Heal the Scars Left on the Heart

35: Home

August 12, 2040

3 months after (Y/N) regains consciousness

Reader

I was finally released from the hospital after three long months of physiotherapy, physiological assessment, and other physiological-bullshit.

Needless to say, they helped improved my train of thoughts as well as movement, because I thought my arms and body were going to be too stiff to move, ever.

But even after all the physical therapy, I was still unable to walk. I was diagnosed with paraplegia.

I thought that I would be able to at least stand on my legs for ten seconds, but I could barely even make it past one second.

It was permanent damage... there was no more feeling from my waist down.

I always wished everyday I woke up in that damn hospital bed that I hadn't. Every time a nurse injected me with medicine or some bullshit, she'd accidentally poison me, forcing me into an abyss of darkness until I fell into a pit so-called death. I wished that the doctors hadn't made it in time to save me from the brain damage I received.

What a fucking miracle, just to live a fucking nightmare.

Now I was saved to live all alone again, not able to use my legs. I'd rather just rest in peace already.

Everyday for the past three months, I always wished that one guy would show up, with his soft brown eyes and that innocent smile, holding a white bouquet.

But why would that ever happen? I don't deserve that type of miracles. I deserve the so-called "miracles" that fucks me over continuously.

The miracles where I make a good recovery, no amnesia, no trauma, but the incapability to walk. Not the type of miracles that had that specific android to show up when I wake up from my dreadful days in the hospital.

My life would never be that good.

Hank reeled me in my wheelchair towards my driveway, unlocking the door with his hands on the touch pad.

Rolling my eyes, I commented, "just fucking great. You have authorization to my house too? Just give it to Fowler, Reed, and everyone else at the police station while you're at it."

Hank sighed, brushing my attitude aside as he reeled me in when the door slid open.

I looked around my living room, I almost didn't recognize it from how long it has been since I was here. It was so surreal, seeing the familiar setting but felt unfamiliar.

He helped me inside the room, and I spoke up, "you can leave now."

"You sure?" He questioned, walking over in front of me, letting go of the handle bars of my wheelchair.

"Yes, please." I rolled my eyes, huffing, "I haven't been alone for months with the nurses up my ass all the time."

"Well... it's not their choice, (Y/N)." Hank shook his head at me, being patient with my tantrum.

"Anyways, I'll leave you alone for today. Call me if you need me, okay? Your personal AP700 android should be here by tomorrow morning. I'll come by tomorrow to check up on things."

I waved, shooing him away.

"Alright, alright. See you tomorrow, Hank."

He sighed, shaking his head at my behavior. He quickly left my house before I threw another fit.

I was finally left alone.

It's been three months since I have woken up and had a moment to myself. It's always been someone watching me, teaching me something, assisting me.

I gritted my teeth, as I thought to myself.

I'm handicapped now.

I would have never thought a day like this would come, where I would announce to myself that I'm no longer able to walk.

I lost everything.

I reeled my wheelchair into the hallways of my house, the familiar white walls surrounded me as I passed through.

My ability to walk.

I tried to forget the name of the one who left me. The one who used to tell me not to worry about him leaving me. The one who cradled me in his arms as my sweat dried on my skin, after a long night of intimacy.

Him.

I lost everything.

I fought back the tears that wanted to shed.

How could you leave me?

I thought you loved me.

After everything we've been through... all the walls I dropped for you, leaving me vulnerable.

Yet, you left me. How could you do that to me?

I thought I was more than that to you.

A single tear crawled out, gliding down my soft cheeks, and it fell on my lap that I could no longer feel.

Why would you disappear like that?

When I reached the door, I struggled to open the door. Instead of walking in and holding the door open at the same time like I normally would do, I had to push open the door hard enough for it to open but without bouncing against the wall and back at me.

I sighed to myself, frustrated and angry.

I looked around at the setting of my room, and it finally felt like home.

Except that it was different... because I was different.

I rolled the wheelchair towards the window in my room, looking out at the windows. The sun was blazing, shining a happy ray of sunshine onto my skin.

But I wasn't happy. I was grumpy.

I scraped my fingernails against the armrest of my wheelchair, gritting my teeth as I looked at the beautiful, yet cruel world.

I guess this is just how my life is going to be now.