Amputate (Gawsten)

1: Ocean Eyes

The cold eyes of the boy seemed to look right through me they're angry, simply skimming over those iris's make you think of the fiery pits of hell. But yet at the same time they seem soothing and calm with those oceans of blue and green.
A single glance would make you get lost in the conflict of anger and calmness so I decide to do the sanest thing, stare into them.
Whats the danger in swimming through the seas of a pair of conflicted eyes?

His beautiful eyes fascinate me. They seem so broken, he seems broken. But his facial expressions stay calm and mask the fact that his entire life shattered into a billion pieces. He's like glass, everyone is. The people who end up here are simply the ones who've shattered. He makes it seem as if nothing has ever gone wrong but obviously his entire world has rebelled against him.

Of course no one here has lived a life with nothing having gone wrong. It is a rehabilitation center after all.

"Sorry" I eventually apologize after bumping into him, he doesn't reply. "I'm Geoff." I introduce myself as he stares down at the ground. I follow where his eyes are leading to, to find a small notebook sprawled out across the floor. He points at the book helplessly until a nurse walking by kindly hands it to him. I hadn't noticed the pen in his hand until he started messily scribbling all over the book.

Quickly he flips the notebook around revealing in semi messy handwriting I'm Awsten. A few moments later he adds with a W.
He flips the book back around and holds it tightly.

Most patients here are unable to speak so I'm not surprised by his lack of talking. The ones that lost the ability to speak probably have it the worst. You can just tell their minds are just exploding with things to say.

"Nice to meet you Awsten."

He nods and points at me addressing he thinks the same, I can tell he's annoyed with me though and is probably lying. Either way for some odd reason I want to continue talking to the boy, well Awsten, with a W.

sadly I am forced to abandon the boy in the hallway as a tech guides me down to occupational therapy.
Thankfully the last thing sitting on the schedule for today.

As soon as the minute hand lands on the six I leave the therapy room as fast as possible. Up the elevator and to my room. Room 333 thankfully it's easy to remember I get to turned around in here despite it being the only building I've been in for a month. Finally back to the decent sized boring room I've lived in too long.

I can't help but think about the strange boy there's so much about him I can't seem to get over.

I should probably make some friends here besides visitors. Otto is the only one who seems to come anymore.

The visitors were frequent at first but they've become quite rare I doubt anyone could have the slightest idea of understanding how lonely it gets. The worst part is is how we get treated like a baby but we're not a baby I'm not a baby. Otto doesn't treat me like one but still different but honestly how could he not?

Maybe these wheels just make me the equivalent to one.

The large windows face the wondrous view of a brick wall. I look out anyways up at the bits of the smoggy sky that are in view. The moon just a slight sliver in the sky peaks out of the brown pollution it seems to be looking down at me. It's a better view than nothing. I appreciate it more than most people would, I have after all spent the past three months before this place laying in an uncomfortable hospital bed the only view a boring wall.

The thought shoots pain to my heart as if someone had decided to squeeze it until it pops.

I wheel myself to my bed dreaming of walking, hiking through a forest or field, doing any of those things one last time. I Slide off my temporary prosthetic legs that are only for show, put the wheels on my wheelchair into lock and call a nurse to go to bed.
Some dreams may never come true.

Something as simple as getting myself into bed or walking a step simply a fantasy.