Losing hope

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It'd been weeks since the bad news- Matt had been paralysed from the waist down and was confined to a wheelchair. The trauma of it all had stolen the smile from his face and he suffered from bouts of depression and night terrors which kept a concerned Alice on her toes. Fortunately, she had Martin around to help. It helped that he lived next door and was now finally realizing his responsibility as an older brother. The brothers were sitting in front of the telly, drinking beer for breakfast as Martin preferred to do every morning. Matt sat quietly and gloomily on his wheelchair, examining the beer bottle from which he'd hardly taken a sip, while Martin slumped into the couch and took a sip from his second bottle, watching his face for any hint of that old, infectious smile. 

"Sorry." He whispered, noticing the hurt look on Matt's face. He'd unconsciously put his feet up on the table as he used to before Matt's incident and as he lowered them off the table and planted them back on the floor, he felt like a jerk. "It's ok." a distraught Matt sighed, before turning his gaze back to the full bottle in his hand. "Anythin I can get ya, mate? " Martin asked, seeing as he hadn't touched his drink and wanting to make him as comfy as possible. "I dunno. Could ya bring back my ol life...before this happened? " Matt replied, looking up at him longingly. "I'm sorry. I can't." Martin whispered apologetically, choking back tears as he spoke.

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