a human.

She just feels like an empty vessel. Like she'll never be okay. Truly at least.

She'd try her best for her brothers, for Hank...for King.

Speaking of the fluffy creature, King nudged his way through the curtain and waddled into her room. The Golden Retriever pranced around the room, sniffing everything before jumping onto the bed.

"Hey." Carrie petted King before he moved away to the bedpost with her backpack hanging on it. It was still closed but King was sniffing it intently.

Carrie lifted herself while grabbing the plain black & red backpack. She sat back down, her hurt right leg jolting in pain.

She cringed and started opening it. She didn't find anything interesting for King, no food, but did find a pair of school issued dull scissors.

She takes them out and examined them.

She slid her backpack back on the floor and looked at the scissors.

She felt an overpowering need to use them. But not in the way she thought she would.

She didn't put them to her arms and drag them into her skin, no.

She brought the clippers to her black hair which has grown to an uncomfortable length, she normally has it short. The shorter the better.