Adorably Abducted ✧ Sparklington/SyndiSparklez

Try

"Excited to go back home?" my doctor tried to make small talk, as he pushed his blade into the tough material of my cast.

"Uh, yeah..." I mumbled, trying to focus on anything but the wound hidden under the bright green cast.

My tender flesh was exposed to the cool air as the doctor peeled the cast away.

I couldn't help it. I looked down.

The skin was wrinkled, like an old prune. Dark purples and blues surrounded a crimson scar, stitches criss-crossed along the cut.

It was healing, but it would never look the same.

The smaller cuts at the tops of my thighs looked fine, some of the scars already beginning to fade.

A warm sponge gently pushed against the flesh, carefully scrubbing away any bacteria that shouldn't be there.

I averted my eyes from my leg, already hating the scar that would form there, serving as a constant reminder of what I've been through.

A thick silence hung in the air, while I wished Tom would burst through the door and say something funny to make me smile.

The doctor explained how to clean and bandage my leg, but I tuned his monotonous voice out a while ago.

I should probably be listening, but Tom can help me figure it out.

Use a damp washcloth to wash the wound, yeah, whatever.

My body flinched as the scissors brushed against my skin, while my arm cast was being pulled away.

I looked once again, observing the damage that had been done.

A long cut this time, from my shoulder to the middle of my forearm, the same red color surrounding it. The doctor used some tweezers to tighten the stitches around the cut, protecting the tender flesh from the outside world.

Within minutes, my wounds had been secured in a soft, white gauze.

"These should heal soon, and you can come it and get the stitches removed in about a week or so. It's a quick and painless process, it'll take no longer than thirty minutes," the doctor explained, collecting his things to leave.

"Thank you," I quietly called out, testing the new freedom I had to move my limbs.

My skin seemed to tingle, as the nerves had regained feeling.

S̴̝̻̻̹̻͇̥͕͙̪̀̄̀̔̅͛̑̇̈́̀͘̕͘ç̵̻̯̩̞̼̥̞̤̟̘̹̀̈͊͊̑̈́͒̕a̴̡̧̧̛̟̭̫̞̩̻̣̘̭̩̐͌̕͜r̵̹̱̙̅̈́́͜ͅs̴̤͍͓̦̯̜̬̆̍̐͐̈́̈̅̿̏̍̚̕ ̸̨̭͓̹͈̟͕̦͒͋̀ǒ̵̺̦̲̩̋̓͊̇̓̔̐͆̆͂̈́̎̚n̶̪̝̙̪͕̯̦̩̹͍̰̓̐̏̉ ̶̨͚̭͖̬͕̬͙͕̘͚̐͋͒̒̂̏͗͗̓̊͊͐̌͐͠y̵̧̖̼͓͚̭͕̳̓͐̓͊̈́͛͛̊͂̉̆̾̚ŏ̴̥̼̟̙̾͊͋̈͌͆͘͘͘͝ͅừ̴̙̰̅͆̊̊̀͐̄͛͘͘ṛ̸̗͕̣̺̜͔̔͒́̄̐͋͛̂̅͊̑̚͘͜͜͠͝ ̴̨͈̠͕̮͎̥̫̘̟̩̥̣̲͌̒́̓̈́͒͑̂̐̌̂̈́̋̒͐ͅś̶̢̡̤͍̙̝̏͊̎͊̈́̉ͅo̷̧͉͍̖̝̎͆̈́̉̏̀́̑̃͑͐͋͗͠͠ǘ̴̱̻̳͉͚͙̣͖̫̖̌̑̊l̸̨̢͙̩̼̹̮͐͒̌̋͑̓̕.̸̨̡̰̜̭̌͒̏̈́͗̏̓̀͋̀̿̈́̉̽̃

I am tired.

