Can I Continue...

Hate or Love

Lucy's PoV

The nerve that chick has to walk up to the person she nearly killed. She aggravates me so much, but I can't do anything about it.

The physiotherapist came the next day, when I had calmed down some. I still have anger coursing through me but it's lesser, and sarcasm has taken over to distract me from the pain.

But it's not actually the pain that bothers me, rather the lack of it. I can't feel my knee or the casted leg, and the injuries are only from being kicked and pushed around by a bunch of girls.

And I'm told I am a dancer. Or at least, I was. But now I'm not sure. I'm not sure about very much.

I'm not sure I'll ever walk again. I'm not sure if I should ever want to walk again. I'm not sure if I should try. I'm not sure who I am. I'm not entirely sure why I'm here. I'm not sure how to feel. I'm not even sure what pain is.

I'm just not sure.

Trying to walk. Something I never though I'd have to think about, let alone go through. It's not everyday you do a Google search on the percentage of people who can walk after major surgery which I'm due to have because of my constantly broken and re-broken knee.

A metal rod through the leg to keep it together potentially, or an operation that's prevents my leg moving at joints with ease. What would you do?

Or better yet, what will I do?

"I need you to remember us Luce. Life sucks without you, and it sounds like you're dead. I wish you were dead, at least then we'd have some closure. As soon as you get out, I'm taking you to all our favourite places. Getting your memories back will take time, but I'm going to do it." He mumbles something else but I can't catch it.

The doctor walks in, only hearing the last of his conversation, or else he surely commented on its unfairness.

"I can't help what she can and can't remember. I'm literally waiting for her body to respond - then she's going home, memories be dammed. The only thing I know is that she has been showing signs of being a teen."

I can imagine Joe's confused face and turn in my sleep.

"What do you mean doc?" I shun the song buzzing through my head, instead focusing on the doctors reply.

"Well, she is ignoring people who bore her, is getting bored easily without her friends and hates scans and medical stuff. Oh, and she swears."

At this I open my eyes - does old lucy not swear? Joe's mouth is open slightly, and I'm not sure why. My unspoken question is replied to:

" You never swear. I didn't even know you knew those words from how violently you used to cover your ears when any of us said one. It's not fair we lose my Lucy but gain a Lucy I've always tried to get. I don't like this one though, I need my best friend back."

It was a low blow for him to be talking as if he hadn't just wished me dead...

So there is this thing, called sleep. Haven't really got much if it lately.

It's one thing when someone wishes you dead.
It's a completely new thing when you are trying to remember how to live the life you once had.
And all of its awful when a best friend is the one saying everything.

I'm learning about myself, but she seems to be an entirely new person; or an entirely old person, depending on which way you look at it. The Lucy they know and love isn't the person I now am, and I want the memories back, regardless of the pain it causes me.

It's the least I can do for these people I'm hurting.
But I can't help what I can't remember.

Aparently my memories can come back, I just need a reminder of the thing I'm trying to reach. You would expect friends to jog my memory, but to no avail.

So Joe wants to take me to field.
A big plain patch of grass that might have a hill, if we're lucky.
Big woop.

Joe was slightly apprehensive when we left the hospital - it might have something to do with the fact that if this doesn't work, and potentially even if it does, I don't know my parents. Or maybe the fact I'm partially paralysed until further notice.

A big lump of metal normally refered to as a car is what is standing between me and the park.
I think for future reference it is now a death trap. Rusting in places, the faded blue body work has seen better days and the seats creak when someone tries to sit in them. Cream upholstery that has small cracks and a small dent in the back bumper that gives me a slight headache when I look at it.

My head is pounding as im wheeled out to the car, the ride taking much less time then I'd first anticipated. Happy to leave the hospital behind despite the fact I'm in a bloody wheelchair.

It takes longer to try to get me into the car then it does to get me out of the hospital.
Dressed in a brand new outfit of leggings and a cute top, my feet are wrapped up in super fluffy socks. No shoes for me until the swelling goes down.

If it goes down.

But for now I have Joe to ferry me around, as he can pick me up safely and I feel somewhat secure with him and some of the other people he's calling our friends.

We get to a place that seems all to familiar, and as Joe struggles to get the chair out the boot, I take a look around. I really want to remember this place but it has a forboding sence about it.

It's a struggle to get me into my wheelchair as my legs don't want to work at all so I need help to even pull my legs around.

Nothing is going to prepare me for the memories, but I'll take anything to remember the people I love.

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A/N - I'm sorry, updates are going to be more regular, on either a Thursday or a Saturday, once a week from now on until it's over. Not too many chapters are left unless I add more, which there probably would. At a minimum, I'm doing bonus chapters for each set of characters.

Thank you for your support, and I'm sorry for the unannounced temporary leave, but I'm back.

Love you guys,

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L xxx