Against All Odds

Chapter 7

Within my pure boredom these past few weeks, I've resorted to drawing.

Morgan already came by this morning to get me into my chair and take me to physical therapy, so for the rest of the day, I'm pretty much just stuck here in bed.

I could call a nurse in and have them help me back into my chair so I could at least look out the window again, but I don't want to bother them.

I'm not very good at drawing, in fact, most of the sketchbook is now covered in borderline scribbles.

But if it helps me take my mind off of my lifeless legs and how badly I want to be intoxicated right now, I don't mind how bad it looks.

A knock on my door breaks me from my concentrated state.

"Come in," I called out, expecting it to be just another nurse coming in to check my vitals.
My gaze fell back down to my sketchbook as the person shuffled in.

"Cameron?" An all too familiar deep voice rang out and my head instantly shot up, taking a look at the tall boy standing at the foot of my bed.

"Tyson, hey." I closed the sketchbook, setting it off to the side as he looked at me, unsure of what to do.

I sat up straighter in bed before shifting my gaze to the chair beside me.

"You can come sit down." He nodded, making his way over to my side where he plopped down in the plastic chair. 

"Sorry I haven't visited, just your Dad..." He trailed off, running a hand through his messy brown hair as I nodded.

"I know and I'm not mad. I think it was for the best, I'm not necessarily the best influence." I chuckled as he looked at me with sad eyes.

"What?"

"Did you hear about Martin?" I shook my head.

"No, I haven't had my phone in like two months. What happened?" He let out a breath, hesitating.

That's when I knew whatever he was about to tell me wasn't going to be good.

"Fuck, I didn't want to have to be the one to tell you this man." He ran his hands down his face.

"You can tell me Tyson, whatever it is, I can take it." He shook his head.

"Martin, um he...he died in the accident, Cam." My gaze dropped to my lap as I began to pick at the hemming of the blanket draped over my legs.

"Fuck."

"I guess he wasn't wearing a seatbelt and when you guys hit that tree you got the brunt of it and he flew out the windshield onto the road." I thought back to that day when the 911 operator asked me if I could see Martin and I said no. That entire time he was out there dying on the road, alone.

"W-what about Chase and Levi, are they okay?" I tried my hardest to keep my voice steady and the tears at bay.

"Yeah, yeah. Levi has a concussion and got some stitches and Chase just has a broken leg." I nodded. I got the second worst of it.

"Um, so how are you doing?" He asked carefully as I sighed.

"I can't feel a thing below my belly button." He slowly nodded, taking it all in.

"Do you think you'll be able to walk again?" I shook my head.

"Nope, this is it." He reached out, placing a hand on my shoulder.