S̶̨̢̙̺̰͍͍̰̳͇̪̖̼͐͛̈́̀c̷̡̧̧̻̝͙͓̩͎͊̏̾a̷̛̖̖̮͇̼̅̾͋̔̀̕r̴̢̤̣͓̉̀̂̀̋̿̂̔͋̑̎̚͝͝s̸̡̗̫̻̪͎͇͔͚̻͆͌͆̂̍̀̇̿̿̇́͘̚͝ ̸̢̛̫̳̩̝̮̘̞͇͕̰̤͓̫̇̂́͂̊̈͐̿͂͝ó̴͎̤̰͚͔̝̪̼̱̩̪͉̭͇͋͒̑̉́͛̋̄̋͜n̵̨̛͈̼͎̣̭̻͙̩͓̠̑̐̾̄̊͌̿̌͌̕̕͜ ̶̨̖͚̼̝͇͙͙͉̫̜̲̩͔̋͗́̀̽͐̀͆̀͌ͅy̶̛̳̭̤̞̻̯̙̫̯̻͎̺̼̒͗̔͐͋̏̉͂̿́ȯ̴̞̟̲̹͌̊͝u̷͕̜̱͂̿̑͑r̸̢̡̟̫͉̟͇̮͕͖̀́̿̎̈́͘͜͜͠ ̷̡̡͍̭͎̝̞̑s̸͕̹̩̗͇̪̞̯̟̹͛̈́͋̊̀̋̉̊͜ǩ̴̭͆̎͜ị̶̣̈́̊́̀̀͜n̵̡̢̡̰͔̱̺̜̯̲̘̥̻̼͊͜.̸̗̖̟̭͈̻̬͔̰̔́̐̀́̈́̂͐͜͜

I am weak.

Ş̴̢̡̜̠̲̣̯̯̫͉̈́́̓̀͜ȏ̵̢̺̭̬̟̯̼͇͇̣̭͂ͅm̶͍̠̟̠̼̖̭̑̾̓͗̃̇̊͆͌͘͝͠ḙ̴̭͙̬̒ͅͅͅ ̶̨̛̛̪̝̞̯͙͎̬̤̣͉̰̓̒̊̽́̈́͝õ̵̡̧͈̹͕̳̰̫͇̪̍͑̋͂̌̓̔̓͝n̴̛̪̹̻̞̖̠̰̟̩̘͂̿̌̈́ ̶̡̡̨̗̮͕̬͉͙̞̰̑͋̋͌͂̿̃t̸̨͑̽̋̋̍͛̃̄̐̈́͝h̷̨͕̿́̏e̶̲͐͗ͅ ̸̡̡͇̪̝̼̄ò̷̗̅͗̔̌̏͠ȗ̴̢̨̧̧̞̲̯̼̃̃̐̌͆͑ẗ̴̡̞͖̦̳̬̣͉́́̊̽͆̿̂̕̕͝͝͠͝͠͝ͅͅͅs̶͕̗̭̽̐̀i̸͉̪̯̣͉̓̔̈́͒̋̀̕͝͝ď̵͖̫̲̯̩̳̐̿̑̍͛e̸̲͈̝̜̪̟̬̙̞͊̍̏̎̊͗̂̃̀̇̕͝͝

I am trying.

s̵̼̘̜̟̰̥̱̤̘̱̲͉̖̓̀̑͋̃̏̒͊̽̒̈̀̄͒ͅõ̴̧̫̦̦̪̖̤̝̩͇̭͓̬̜͂̇͋̆̑͛̇̔̊̀͝͠ͅm̵͓̭̅̈́̋̓̂̈́̒̒͛̀̈́̃̅͠ë̷̢̛̩͔̻̖̗̫͉͙̫́̇̔̋̒̈́̐͛̕ ̸̡͉̺̙̩̲̦̼͚͇̒̇̆̿̈̎̒̽̍̈́̚ą̷̛͙̤̺̤͐̂̐͐̔̀̅̏̀̊͠͝r̵͕̐̿̄̋̅̂͑͑̈́͆ę̴̭̮̱̖̾̓̈́͌̀̏̀ ̴̦͈̭̬͍̺̭̱͚̺̜̹̫̀̾͗͒̎̈́̎͒͘͜͝w̵̢̹͈̤̹͚̩̖̮͖͔̃̅̀̊̈͊i̵̹̎̇́̄̀͐̑͒͛͗̿͘͘͘͝t̸͎̖̘̗̗͕͉̰̮̖͂͜h̵̥͚̭̟͓̣̪͑̌͊̀̀̒͛̌̀̊̉͘̕͠ ̴̰̭̺̬͌̿̍͒̚͜͠ḯ̴̛͖̳͉̇̈́̐̀́͆͒̈̿͌̊n̶̢͚̪͎̲̪͖̠̱̞̙͚̣͛͊̈́̎̀̀̆̀̈́̚̚

