While You Closed Your Eyes

Chapter 7

This is only the beginning they tell me. There is a long road ahead, yet.

Why don't they get it? I just want my Peter back.

"Leah," Maddy says as she comes in, rolling in a tray of food. "You need to eat."

"I'm okay," I reply without looking up from my Cosmopolitan magazine. It's not even that good, but my friend Hannah brought a bunch of them for me the other day along with some schoolwork that my teachers think I can tackle without a lesson prior to getting them. They're so stupid sometimes.

"Leah," Maddy says firmly. "Do you know what happens to people in your condition who don't eat?"

"Let me guess," I say, I make sure to add a pissy edge in my tone, "organ failure, depression, yada yada yada, and death. Am I close?"

Maddy says nothing.

"Right."

"Look, if you don't eat you won't heal, emotionally too, and if you aren't doing well, then your stump won't heal, which means we can't fit you for a prosthetic for an even longer period of time that what's already gone by, so unless you want those things to happen, eat your dang food," Maddy says angrily.

I look up at her in shock. She never gets upset, always a kind heart about her.

"You better be eating by the time I come back in or else," she says again before she leaves.

She's left the tray right next to me. I stare at it. It's no different food than it was yesterday. Gross hospital food. Way to cheer up my mood, right?

I pick up their metal spoon and scoop up a small bite of their strawberry Jell-O. The Jell-O is always hard to screw up if you're being paid to make it. I pick up the small bowl and eat small bites. Jell-O is enough for now. It seems to be all I can handle in life right now.

Setting down the bowl on the tray, I push it away from the bed and lie down. Time for a nap, haven't had one of those in a while.

***

"She looks like she's healing nicely."

"We'll fit her for a prosthetic this afternoon and we can get her discharge papers ready."

"That's...thank you."

There's a voice I recognize. The last voice belongs to my mother. She went home to take a break last night, and apparently she's back now. She's still tired. The voice is drained from all energy. I open my eyes to a group of doctors talking to my mom at the foot of my bed. My mom is the first to notice I'm awake. She looks over at me with a weak smile.

"Hey, sweetie," she says. She looks weak but her eyes still glisten. "Did you hear anything the doctors just said?"

I nod. "Only a little."

She smiles, an honest to god happy smile, "we get to go home today."

And I smile back at her because for the first time in a while, I'm happy and looking forward to something good.

***

"Leah, is it?"

It's the fake limb guy. He's here to fit me for my prosthetic. He appears to be in his 60s. He has very thin grey hair with a receding hairline. He has a fair amount of wrinkles, but they accentuate his bright blue eyes. They shine almost like my mother's do.

I nod.

"I'm Calvin," he says and offers to shake my hand. I look at it a moment before I give him a weak handshake.

"I want you to know a few things right off the bat, alright?" he says with a soft face. "I am very good at my job so I don't want you to be scared or nervous."

I shrug a little. "Alright."

"I've brought a few samples, but all I mainly want to do today is measure your stump, we'll schedule appointments and we'll go from there," he talks at a nice pace for me to process what he's saying. "May I?"

He's pointing at my leg.

"Oh, yeah," I say, I'm wearing shorts, all the time, and I lift up my gown to my hip so he can measure my stump.

"Has it been hurting often?"

"Yes, but they tell me it's normal," I respond.

"I'll set you up with an antibiotic to help manage the pain, alright?"

I nod.

"You're kinda lucky that you were able to get a stump this clean, it's easier to fit the size."

I shrug. "I'd still rather have my leg."

Calvin gives a small laugh. "Yes, but think of it this way, you're giving someone a job, something to look forward to, money to feed their family..."

I say nothing. I don't care if my disability is giving someone a job. I want my leg. I can't run and I won't be able to walk on my own for a long time. I was one of those people that did every sport they could. I can't do volleyball anymore, for sure, basketball is more than likely out of the question. I have nothing to do anymore.

***

Mom brought some fresh clothes to the hospital so I have something that smells like home to go home in. It's my favorite Harry Potter sweatshirt and a pair of Nike sweats.

"You about ready, hun?" I hear mom say from the hallway.

I've lived in the hospital for weeks on end, I don't even remember what my house looks like, and I still have the ride home, the hospital I'm at isn't close to where I live.

"Yeah, I'm just finishing up a few things," I say as I look around the room. Everything is bare, no decorations or balloons or stuffed animals sent by friends and family wishing me a speedy recovery. It's all in the car ready to go home.

I finish gathering the last of my belongings and take a deep breath. "I'm ready."

The door opens and my mom walks in with bags on her shoulder. My crutches are already in the car, I wasn't ready to use them a tom just yet, only little by little. My bag on my lap, she rolls me around the bed and out the door.

"Wait!" I say quickly as she turns the other way.

"What is it, Leah?" Mom replies.

"Can I see Peter one last time before we go?" I ask.

Mom doesn't say anything but she turns the wheelchair around and takes me to Peter's room.

"I'll give you a minute," she says. "Give me a holler when you're through."

She closes the door behind her.

"Oh, Peter," I say and before I realize I'm doing it, I am crying.

"I miss you so much," I say once I've collected myself. "You're parents don't even look me in the eye anymore... It's like they think the accident was my fault. And with each day that passes, I think it is more and more each day."

I pause a moment and stare at him. He's peaceful. Peaceful was never his strongest suit, and I don't know if it ever will. And with that I am bawling. My on comes in and takes me away before I draw too much attention outside.

"It's alright, honey, it will all be better soon."

Out of every lie my mother has ever told, that was the worst one of all.

~~~

Hey guys! So they've just ended week 7 at the hospital. Since they've left to go home, chapter 8 is week 8, and interesting things are about to happen...