Disabled

Chapter 1 through 6

Chapter 1

It was a cold autumn afternoon; I took the bus and headed back home after a long day of learning about the powerhouse of the cell: the mitochondria. I was tired and hungry, lunch wasn't very good today; some chicken wings past its due date and some questionably looking mashed potatoes. It's a shame, I was getting used to the bone filled fish we've been having for the past week. This year will be my last year of high school, I'm thinking of moving to Vancouver after since my college of choice is situated there but I'll have to see with my parents.

I'm not the smartest tool in the shed, but I do know where I'm headed, the psychology program, math was never my subject, but the human brain, human interactions and emotions those are what really interested me. My mother, who died when I was still a baby, was a nurse in a mental asylum. She was interested in knowing the past life of mentally ill patients; she would always talk to them and ask questions about themselves. Most of them saw her as a light in their darkness. As for my dad, I don't really know much about him. He never was around, maybe it was because I was still a baby but I can't remember his face very well. After the death of my mother, I was taken in by these two pure white strangers: John Rumbick and Yancy Rumbick, my adoptive parents. We moved to Quebec and I started living a pretty normal lifestyle. I went to school, learned French and English, have pretty decent grades and made some great friends.

Here we are, home sweet home. I can finally relax, this week was pretty busy, I had to give back some team assignments which I did alone, had to study for a pretty important math exam, which I'm not feeling too optimistic about and had an oral assignment to do in French. It's finally over. We have a three day break which will help me recharge and get right back into school. Once I entered the living room I saw my uncle, Barry Rumbick, a kind and philosophical man. He is a worldwide psychiatrist; he travels all around the globe helping people in under-developed countries who have contracted some form of mental illness. He just returned from a trip in Rio de Janeiro, where he was treating a poor family in the slums. He was talking to my parents about it. After finishing his sentence he turned his head towards me and smiled:

-Hey there champ!

-Hi Barry

-How ya been?

-Pretty good and you?

-I've been great.

Uncle Barry is the talkative type, he can't stand being silent even it's for just a little bit. It's pretty ironic considering his job is to listen carefully to understand the problem of his patients.

Chapter 2

I love the visits from Uncle Barry; he always has something to say about his trips and the people he met along the way. One time, he came across this dying man from Tibet; he gave him a little bit of water and carried the man back to the village he was staying for his trip. That man had contracted Parkinson's disease and was abandoned by his own family. Barry paid for his medical bill and found him a shelter for the time being. Now, I know he made all that up, but I was still in awe when he was telling me his stories as a kid. Although this time, his tone was different. For once, Uncle Barry was going to say something serious. I felt a weird vibe ever since I walked into the living room; my parents didn't even greet me like they usually do. Barry stood up and looked at me with concerning eyes:

-How's school, kiddo?

-It's been pretty rough but I have a 3 day break this week so that's good

-That's good to hear, I got something to show you.

Barry reaches for his tattered pocket that lost its shape during all the hiking he did and pulls out an old photo of a nurse with a man in a wheelchair. I looked at the old photo with a confused look;