But I'm not trying enough.

S̴̛̩̲̩͑̉̃̉̽͝o̷̡͍̤̖̠̹͉̿̍̄̂̉͋͐̓͒͘͜͝͝m̵̡̬̯̜̘̗̫̾́̄̑́e̸̛̜͈͕̹̗̯̺̪̺̓̊̂͐̉͊͊̕͠ ̸͔͕̖͖̣̥̔̍ͅh̶̢̧̤̯͕͈̮͎̫̥̮̻̊̈́̕͝a̵̡̡̡̛̪̰̙̳͈̘̳͍̫̋̋̍̀̆̄̑̓͛͛͘͘͜͝͝ͅv̶͔̽͒͑͋̈̄̒̃̂e̵̢̛̥͉̪̯̠̫͓̝͖̜̹͊̑̋̀̎̆̅͘͠ ̶̧̧̰̹̤̭̤͐̍̉̎ạ̷̧̛̗̻͙̪̱̖̯̭̜̘̫̰̭̐̐̈́̎̀͂͂̽́̍̊͝ ̸̢̹̫̘̺̈̏̑́̒̒̀̑̓͘͘ş̷̞̠̭̟̋̈̽̚ẗ̷̢̜̥̣͔̩̳̲̤̞͓́̅̈́̏͒͗̈́̆̆͐̀̈̕̕͝o̷̙̠̟͉̪̥͔̬̼͓̅͛̊͌̀͆̈̃͑̏̈́̽͒͛͂͜͜r̴̡̰̠̗̜̥͇̪̖͖͈̬̳̣̥̔̐́͗̒͂͆͐͝ý̶̛̝͕͙̪̺̲̳̺̱̯̗͎̝͐͘̚ͅ

I'm not trying enough for Tom.

S̵̨͙͎̘̬̘̱̘̜͉̫̣̲̈́̃̿̋̄̽̅̀̅̓̇͑ò̵͕̄̋̓̅̉͐͐̏͝ṁ̷͎̪̼̿͂͒͆̇̍̑̓̅͝ȇ̴̢̨̡̨̗̜̙̥̞̟̃̈͂̋̚̕̚͝͝ͅͅ ̶̯̦̬͎̐̏̈́̊͂͒̓ͅa̷̢̟͈͋̉ŗ̶̧̞̟̖̜̟͕̟̙̞̭̻̬̭̂̈́̉̋̑̌͂͆͘ḕ̴̻͕͖͗̓͗̉̈́̒͆̈́͗̓̕̚ ̵̧̧̨̧͚̱͎͎̰̒͛́̀̈̾͑̚ư̸̹͖͚̙̫̹̈̈̐̾͐̊̈́͋̉̊͊͛n̷̻̖̳̝͇̼͉̬͆̂̍̀͌̈͆͑͜ẇ̵̳̗̟̲̊̉̒͌́̒̀̕ṛ̷̘̥̔̎́̔i̴̛͚̾̏ț̵̡̢͈̠̖͚͖̪͍̟̣̝̙̀̀̌̃ͅt̵̠͈̹͍̹̞̯̟̳͂̓̋̽̌͗́́̓̆̄͑̆͛͋e̵͎͛n̷̢͕̩̤̩̖̤̹̻̤̊̽̀͜͝͝ͅ

I'm not trying enough for Ingrid, Tucker, Sonja.

S̵̡̨̧͍̙͉̏͑͌̌̾̀̀͌̃͒̽͝͝͠ͅỏ̴̪̜͚̗͕̣̗̳̦̦̑̏̈͜͜͜m̴̨̡̺͓͕̼̝̺̒̃̋̏͝e̶̖̟̙̱̲̫̙̳̥̲̟̘̜̟̓̈́̏́͊͐͜ ̵̫̈͂̊̾̋̈́͒͛̂̚̕ÿ̷̡̨̼̺̦̩͓̙́͋͛̚ǒ̴̧̻̹̬̹͖̯̂̊́̂̄̾̋̅͘̕͜ͅu̸̝͉̗̺̼̳̖̅͠ ̷̺̣̻͙͔͈̻̖̈́̏̍̑̌̐̍̅͊͐̿c̵̢̬͚͖̘͚̈́̈́̃̓̏̓̚͜͝a̸̧̢̡̡̢̯̲̳̫͉̣͕̦̱̫͆̈͝͝͝n̷̢̩̆̊̀͆̀͘ ̵̱̒̂̎̀͑́̈́͒̕͠s̷̛̗̳̯͖̻̺͕͉͍̟̤͚͎̭͛̃̂̋͝ȩ̷͍̩̹̤̣̍̓̌̀̌́̋̎̑̀̚̚͝͝͝ę̸̧͙̻̝͖̖̮̩̪̜̝͙̽͆̏̓̒̏̓͌͛͋͆̀̈͜

I'm not trying for myself.

b̴̪͛́̓͋̃̒̚͠u̵͈͑̅̂̓̓͘ţ̵̘̹͕̦̥͖̊̾͠͠ ̶̡̛̬̪̤͓̖̰̤͜m̸̛̝̫̳̼̹͍̞͇͆́̀̃͐̿͂͆͝͝o̵̧̨̳̰̱͓̱̝͖̩͖͖͍̅͜s̴̳͎̥̯͙̼̱̼̮̣̙̟̳̜̉͌͂͜ẗ̴̢͈̠̺̣̩̙̤̻̮̘́ ̸̡̡͍̯͓̮͈̺̙̜̲̫̈́̽̅͠ͅą̷̛̙̪̬̣͚͕̲̱̈́͛̔͜r̷̺̟̻̱͉͇̞̩͍̱̐͆̈́̆̂͋̌̀͂̃̈͘͝͝e̸̛̛̙̠͈̝̱̩̜̤̐̑͒̉̂́̍̉̚ ̵̱̈́̀͗̽̑̈́̅͐̎̆̚q̵̙͛̍̍̍̕͘͝͝ȗ̴̧̗̬̦̞̓̍͆̊̆̈́̀̕͠i̴̛̥̤͐̎̏̾̌̄̔̉̐͛͠͝͝t̷̡̛̛̯̗͚̰̋e̷̛̲̖̪̻̖̼̞̼̯͔͒́̆̉̒͆̒̀͋̏̅͐̚ ̷̡̯̜̞̜̯̣̺̳̻̍̈́̀̊̓͊h̴͈͒́̈́̇̒͝͝ì̷̮̳͇̹̠̠͓͚̞͕̻͖̰d̴͍̞͕̫̰̝̳̘̜͇͈̮̎d̴̢̡̛͕̪͇͊͊͋̈́̎̽͗̕͘ȩ̵̧̙̭͕̲͚͈̗̗̞̥͎̈́͆̎͌͗̽͑̈́̎̋̈́̕͝n̴̨̧̢͎̟̱͖͇̦̯̪̪̯̓̈͊̋̚.

I'm too tired to ̸͗try.̳͔͚͎̈́̎̓